- FORGED RESOLUTION -
Her back was aching as she twisted on the thin piece of hay-stuffed fabric she guessed was the police station's feeble attempt at a mattress. Her head was pounding, as was her jaw and mouth. She hadn't gotten a minute of sleep as she replayed the events of the previous night over again and again.
Anger was the only thing that fuelled her- anger that Alfie had betrayed them but also anger that they had been so stupid and careless. That they had believed all would go to plan.
The jingling of keys and heavy boot-steps made her sit up, only enough to peer out of the small opening of the metal door. She stood quickly as she heard a key slip into the deadbolt and the door swing open.
A short, gruff-looking officer with a bushy white moustache walked into the cell nodded his head at her.
"You're free to go, Ms. King. Somebody's sorted your problem for you and paid your bail. Consider yourself lucky this time and expect a letter from the court soon."
She just nodded, following the officer out of the cell block and into the main constabulary office.
Turning out the door, she tried not to roll her eyes when she saw Tommy leaning against the side of his car parked across the street.
She kept walking, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders and trying to pretend it wasn't still wet from last night's rain.
"Rose!" he called, but she didn't stop. The apartment would take an hour to walk to but she didn't care. The anger that was slowly burning her up didn't seem to care, either.
It was only a few minutes before Tommy's car pulled up on the wrong side of the road next to her. She finally stopped, letting him take in her bruised jaw and the bloodied scrapes along her cheek.
She tried to read him but it was impossible as always- his face was a near-blank slate of frustrating composure.
"Get in the car," he said. She stared at him, unmoving. He reached to grab her arm but she pulled out of his grasp and snapped.
"Don't touch me," she hissed. "Do you have any idea what happened last night?"
"Get in the car," he repeated. "We're not doing this here."
She hated that he was right. They couldn't fight on the street, not with Sabini's men watching from every crack and corner of the city.
She slide into the seat next to him and he quickly turned onto the road, turning around.
"Where's Arthur?' she asked finally. He was silent for a moment and panic rose in her chest as she remembered he could hang for what Alfie had accused him of.
"I sent him back to the house with John."
She just nodded, suddenly realizing they were headed in the opposite direction.
"Where are we going, Tommy?"
"Home. I have things to deal with in Birmingham."
She was fuming. His short answers, the placid face. No indication that he even knew she had spent the last night in jail.
"Do you even want to know what happened last night?" she spat, turning to face him as he drove, not even taking his eyes off the road. "Do you even care?"
She knew he did, but she was embarrassed and angry and the words came faster than daggers.
"I know what happened."
"Damnit, Tommy! I thought I was going to die! Alfie betrayed us! He just about killed Arthur and you're sitting there like nothing happened!"
He was quiet for a moment.
"I want to slit their throats. I want to go to Alfie Solomons and kill his men in front of him- make him watch before I cut him a smile and then watch him hang. I want to find Sabini and do the exact fucking same."
He was so composed, she wasn't sure if she had heard him right.
"Don't you dare say I don't care."
He finally looked over at her and she could see the anger burning in his eyes.
"I tore the city apart looking for you last night. I was willing to do anything- anything- to find out where they had taken you. I called in every last favour, Rose, and when I found out what happened I broke ties with Alfie and sent him a warning that if he ever hurt you again-"
He took a deep breath and she watched as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white.
"That if he ever hurts you again, I'll burn his fucking city to the ground."
She was quiet for a moment, something deep and warm rising in her chest. The anger fell away for only a second as she looked over at him- his tense shoulders and shadowed eyes. She could tell he hadn't slept.
"I don't need you to fight him for me," she mumbled, cursing the childish need to get back at him for the set up that wasn't his fault. "I can handle myself."
"Ya, you can handle yourself," he huffed, shaking his head. "You'd still be in that jail cell if it weren't for me."
"I wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for you!"
"Is that what you want, Rose?" he said, his voice sharp like a blade as the car revved faster and faster. "Do you want to be at home? Alone? Wasting your days in the clinic?"
"Pull over the car, Tom," she said as they continued to pick up speed.
"What do you want, Rose?"
"I want you to pull over the car!"
They were in the countryside now, just far enough from the city that the breeze was cool and fresh and the endless noise was becoming an echo in the distance.
He pulled over, the car bumping along the gravel outskirts. The silence was eerie as he turned off the engine and they sat in silence for a minute, listening to the other breathe.
