CHAPTER 18
SILVER LINING
❝ He set fire to the world around him
but never let a flame touch her. ❞
Thomas had barely put the telephone down when Finn barged into his office, the furrow between his brows deepening upon the sight of his older brother holstering his gun; a gesture that too often paved the way for death.
"Tommy! Do you know where the fuck Andrea is? We were supposed to meet today at Regent's Park but she's nowhere to be found! I had everything planned already, I even asked Frances to prepare a picnic and all... I thought girls liked those stuff!"
Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose, the youth in Finn's voice crumbling under the oldness of his own thoughts. He could barely keep his eyes open; just like a stomach that's starving, a mind that's overfull will mercilessly keep its owner awake, and Thomas knew that better than anyone.
Still, he pushed himself into the present. Slivers of sunshine seeped through the windows and gathered in his hands, but no light could clean the blood as well as Rose had.
"Planning on proposing, were you?"
"Well, no but... a kiss, maybe? We haven't even done that! Aren't the French more forward in that?"
"Andrea's out of the city, went on a trip with her brother. It was a last-minute thing, hence, why she didn't tell ya." A last-minute thing indeed; after Alfie had left her apartment, Rose had marched into the night to yank Raphael and Andrea out of their beds, demanding they'd leave the city for a while. It was bad. Thomas saw in her eyes when he mentioned the S. He had only ever seen that level of pain when he looked in the mirror.
"But the picnic..." Finn's whines were drowned when the door yet again burst open and a group of Peaky Blinders walked in, grave stares and tensed shoulders putting every one of Thomas' nerves on alert. Nothing sobered him up as well as danger.
"What is it?"
The answer came in the form of a pipe bomb placed on his mahogany desk. It was homemade, with a skill Thomas had only ever seen during the war.
"Found on the Grace Shelby Institute this morning. Kids were playing football not far from it. Luckily, we disarmed it in time."
"Bloody hell, Tommy, who is it now? Fenians? The bloody Russians again?" It was Finn, but his voice didn't make sense to Thomas. There was a wall between him and his thoughts and he couldn't tear it down fast enough, not before a thought became another entirely different.
"Scots." He motioned for the Blinders to wait outside, back resting against his desk once they did. "What do you know about Rose, Finn?"
"Rose?" Finn's ginger brows furrowed. "I know she's Andrea's guardian here in England. She owns that café down in the French Quarter. And she plays the trumpet, right, or is it the violin?"
"It's the violin." A cigarette found its way onto his mouth, but the smoke didn't seem to reach his lungs anymore. "Well, she's more than that. She and her family are part of a gang called the French Kissers. It's likely you've never heard of them, as they operate in the shadows. Most members are women, so people never suspect them."
Finn stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. "A gang full of women? And you're only telling me now?"
"If this hadn't appeared at the institute, I wouldn't have told ya at all." Thomas gestured at the explosive, wondering if the man who made it was the same man that still had a hand around Rose's heart. "Whoever put this there is after the Kissers. And they're trying to get to them by getting to us."
"Of course, because ya just had to go and throw yourself into the lion's den, didn't ya, Tommy? Jesus, I know Rose's pretty and all, but are her lady parts really worth all this fookin' trouble?"
Ashes rose from the corners of his mind and into the ashtray. "I wouldn't know."
"Wait, does this mean Andrea's a Kisser? Are those fuckers coming after her too?"
"That's why she's out of town. She's safe, Finn."
Finn's teeth gritted. His whole world seemed clenched at that moment. "She'd be safer with me. Why do they even have that name to begin with?"
Thomas reached behind the desk, picking a revolver from the top drawer. Finn took it and holstered it. Thomas wouldn't be the only one calling for death that day.
"Just be glad Andrea hasn't kissed you yet."
***
"Soeurs!" Renée's resplendent smile contrasted with the grim atmosphere her sisters had brought from the cinema. Rose paced back and forth at the factory doors, torn between hell and the place below it. "I have excellent news!"
"That makes one of us." Rose tightened the scarf around her neck. Swift as a hawk, Nicolas' eyes narrowed, but he kept quiet. He was unusually silent. Like a calm who hides all storms.
"Really?" Audrey asked, unable to stop her own smile from forming as she took in Renée's happiness. Audrey was too empathic; she absorbed the emotions of those around her. It was a miracle she didn't witness the war; she wouldn't have survived it. "I thought you were sick?"
