Chapter Twenty-Five
Collateral Damage
"Nothing good will come of it"
"Alright," said Arthur leaning forward across the table with false seriousness. They were sitting in the small room of the garrison; Arthur, Lottie, Finn and John. John was smoking on his cigar keeping his eyes away from the girl, only letting them flicker towards her when she was looking away. "What's happened?'
Lottie rolled her eyes. "Nothing's happened, Arthur," she insisted. He'd been badgering her about it since they'd arrived.
"I've seen you angry, but lately, you've been something else," he continued.
"Alright, alright," she sighed, lifting her hands up in defeat. She took a deep breath and the two men looked at her expectantly. "My lipstick ran out," she lied, sarcasm dripping in her voice. "I don't know what I'm going to do... I guess I'll have to use the blood of men who annoy me to stain my lips red."
Arthur chuckled. "Fine, don't tell me."
She smirked at him and took a sip of her drink. It was true, she had been beyond angry in the recent days. Since Polly had confronted her, she'd been furious. Polly had no right to talk to her in that way, to say the things she did - to threaten what she had... Lottie was on complete defensive mode, but ready to snap into the offensive. Already, she'd punched two men in the garrison who'd made passes at her and flipped over a table in the betting room. She was thankful Tommy wasn't there, although Maxim gave her a scolding afterwards, it was worth it to see Polly's expression. She knew she shouldn't fight fire with fire, but with everything she'd worked for put on the line, she was not going to go down without a fight.
She left to get another drink and when she came back, she saw they had their cards out, playing.
"So, it's as easy as that?" John was asking Arthur as she sat down.
"It's as easy as that, John Boy," said Arthur. "London. You wouldn't believe it." He turned to his youngest brother. "Finn, stick your head in a bucket."
"No," argued Finn.
"The women, John Boy, the women," continued Arthur.
Lottie sighed. "Oh, lovely. I left one bad conversation and now you're onto another."
Finn laughed slightly to himself, but the other two didn't care for her remark.
"There's this one, she's a dancer, right? She can do things with her..." he trailed off, looking towards Finn and sighed. "If Finn would just piss off, I'd explain a bit better."
Lottie snorted and lit another cigarette.
"Well, if it's so good, why are you here?" asked Finn, not wanting to leave.
"A decent pint," replied Arthur. "The cockneys can't get that right."
John chuckled, slapping Finn on the back. "He misses us, Finn."
"I hope you're being careful," said Lottie.
He drank deeply from his glass. "I haven't forgotten, don't you worry, Lottie," he said. When the door opened to the small room, they all looked up. It was Michael and Isiah. "Here they are, look," said Arthur. "Junior Peaky boys."
Lottie smiled at them, not being able to help herself, but quickly hid it with her glass as she took a sip. Her smile faded, however, when she saw Michael's bloodied and bruised knuckles as he sat down. She reached forward and tentatively touched his hand. It wasn't too bad, most of the blood didn't seem to be his own, but no doubt it would scar if it wasn't cleaned soon. "What happened?" She asked.
"Some idiots at the Marquis of Lorne," he replied carelessly. "They tried to stop me and Isiah from drinking, but it's alright. We fought them off."
Lottie sighed and sat backward. She looked towards the Shelby's; she recognised the expressions on their faces. "Now, you've done it," she muttered to herself, quiet so none of them heard.
"Arthur, we had to stand our ground and we did," continued Michael.
Arthur sat forward and straightened his jacket, a smirk on his face. "The Marquis, eh?" He stood up along with John and Finn, although they pushed down their younger brother so he was sitting again.
Lottie looked to Isiah. "Where's your dad?"
"Preaching," he replied.
"Right," murmured Arthur as he and John left the room, John calling out to Finn not to knick of any of his chips.
"Where are you going?" asked Michael.
"We won't be long," he replied as they disappeared out the door.
Michael turned to Lottie. "Where are they going?" He repeated.
She sighed. "The Marquis of Lorne."
"Shame," said Isiah. "It was a nice pub."