"Rose, when I thought you were...when you didn't come home last night-"
He paused and she waited for him to try again but he didn't. Instead, he just looked up at her, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"What we do is dangerous. The life we live is never going to be easy but you chose it when you chose me. If you don't want to do this anymore-"
"What are you talking about!"
"You just said that you wouldn't be here if it weren't for me! You almost died last night, Rose! You went to jail for the Peaky Blinders last night! I-"
She cut him off again, no longer able to watch the fear rising in his eyes.
"But I didn't die, Tommy! I survived- I'm here!"
"I don't just want you to just survive, Rose," he said, his voice suddenly falling quieter.
"I never want to have to go to bed wondering about your safety ever again. Never."
"I can protect myself-"
"That's not the point."
She knew it wasn't. She knew where his frustration just as well as she knew her own.
She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand, holding it on her lap.
"I chose to be a Peaky Blinder because I chose you- I want you!
"The danger, the fighting, the worry- all of it is worth it if it means that I get to be with you. With you at my side, I dare Alfie to come for us again."
There was only the chirping of birds over the blood roaring in her ears.
"I'm sorry I was mad," she sighed, giving his hand a squeeze. "I took it out on you. Alfie humiliated me- he humiliated us- and when it really came down to it...I was defenceless."
The fear had made her angry, fuelled by the embarrassment and knowledge that she hadn't been able to save herself or help Arthur.
He nodded. She watched him think, his blue eyes a storm against the calm countryside. Suddenly, he pulled his hat from his head and turned it over, bringing the brim to his mouth.
"Tommy, what-"
He pulled the fabric away, biting down on one of the razor blades tucked underneath it- the Peaky Blinder's signature. With a tug, the blade came lose and he let it fall into his upper hand.
"I should've given you this a long time ago," he muttered, twirling the blade once in between his fingers before holding it out to her.
"You're a Blinder," he smiled slightly as she took it. "You'll always have our protection and we'll always have yours. The razor blade is our trademark. Your trademark, now."
She smiled and a small laugh bubbled up from her chest.
"Some girls get a ring."
His eyes widened and his head snapped up to look at her. She laughed again, a smile pulling across her face.
"I'm just kidding, my love!" she said, trying to ignore the look of relief on his face as she leaned in a pressed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. Truly."
She turned the blade over in her hand. It was the kindest gift she had ever received- not the blade but the idea behind it. That she was a Blinder and not just one that could defend herself but would also never be alone.
"Now start the car and let's go home."
He laughed. She knew she would never tire of the sound and the ease with which his head tipped back and the corner of his mouth pulled up.
"Yes," he nodded, turning the key. "Let's go home."
***
She could smell the city before she could see it- the thick, burning coal smoke was a familiar blanket over all of Birmingham that welcomed her back.
People waved or dipped their heads when they saw Tommy in the front seat and he simply smiled and lifted a hand in response. The King of Birmingham.
She waited for them to turn off the hughstreet and towards Tommy's house or the Shop, but he just continued down the cobbled road, eyes forward.
"Where are we going?" she asked, smiling at the dressmaker who waved at her from the sidewalk.
"There's someone I need to pick up from the police station," he said, pulling up to the curb out front of the small constabulary.
"What?" she said, not waiting for Tommy to open her door before she jumped out and walked towards the door. "Who?"
"Well, it turns out Alfie and Sabini's sabotage and your arrest weren't an isolated event."
She sighed. "Oh, answer the bloody question, Tommy. What happened?"
She walked through the door he held open, the two policemen at the desk immediately looking up with wide eyes.
"Ma'am-"
She ignored them, turning to Tommy, raising her eyebrows. A small smile curved on his lips as he looked down at her.
"The coppers raided Polly's house- you know, that new one just outside town."
She knew the one. They spent months trying to find the right one before Tommy bought it for her as a surprise only a few months ago.
"Yes," she said, tapping her foot. "And then what happened?"
He smiled a little bigger, waving his hand at one of the officers.
"Go get him."
"Tommy what the hell-"
"They arrested her dinner guest."
"And who was her dinner guest?"
He cleared his throat, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket and running it along the seam of his lips before lighting it.
"I meant to tell you about him earlier, but-"
He paused as a young man, no older than twenty, walked into the lobby. He was handsome- short and strong looking with tanned skin and dark, searching, blue eyes. He looked exhausted from the night in the cell, his suit rumbled and his face pale. She knew they had never met, but something about his face was achingly familiar.
"Hi," he said, clearing his throat and looking from Tommy to the floor to Rose and back again.
"Rose, this is my-"
She cut him off. "Who are you?"
"Hi," he tried again, "I'm Michael Gray."