"Non!" Renée threw her head back, suns and stars exchanged between her and Christopher's grin. His arm around her shoulders was more than protective; it was holding his world together. "I just came from the doctor! I'm pregnant!"
Audrey squealed. Angeline's jaw fell. And Rose cursed, if only just mentally.
"Oh mon Dieu, I'm so happy for you!" Audrey was the first to run to her sister and engulf her in a hug, tears swarming in the blues of their eyes, and Rose felt it all as blows to her guts. Every time her family found a place of joy, she took it away. That's all she was. A harbinger of death hiding in a red dress.
"Yeah, we've been trying for so long... We still don't know if it's a boy or a girl, but—"
"Oh, I hope it's a girl!" Audrey giggled. "Boys are too much trouble."
"Oh, girls are too." Angeline's lips curled in a smirk, pulling Jules' eyes into them instantly.
"Congratulations, Renée." Rose forced a smile. It was all she could do now. Forcing smiles so the poison would remain on her lips alone. She had fixed them, and she would break them. Love was but broken clay in her hands. "I wish I had good news as well."
Her sister's smile shattered on the ground. Christopher gripped her tighter, as if he could catch her world when it fell. "What is it, Rose?"
She picked up the clay and started again. "Let's go."
***
Inside the factory, fine lines of light spilled over rows of familiar men and women, each of them with jaws as resolute and dangerous as those of a shark, for they all held a cyanide tooth in them.
Like a judge before innocents, like an executioner before people whose lives she valued more than her own, Rose cleared her throat and faced the crowd. She didn't dare look at her fingers, fearing she might find the puppet strings that linked all those people's fates back to her, mere threads of life that twined around her shoulders like fragile cobwebs.
"I called you here today because—"
Like a dam that breaks and cannot be stopped, the doors of the factory slammed open and a parade of dapper men flooded the place. Quick heads turned to see them, curious eyes sliding over penny collar shirts, bespoke trousers, and unmatched flat caps.
Hushed murmurs left red lips as riveted glances bounced between the Kissers women and the Peaky men; they sauntered through the factory in a slow motion daze, the sparks of fire from the furnaces dancing around them like leaves in the wind, a devastating wind that put chills in Rose's spine.
Then Thomas stopped, all svelte and somber and dressed to the nines, and the wind turned to a gale. It wrecked across Rose's heart, leaving what was left of it in ruins. His face might look bruised, but the way he held himself told tales of nothing but dominance and power. Tales she wanted to lose herself in and never come out from. Instead, she turned to Angeline.
"What are they doing here?"
Angeline shrugged, a smirk perched on her lips like a hammock in the breeze. "You said to call them all. So I did."
"We don't need the Peaky Blinders involved in this."
"On the contrary, we do." Against all odds, it was Nicolas who spoke, long brown hair tumbling down his face in soft waves, his eyes as dark as a black cat in the night. "I don't like him, but we need all the people we can get that wants to protect you, not kill you."
An abysm erupted between her lips as she gazed at Nicolas. His darkened eyes had walls she couldn't climb.
"Why the hell are they here?" A man shouted from the back, looking like he was about to spit on Thomas Shelby's shoes. "Why are we all here?"
The cobwebs around her shoulders intensified. All of their heads were on the rope. And instead of removing it, she would tighten it.
"It's the Saurets." She forced her voice to come out strong over the lump in her throat; Tavish's fingertips still ghosted her skin. "They're back."
The girls in the front line paled. Renée brought her hands to her belly on instinct. Jules's fists clenched, and they never did. So her stare moved to Thomas, because she needed a fortress she could cling to, and no fortress stood as tall as his doleful eyes.
"Who the fuck are those?" Finn and Isaiah asked in one defiant tone.
"A Scottish clan. And also a gang with no political or religious affiliations. They have no loyalty or duty to anything, not to a country, not to God, not to a cause. They don't care about anything but family. And they much prefer to have their hands filled with blood than gold. So they aren't corruptible." Rose paused. Somewhere along the way her hands had started shaking. "I don't know how many of them are there, or how far they've infiltrated the city. But we should assume they're everywhere."
"Like fucking rats in the sewers." Kaya spat. There was so much venom in her voice her lips could have corroded.
