Chapter 12

I rip myself away from Tommy as soon as we leave the establishment, tumbling out onto the pitch black streets of Birmingham.

"What the fuck?" I ask through clenched teeth.

"We weren't getting any answers from there anyway."

I seethe. "Do you have any idea what I risked to be here tonight? All to clear my stupid fucking name for your stupid fucking guns?"

But Tommy only glances at the bruises on my face again, his jaw clenching. "I have a fair idea," he says tonelessly, turning away and walking up the street.

I have no choice but to storm angrily behind him. "I know what you're up to. You deliberately sabotaged me in there. Why's that, Thomas? Do the Peaky Blinders happen to frequent Horton's? Often enough to scribble something on a diary page after they've fucked one of the residents?"

He doesn't rise to my taunts, rolling his eyes as he opens the passenger door of his car. "Get in."

"You think I'd go anywhere with you? Not a chance."

"I'm not letting you walk Birmingham alone at night. Get in."

"I have a horse."

"Of course you do," Tommy mutters. "Always so difficult. Where's the horse?"

"Tied up next to the pub a street over." I stick my chin out. "The owner's son works for my dad. He won't let anything happen to Spangles."

Tommy raises his eyebrows, staring at me incredulously for a moment, then turns and walks up the street once more. For a moment I panic, worried he's going to take Spangles. But he leans down next to another smooth, black car, and says something to the driver before walking back again.

"My brother will take care of your horse," he says. "Your father won't even know she was gone."

I flounder for a moment. "And my stable manager?"

"Even if he has suspicions, there'll be no proof. John will make sure of that."

"You... I..." I struggle to come up with an excuse. "No," I simply say, turning and walking away as fast as I can.

He's right. The city becomes scary at this time of night. Dangers lurk in every alley, thieves and looters hide in the shadows. I don't feel safe as a woman, even with the gun in my pocket. But Tommy's well and truly pissed me off.

And he pisses me off even more when his arms catch my waist, and he lifts me easily over his shoulder.

"Thomas Shelby!" I shout, hammering at his back with my fists. "Put me down!"

"Go on, John," Tommy calls out, ignoring my protests as he finally releases me into the seat of the car.

"Evening, Kimber," I hear John Shelby call out happily, footsteps echoing across the pavement as he goes to take care of Spangles.

"Now you've got no horse," Tommy says. "Are you going to walk all the way back home, or will you be sensible and let me drive you?"

I glare past him at the pavement, wondering if I could outrun him and then John in heels...

He sighs. "I already spoke to the owner of Horton's two days ago. I have a lead." My head snaps to look at him, feeling both furious and betrayed. "I'll tell you on the drive."

I glower. "You couldn't have told me that when you first entered the club?"

His eyes flash with humour as he pulls away from the car. "And miss out on your dance?"

He shuts the door before I can respond. Anger sears through me and I don't speak at all for a few minutes as we snake through the streets. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of asking what the lead is, but finally he breaks the silence.

"How long?" He asks.

"Excuse me?"

He turns to look me directly in the eyes. "How long has he been flogging you like you're a bad horse?"

I press my lips together and face forward. "I am a bad horse."

He shakes his head a little, like he's trying not to smile or laugh at the joke. But then all seriousness returns to his face. "I meant what I said. If he does it again, I'll kill him."

"Why do you even care?" I ask.

I'm not sure why I keep lashing out at him about this. Only that it's been a secret for so long, something all my father's Boys knew about but never questioned, never brought up. To have Tommy know, to have anyone know, feels like a violation of my privacy. I've never had to receive concern about it before, and now somebody is showing it, I don't know what to do with it.

Tommy stays silent. He doesn't answer my question. I scoff and turn away, choosing to stare out at the ink black moors as he drives.

"Somebody robbed Horton's less than two weeks before the guns were stolen," he finally says. "They took cash, but a handful of diaries were also in the boxes."

"Could be a coincidence."

"You're right," he admits. "But worth exploring as we were kicked out before we could ask any further, eh?"

"That was your fault."

"And once again, I find myself in your debt. Hence why I'm telling you this."

"You wouldn't have told me otherwise?" I say. "Would have kept it from me?"

Tommy hesitates. Concern flashes across his face. "I have a feeling this might all get very dark, Kimber."

I stare at him in amazement. "We've broken and entered. Killed three men. I've danced at a fucking pleasure house. And you're worried now that it might get too dark for me?"

"We all have to start somewhere," he says.

We reach the mouth of the driveway to my home. The sun's just beginning to rise above the treetops, spilling shades of tangerine and fuchsia through the sky. I only hope my father chose to get a decent night's sleep, and the unconscious guard in my room hasn't managed to rouse anybody. But more likely — it'll be a bloodbath when I enter.

I decide not to reveal that fact to Tommy.

"Fine," I say, tightening my coat. "I'll investigate without you."

"There's one more bit of information you'll need," he says, lighting a cigarette. "The name of the man who staged the robbery."

"I'm guessing you're going to make me work for it?" I sigh.

A smile flits across his face. "Actually, it would be nice to have you in my debt for once."

"Tell me."

He exhales, flicking ash out of the window. "Alfie Solomons."

I stare at him for a moment, trying to decide if he's telling the truth. He is.

A laugh escapes me, growing louder, elation running through me. Tommy stays expressionless. Smoking.

"I'll be able to crack this and you never will," I say happily.

There's no way Tommy can get the proximity to Alfie to question him, not while Alfie's currently aligned with my father.

I have the sole advantage. For once, I'll be the one making progress, while Tommy can do no more than sit and twiddle his thumbs. That's why he needs me in his debt. And he knows it.

"I'm hoping you'll repay me the favour," he says.

"With information?" I ask, fastening my coat belt and placing my hand on the car door. "Or another dance? You seemed to enjoy the last one."

His eyes flash, like he's remembering it. Tossing his cigarette into the ashtray, he leans in closer, taking my chin in his fingers and holding my face. He tilts my jaw in the semi-darkness. A strange fluttering happens in my abdomen, and I don't dare breathe. I don't dare do anything. His hands are so firm, so certain, and I can make out every freckle across his cheekbones, every scar on his face. Fire blazes through me once more like we're still in that booth.

"Careful, Kimber," he murmurs. His eyes flicker to my lips. "That mouth will get you in trouble one day."

And then he pulls away, taking the cigarette between his fingers and refusing to look at me again.

I finally release a breath as I leave the car. And, though I presume it must be my brain's wires crossing and getting all confused after a sleepless night, my skin still tingles from his touch. It lasts the whole walk up the long driveway.