She shrugged. "Got a reputation to uphold, we do." She lifted her gaze to meet Michael's, her eyes landing on the cuts on his face. She cleared her throat and turned to Isiah. "I think it's time you went home. Don't start any more fights on your way," she added with a smirk.
When Isiah left, Lottie downed her whiskey and stood, clearing her throat. "Come on, Mickey," she said.
Michael looked up at her, confused. "Where?"
"Well, you can't jolly well go to Polly's with your fists looking like that, can you?" She replied. "I'll get them cleaned up so that hopefully she won't notice - although she probably will," she added in a lowered voice. "Come on."
He stood and the two of them exited the pub. As they walked down the road, John and Arthur were walking towards them. "You didn't have to do that for me," said Michael as his way of thanks.
"We didn't do it for you, Michael," said Arthur coolly as they continued to walk past back to the garrison.
John looked at them, his eyes glowering slightly. "We did it for the good name of the company," he said. "None of this happened, alright?" He added.
Lottie lowered her eyes away from John's not so discreet glare as she put her hand on Michael's arm to keep him walking. "Come on," she said. She could feel John's stare on her back as they continued on. But Lottie was not going to think of John. The two arrived at the apartment and Lottie took out her key. "Is this where you live?" Michael asked.
Lottie nodded. "This is all I need so it's all I want," she replied.
"But you're always so..." he paused to think of the right word. "Elegant."
Lottie smiled stunningly at him. "Thank you," she said, "but being elegant is a state of being - one that I'm trying to perfect. Wealth has nothing to do with it."
The apartment was dark when they entered - Maxim must have been out somewhere. Lottie led the way to the living area and showed Michael where to sit. "I'll go grab a kit to clean that up."
Alone in the kitchen, her heart was beginning to thump loudly in her chest. What was she doing inviting him round? Polly had directly told her to stay away from Michael. She knew part of the reason she invited him round was to rebel against Polly, to fight against the ruthlessness that she had shown towards her. But that was only a second thought. Deep down, Lottie knew the main reason she invited him over was because she simply enjoyed his company. She liked him. Quite a lot. She didn't want to fight against nature and force herself to avoid him. Then again, if Polly found out, she would kill her, and Lottie knew that wasn't an exaggeration. Or worse...
Shaking her head to rid herself of her thoughts, she grabbed the kit and some alcohol and a flannel. She reentered the room and saw that Michael was no longer sitting, but standing by the small fireplace and looking at a photo. Lottie quietly placed the kit on the coffee table and walked over to him. He didn't seem to notice her.
"That's my brother," she explained, looking at the teenage boy in the photo who was standing beside a twelve year old version of herself. "Freddie."
"Where is he now?" Asked Michael.
"He died," said Lottie. Michael opened his mouth of apologise, but she smiled. "It's alright. He'll never be gone, though. He'll always be with me."
Michael smiled back and nodded.
"Come on, I'll fix you up." Lottie led him to the sofa so that they were sitting next to each other. She opened the bottle of the alcohol she had grabbed and poured a bit onto the flannel. Hesitantly she reached for his injured hand. "Sorry, can I...?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, nodding before he held his hand out for her to take.
She smiled back at him nervously as she took it. "This may sting a little," she warned. She carefully pressed the flannel against his cuts - which he winced slightly in response to. He chuckled slightly at himself.
"Thanks," he said softly as he watched her work.
"That's quite alright," she dismissed. "I'm preventing collateral damage," she joked.
He furrowed his brows. "'Collateral damage'?"
Lottie smiled, looking down at their hands and shook her head slightly. "If Polly found out, she wouldn't get mad at you, but the rest of us and I don't think we will survive her wrath," she teased.
"Oh," he chuckled.
She put his hand down and opened the kit, picking up a small tub. "An ointment to help it heal," she explained. As she massaged it onto his cuts, she asked, "Did you mean what you said - before? Are you definitely staying in Birmingham, then?"
"That's the plan," he replied, eyeing her to see her reaction.
A smile tugged at her lips, but she tried to ignore it. "Polly will be happy," she noted. "She's been so much happier since you've been here."
He didn't respond at first, but then he said, "Are you happy?"
"About what?" She asked evasively.