"If they're Scottish, why are they after the French?" Élodie asked, her French accent thick. "I thought we both hated the English."
Some of the Kissers cheered. The Blinders sneered. Thomas rolled his eyes.
"They're not after the French, they're after me." Rose straightened her back. In her voice burnt the fire Steaphan had molded to dust and ashes. "Because of a mistake I did years ago. I should be the only one paying for it, but unfortunately, they don't think this way."
"No, if they are after you, they are after all of us," Evelyn said. The once cheerful barmaid now resembled someone capable of splitting the sky in two; like Audrey, she was unconditionally loyal. But in every face Rose looked at she saw the stab on her back. Every face except Thomas', for he had the wounds and the threats to prove it couldn't be him holding the knife.
"That's right." Arwen clicked her tongue and gestured around. "So what if they're a Scottish clan? We're a fucking army."
"Armies follow rules. They don't. They prefer chaos. They have no moral code or limits. One of them killed Thomas Shelby's bartender for daring to ask if they wanted Irish instead of Scotch."
"Fookin' bastards!" Isaiah shouted. Outcries whizzed among the Blinders. Finn rushed over to Thomas, and some of his men turned around to leave. Before a war could break out between the gangs, Élodie stepped in.
"How do we recognize them?"
"They all have an S branded on their collarbones. The loose cannon, Callan, he has the Lion Rampant tattooed on his neck. Their accent is hard to miss, apart from Tavish. The leader. When he wants to confuse, his Scottish accent is heavy and thick. When he wants to send a clear message, his English will be crystal clear. Other people's minds are just another battlefield for him."
"So if you see him, don't let him open his mouth." Nicolas took a step forward, slow, trained hand sneaking inside his coat. "Simply put a bullet in his head. Like this."
He took the gun out, and everything happened too quickly; his arm stretched forward, a straight line for death to walk on, and a bullet flew across the air to crash onto a French Kisser's head. The man's knees faltered and buckled, scarlet strokes spraying onto Thomas' face like a red flag of warning. A flag Nicolas was waving. A flag Thomas cut right through when he didn't blink. Not once. Not even when the body fell to the ground and the blood pooled at his feet. Two sharks in the same waters, prowling for the same blood.
"Bordel de merde, Nic, what was that about?" Jules yelled. He tried moving past him, but Nicolas clutched his arm and stopped him.
"I want you to look at his body." He said to the crowd, voice like a charged cloud. "When the Saurets come and tempt you with promises of gold, remember his blood. There is no place in this gang for traitors. Only graves."
"What did he fucking do?" Jules asked. Christopher had grasped the cross on his neck; it landed right above his heart, where there was a scar from a bullet that wasn't meant for him.
"I saw him set up bombs near Rose's apartment on my way here."
"I..." Her tone had been watered down to a whisper, a whisper that contained all her life in it. The crowd had turned from innocent to judge, and Nicolas had his neck below the guillotine.
"I can confirm this." Four words, loud and clear enough to draw the attention of everyone in the room. Thomas was leaning against a pillar, idle cigarette dangling from his lips. The glint of his gold chain shone more than any light. "He was seen by me men lurking around your apartment last night."
Crescent moons bloomed on her palms as she gazed at him. Worlds could have risen and fallen between them. "You have men watching my apartment?"
"Ever since me bartender was killed? Yeah. It's the only way I can sleep at night."
Rose took a hand to her forehead. Her thoughts were so wrapped up she couldn't read any of them.
"Jules, Chris, take the body away. Nicolas, go with them."
The muscle along his jaw clenched, but Nicolas followed the others without a word.
"Is this fucking Ireland now?" Someone shouted. "Do we have to peek below our fucking cars and beds to see if there's a bomb there or not?"
"Yes, we have," Rose said. "We can't just kill the Saurets like Nicolas said. They've set up explosives all throughout London and they'll set off the detonators if we move against them. All while making sure to link the attacks back to us."
"We're scared of coppers now?" Isaiah scoffed. "Can't we just pay them off?"
"I have some policemen on my payroll, but not the entirety of the Scotland Yard. I can't protect you from the wrath of the king or his fucking gallows. I already have men inspecting the city. Knowing Tavish, he'll have set up bombs in the places that mean the most to me. Hospitals, schools and orphanages."
