CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

               BETRAYAL. THAT WAS WHAT it was, wasn't it? Complete and utter betrayal against the one man that she loved more than anything, the man who sat before her now, innocent and unknowing. 

Tommy Shelby was beyond happy. He'd had a more than good day at the bustling betting shop and felt as though he was finally getting somewhere after a couple of dry weeks in terms of business, so he'd entered the Garrison knowing that there was a blonde Woods girl waiting for him behind the bar.

"Evening, Mr Shelby," Felicity said with a happy smile.

Tommy took to the stool in front of her, swiping the bottle of whiskey from in front of him as well as a glass. "Evening, Mrs Shelby," he returned, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his features but still attempting to cover it by tipping his newfound drink back.

"Mind that," she scolded as he reached for the bottle yet again. "And mind the name ― we've still got a month to go before I'm tied to your hip, remember. I'm still the Woods girl that you've just so happened to pick up until then."

The gangster laughed; his eyes followed the girl as she stuck the whiskey back where it came from before slipping out from behind the bar. Golden tresses pinned back messily and hazel eyes sparkling with the light of one thousand and one suns, she seemed as happy as she ever was, and because of this, so was he. His elation rode on hers and whilst Tommy knew that Felicity had a tendency of persevering her optimism even through the worst of times, he could tell the difference between when she was cowering beneath a problem she was too stubborn to get help from him for. And, with a bit of luck, she might trust him in time to help with every one of her troubles. 

"How's your day been?" Felicity sparked up some small―talk that had no chance of leading into more dangerous talks of betrayal and love and everything in between. She swiped a soft cotton rag from the bar―top and stuffed it between the ties of her apron, and then made her way around; grabbed the buckets and swirled their murky contents about before tipping one into the other, and repeating that with the others that remained. It was a tedious job, and Felicity sometimes found herself wishing that she had convinced Tommy to let her count money or bets at the betting den. . . but the pay was enough to satisfy her and Harry was as lenient of a boss as they came, even if it was because she was more often than not found at sides of the Shelby brothers and their Peaky Blinders acquaintances. 

Besides, if she was to spend all of her days at the betting shop, there would be more of a chance that her guilt would build up so much that it would simply erupt over everything and she would spill her shameful and deceitful betrayal in one awful moment.

"Hellish."

She glanced up at this. "Can I help with. . . anything?" Playfully suggestive, but with the hint of seriousness, because she too wanted to see him anything but stressed over the races he fixed and the deals he made.

Tommy's face remained still as he shrugged ever so slightly. "You can drop those and come over here, for starters."

Felicity laughed, but shook her head. "I told Harry I'd finish cleaning up before six."

"You've got half an hour, then. A lot you can do in half an hour."

She pursed her lips together to repress her amusement, and still she refused, knowing just how much it infuriated him as he needed the release as much as she did. The girl ignored both him and the sound of a chair being pushed out of his way ― instead, she kept tidying the room, swiping glasses from where they lay, discarded, on the tables and stacking them in one another.

Before long, a pair of strong arms had swooped around her waist and she was in his embrace in no time, glancing up at him with laughter on her mouth as he sealed her lips with a kiss, momentarily stopping all words from escaping.

"Tom!" Felicity eventually whined. "I haven't the time, you dolt."

"You've got all of the time in the world," he countered. "Or at least, you've got tonight before we have to do anything, which is more than enough time."

As she stood there, entangled in the man's embrace with happy laughter spilling from both of their lips as he littered her head with soft kisses, a million different possibilities on how she could fuck up the arrangement between her and her father so that John Woods didn't benefit and Tommy did ran through her mind, each one as improbable as the next. All that Felicity had to do was decide whether the chance of succeeding was greater than the chance of bullets raining down on her beloved.

⎯

              "And you say there's four weeks until we're to be joined at the hip, eh?" Tommy later hummed beneath his breath as Felicity sat just a foot away, her legs swung over his as she scrawled a pencil across a page in slow, sluggish circles.