"About me staying," he replied.
Lottie focused on his hands, not trusting herself to speak. She was happy that he was staying. She wanted him to stay. There was something different about him than anyone else here. He was a thinker - quiet, logical, cunning. There was a determination that looked at the long game. He was quite similar to Tommy in some ways, but there was something in him that contrasted with the pure fire that was present in the rest of the boys and in herself. He seemed to trigger something in her; an honesty. She didn't know if she'd truly been honest with anyone for years, but with him... She wanted to tell him everything - reveal every inch of her soul to him... but how could she? He'd hate her as she hated herself.
With a shy smile, she looked up into his grey eyes and nodded. "Well, you're not completely annoying, so..." she teased.
His lips broke into a grin.
The feeling of his hand adjusting in her own caught her attention. She had forgotten that she was holding it, and now he had moved it so that his fingers were linked with her own. Her heart thumped heavily and her bright blue eyes widened. Looking down, she slowly held his hand back. Now her heart was a bird, attacking her ribs to be free. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Michael looking directly into her own eyes and before she knew it, they were both leaning in towards each other. Letting her eyes flutter shut, they closed the distance between them, his other hand carefully tilting her chin. Their lips did not meet in a passionate craze, but softly; his lips smooth against her own. She reached up with her free hand to his cheek, pulling him closer to her, deepening the kiss.
Suddenly, the door swung open and the two of them jumped apart, their hands still holding. Gasping, Lottie looked over to see a very surprised Maxim. He stared at them with wide, awkward eyes.
"Maxim," Lottie breathed, clearing her throat. "I was just, um, I was just-" But she couldn't think. Her mind was still in a daze from the kiss - the perfect kiss.
"She was helping me clean my cuts," explained Michael, pulling his hand away and straightening his jacket. "I found myself in a bit of trouble."
"Yes," she nodded, her mind still dazed.
Maxim looked at them, his gaze flickering between them. "Right."
Michael stood awkwardly. "I better go," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Lottie nodded. "Bye."
Michael vanished from the room, but the cousins didn't move until they heard the front door shut. Maxim raised his eyebrows. "'Helping clean a cut'?" He questioned.
"Oh, go away, Maxim," she sighed, chucking a cushion at his face.
Maxim only laughed as he left the room towards his own, leaving Lottie on the sofa. Once alone, she touched her lips tentatively, before smiling to herself.
***
As soon as Lottie woke, memories flooded before her eyes of the night before. Smiling, she relived the feeling of his lips on her own. His grey eyes as they stared into her own. Suddenly, she jolted upright as fear washed over her, realisation hitting her. She had kissed Michael. He had kissed her. And he was Polly's son. "Fuck," Lottie swore. She hadn't had a chance to talk to him after as Maxim had walked in. What if he told Polly that he had been round? Or that they'd kissed? She couldn't risk Polly finding out.
Jumping out of bed, she quickly dressed and put on her makeup. She tried to make her auburn hair look presentable, but in the end, gave up and decided to cover the mess with her beret.
Walking as fast as she could, practically running, she made her way to Polly's. When she entered the house, her breathing on the heavy side, she tried to recover. She straightened her dress and forced herself to breathe in steady breaths. As calmly as she could, she peered through the rooms for any sign of Michael. Anxiety rose within her when she couldn't find him on the bottom floor, but like a godsend, she saw him walk down the stairs. When his eyes landed on her, his lips peeled into a smile, but before he could say anything, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the dining room and shut the door behind them.
Chuckling and confused, he said, "Nice to see you, too."
Lottie nodded absentmindedly. "I need to talk to you," she said in a hushed voice, "about last night."
Michael's smile faded slightly and his face become more serious. He waited for her to continue.
"Have you told anyone about what happened?" She asked.
He shook his head.
"Not even Polly?"
He scoffed softly. "It was only last night," he said. He lifted his hand to hers, his palm soft against her skin. "Why are you so worried?"
Shit. Her eyes widened slightly as she tried to think of a lie. "Because... then you'd have to explain why you were round mine, and then you'd have to explain that you'd gotten into a fight. And, well, Polly would murder us all." She looked up at him with large eyes. "Can you promise not to tell her?"