"Maybe he's bluffing. I say we kill him anyway and damn the rest."
"He's not." Thomas leaned away from the pillar and took the cigarette from his mouth. "This morning me men found a pipe bomb in the Grace Shelby Institute in Birmingham. They disarmed it in time, but whoever made that bomb knew what they were doing."
All color drained from Rose's face. The rivers of the country would run red because of her. But danger always made her thoughts readable and her words clear.
"Before we can make a move on them, we need to find the bombs and disarm them. We have to assume they are hearing and watching. Your houses are not safe. Your families are not safe. Nothing is safe until they're gone. Safe houses and train tickets will be available for all those who wish to hide or disappear for a while. For the others, come see me at my office."
***
When Rose finally got out of the factory late in the afternoon, most of the gang had dispersed. Nicolas was arguing with Jules, who was left to yell at himself when his older brother dashed to catch up with Rose.
"Next time, a little heads up that you're going to murder someone in the middle of a reunion will be much appreciated," she said. Near them, Renée and the girls talked about dreams and promises that may never come true.
"You wouldn't have let me do it if I'd told you. And I wouldn't have been able to go against your wishes."
Rose shook her head. She could have reached forward and grasped the universe in her hands at that moment, bending it and breaking it until it came undone at the seams. "I don't lead on fear."
"I know. You have their respect. Let me have their fear." Like a tide pulled by the moon, his hand rose to touch her, solid and staunch, with no shake to it. But Rose grasped his wrist before his fingers could reach her.
"You're my right hand, Nicolas. I should know you like the back of my own. But I don't. Your heart is too ruthless."
"And yours is too soft." The murderer he could be was gone. All there was left was this softness that always rustled against her thorns. And Rose saw. How he was ruthless, both in his wickedness and in his kindness. "Let's keep them that way, oui?"
He left her standing there and walked away, choosing the path opposite to Jules. Wisps of sleet and snow swirled in the air; through them, Rose caught sight of Thomas' shadow, partially hidden by the half-light of the dusk. Before she knew it, her feet had driven her to him. The moth would always be drawn to the flame, even if it could burn her. Or maybe exactly because it could burn her.
"Thomas..." He lifted his stare at the sound of her voice; the melted ice in his eyes left goosebumps in her veins. "Will you walk with me?"
Silently, like a shooting star in the midnight sky, he slid a cigarette between his lips. There were too many things that could kill him that he couldn't control. But the cigarette, he could choose exactly when and how much it killed him. Unlike love, from which he could take a sip and die instantly.
But a sip wasn't enough for him. Not even a bottle would be enough. So he leaned away from the cornerstone and offered her his arm, in hopes they could both get drunk on something that had no sobering up from. "Lead the way, love."
When their arms tangled, it was the first time she could breathe properly since Tavish's hand had been around her neck that morning. They walked in silence through the cold cobbled streets, their breaths mingling together in the wintry air. At some point Thomas reached for his case and flicked it open, handing it to Rose. She took a cigarette out and he raised an eyebrow; she never accepted his cigarettes.
Rose took a slow, deliberate drag before glancing back at him with eyes as green as his wildest hopes. "There's a traitor in my gang, Thomas."
He seized a cigarette for himself and closed the case. "Another?"
"Yes. That man Nicolas killed... he was most likely just bribed recently to set up the explosives. But Tavish told me he has a whole office in Scotland... years and years of everything, all our dirt, all our crimes. Things that'll ruin us if they end up on the press or the police."
"Which he threatened to do." Thomas read between her lines. He was getting too good at that. "You didn't tell the gang this."
"I didn't. I don't need an inside war on top of the one we already face. I just spent hours talking to them in groups and giving them mixed instructions in hopes it'll confuse the fucking traitor."
"And you don't think it could be me?"
"By the amount of time it took you to realize I was the leader? No, I don't think it could be you. And he threatened to end you."
"He threatened to end me, eh?"
"He did. He thinks you're important to me."
Thomas stopped, the smoke rolling off his tongue and into Rose's. Like an eclipse that steals the light and turns it dark. "And am I? Important to you?"
She swallowed. She could lie, but the scale her heart was being weighted in couldn't. "You are. I didn't want you to be, but it kind of stopped being about what I wanted long ago."
You're Thomas Shelby, after all, she thought. You come and you take what you want and you don't look back or apologize. And we're left bleeding from wounds we didn't even know we had until they fade to scars.