He nodded and smiled softly at her, the corner of his lip perking upwards. "I promise not to tell her."
"Thank you," she replied in a warm voice, smiling in gratitude.
It was then the two of them realised how close they were standing with their hands holding. Lottie felt themselves leaning in closer to one another, but when their lips were mere centimetres apart, the door to the betting room opened, and John stood in the doorway.
Why the fuck did they keep being interrupted? Lottie thought to herself. However, the look on John's face made her instantly step away from Michael. His expression was a mixture of hurt and anger, but became cold when he disappeared back into the betting room without a word. Lottie let go of Michael's hand, her face apologetic. "I need to, um... I need to talk to him," she said.
"Alright," said Michael, nodding, but he was looking at the closed door, calculating.
As she moved to the door, he quickly grabbed her hand. Turning back to him, she didn't have time to react before he grabbed her face and kissed her hard, whilst still being soft and endearing. Lottie instantly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tightly against her body, feeling his heat spread through her, lighting her up like a bonfire. Breathless, they stepped apart. "I'll see you later," she said, a smirk on her lips.
Michael nodded, a confident look on his face as he walked out to the hallway as Lottie stepped towards the betting room. The room wasn't too busy as it was still morning and so Lottie made her way through the maze of tables to John's office where he was sitting, an expression like concrete on his face. She stepped into the room. What was she to say? "John-" she began, not knowing where she was going. But he cut her off.
"Are you fucking serious?" He demanded, his angry eyes on her.
Lottie shut the door, her body reacting to his anger with her own. "About what, John?" She snapped.
He scoffed as he stood up and walked round his desk. "Polly's son? You've got to be fucking kidding me."
"What's it to you?" She challenged.
"You could pick anyone - anyone - yet you choose the boy who is constantly around," he retorted.
Lottie raised her eyes brows, her brain clicking. "You think this is about you?" She questioned. "Are you that narcissistic?"
John crosses his arms. "You kissed Nic to make me jealous. You looked me right in the eye as you kissed him. So, yeah, I do think it's about me."
Lottie lowered her eyes. She did kiss Nic with the sole reason to make John jealous. She clenched her jaw. "I'm sorry I did that." When he scoffed, she said, "I really am. But I genuinely like Michael, and I didn't mean for something to happen but it did. It's nothing serious."
"So, you'll play with him until you get bored and then move onto someone else?"
Lottie stepped back. "Is that what you think of me?" She murmured, hurt clear in her voice. Both he and Polly had said that to her. Was that how people viewed her? To be that uncaring and cruel? Perhaps that's what she had become... She thought back to Hill, the young policeman, whose heart she so coldly broke. Perhaps that's what she'd become - but not anymore. Not with Michael.
John instantly looked apologetic, anger draining from his face. "No - of course not, I-" He sighed, struggling for words. "Lottie, I just... Nothing good will come from having anything to do with Michael. Polly doesn't want him to have anything to do with us and so he'll probably go back to wherever he came from. Nothing good will come of it."
"Look, I know it was a mistake!" She exclaimed, frustrated. Everything she did lately was a mistake. "I don't want to hurt him. And I swear it had nothing to do with you. But I like him, John. He's different."
John bowed his head, avoiding her eyes. "Right. Different." He slowly walked behind his desk and sat down. He cleared his throat. "I've got work to do, and I'm sure you do, too."
Hurt, Lottie nodded and left his office. How had she managed to hurt everyone without meaning to? But at the same time as she thought that, her eyes wandered to the door to the dining room and a small smile appeared on her lips. Whether it was a mistake or not, together, they were great kissers.
A/n:
Aw Lottie and Michael - it's finally happening! You have actually no idea how long I've been planning this - literally since chapter one. Lottie was actually closer to John's age originally, but then I realised that Michael was wayyy younger so I changed her age to be closer to his. i hope you don't think it's going too fast - but id love to hear your thoughts
I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter - do you ship them? If so, need a ship name for them aha (mottie?) - anyways, do vote, comment and follow cause I'd love to hear your thoughts