A snowflake fell on her cheek and Thomas was quick to grab it. Rose didn't lean away. She didn't care if his fire would warm her or burn her. She was sick of the dark.
"Then I'll make sure he doesn't end me."
"I don't know who to trust, Thomas."
His fingers trailed down the side of her jaw. His face had been carved by a perfect blade but satin fell from his eyes as he looked at her. The arches of his cheekbones seemed to carry all the things he couldn't tell her. That above his bruises, the thing that hurt him the most was having her lips so close and still letting them get away. She was like water running through his fingers, elusive and cold, and he was dying to drown. She kept the shovels away. Better than the whiskey or the opium did. The shovels didn't stand a chance against her. Nothing did. And he didn't stand a chance with her.
But that wouldn't stop him from trying. "Trust me."
"Everyone advises me not to."
"And when do ya ever listen to what people say, eh?"
Rose smiled. Her lips had a will of their own whenever they were near him. She stopped by a discreet building, turning around to dive her stare into his. "This is a hideout no one knows about."
Thomas ran his tongue over his lips. "Last time you didn't let me in. You said you gave people what they needed, not what they wanted. But what do you want, Rose? What do you need?"
She knew now, as his warmth melted away all her ice. The frost around her heart began to thaw, leaving silver linings lodged in her ribs. "I need to tell someone my past. And I want that to be you."
He nodded. Rose already had a hand on the knob. "Then tell me."
She walked in first, taking out Audrey's scarf. Thomas closed the door behind him and placed the gun on the table. She was about to go into the kitchen to make some tea when he marched towards her, like the cavalry in a war.
"Who did this to ya? Who fookin' did this to ya?"
Rose bit hard on her tongue. His fingers soared above the red marks on her neck. The shape of an S stood out where Tavish had pressed the ring against it. "Tavish."
The gun went from the table to the waistband of his trousers in a matter of seconds. Thomas spun on his heels and strode towards the door.
"You're not seriously going to kill him right now, are you?"
Thomas stopped and turned around. He walked back to Rose, taking the cigarette out of his mouth so abruptly some of the ash fell to the ground.
"He lays a fookin' hand on you again, he will be meat for Johnny Dogs." There it was, the flame. Rose wanted to pick it up and let it dance across her skin until it burned her to the ground.
"Well, if lays a hand on you, there won't even be any part of him left to make meat with," Rose said, the same inferno burning in her eyes. "I'll deal with Tavish. After we disarm the bombs and discover the evidence. But I don't need you to hop on a horse and become some fucking knight in shining armour. I've been one my whole life."
"Ya know, he visited me family in prison, probably to lure them into some fookin' alliance. They killed me bartender. As if that wasn't enough, he fookin' went and did this to ya."
"You need to stay out of this, Thomas. For your own good, for once do what's best for you and leave this be, to me."
His mouth fell agape, and Rose had the sudden urge to close it with hers. Maybe then he wouldn't speak. Maybe then he wouldn't speak and say all the things she couldn't hear. "You can't ask me to do that."
"Why not?"
"Because I care for you and you care for me. And we can't change that, no matter how many fookin' times you push me away or how many fookin' times I keep coming back."
Her heart skipped all beats. "Why are we even worried Tavish might kill us? When whatever is between us will kill us first?"
"That fucker... Tavish..." His fingers fell from her neck to her shoulder, gliding over the place where it hurt her the most. "Is he this man?"
What was left of her heart ached. If she had a soul, it would have ached too. "No. Tavish is his brother. I didn't even know he existed until he barged into my café this morning. The man on my shoulder... Steaphan... he's dead. I killed him." She stared at him, the kind of stare whose edges held all the anguish in the world. "That's the difference between you and me, Thomas. The love of your life died for you; the love of mine was killed by me. You're the devil, they say? Welcome to my hell."
author's note.
so next chapter we'll find out about Rose's past... what do you think happened between her and Steaphan? And who do you think is the traitor?
on another note, Merry Christmas! I hope you all have a great day within possible ♡ to celebrate, here are some photos of Cillian and Mélanie from when they did a movie together:
(let's just pretend it's a modern version of tommyrose pls)
(they look like a real family here sjsjsj)
and some gifs from the movie:
they look so cute together 🥺