She smiled ever so slightly in response. "Four weeks until it's demanded that I'm joined at your hip like a good Shelby housewife, I mean."

"Since when have Shelby wives ever been housewives?" Arthur cut into their conversation. He sat opposite her in the corner of the booth, with one arm swung over the back of the seat and the other lazily clutching a crystal tumbler that was only half full now. 

"Never, that's when!" John chipped in.

Felicity turned to him. "You're just pissed because you met your match in Esme, Johnny."

"So what if I have? She's a good fuck."

Groans emerged from the girl's lips as she retorted indignantly, contrasting the amusement that spilled from the lips of both Arthur and Tommy. Felicity resorted to complaining at John's immature, boyish remarks that he only continued to make, insistent on winding her up. Laughter filled the air as his brothers watched, with Tommy keeping his hand on Felicity's thigh. . . both so that she might not leap up and respond to John's quips with half―serious fists, and simply because he could hardly bare to be apart from the girl. She calmed him, and he calmed her. 

She responded with a softer smile and moving ever so slightly closer, so that her hip touched his, connecting the two lovers further.

"You can't keep away from the bastard, Ti," John said as he tipped back a bottle and drained the final few droplets. "God, I'll be glad when you're married and actually have an excuse to be all over one another."

Had Felicity not been far too comfortable as she was, she would've got up and smacked him with the back of the notepad. . . as she so often did in response to John's remarks. "Hey, I don't make comments about you fucking Esme at every waking opportunity or Arthur getting them girls at the cinema, so don't make any about me."

"I'm married," John argued. "So I have said excuse."

"You're just a horny git ― you don't get an excuse." 

"Oi!" The man pulled a displeased expression before directing his response to Tommy. "Get your bloody woman under control, why don't you?"

It was then that Felicity threw her pencil at him. . . and much to her satisfaction, it hit him squarely on the head. "He couldn't if he tried," she declared smugly.

John scowled. "Your ego is far too big for you," he criticised, flicking the object back over towards her.

She grinned in return. "There isn't nothin' wrong with that."

"Yes, there is, you cocky fucker."

"Shut up, John―Boy!" Arthur told him sharply, although his words were interrupted with his own loud laughter at the sight of his annoyed younger brother. "If you're in such a sulk, go back home to Esme." 

Felicity laughed and jabbed a finger towards the door. "Take it or leave it."

John mimicked her lazily. "So you're saying there's only four weeks until you're legally Shelby blood?" He asked. "Four weeks until you're family?"

She nodded in triumph, ignoring all of the thoughts that raced through her body in terms of not being on good terms with the Shelby's by the time the wedding came around. "Four weeks, John―Boy," Felicity declared, copying Arthur's nickname with faux fondness.

"And Tommy couldn't have picked any other girl to drag into this family, could he?"

She shrugged. "Don't think so."

Tommy's grip on her grew harder as he pulled her further into his side so that he might plant a soft kiss on the crown of her head before he answered. "I wouldn't want to have anyone else, John. It's as simple as that."

AUTHOR'S NOTE!

i'm so sorry it's been a month since i updated ― i'm absolutely swamped with schoolwork and life problems and i've been desperate to write for this whole time but i just couldn't get this chapter finished no matter how hard i tried. 

so i'm apologising for the short filler chapter but i literally have no time and couldn't fit any more into this chapter. . . but i promise i have a plan for the next few ones and the rest of part 2 (there are going to be 3 parts btw!) so please don't comment about how this is a slow book. . . i know. y'all gonna have to trust me on this <3

thank you for all of your support on this book though! honestly, you make me all so so happy and i'm thankful for you all mwah mwah ― i love you so much! and apologies in advance for the next few chapters ;)

EDIT ― I'M SORRY FOR THE BAD ENDING BUT I'M SO TIRED AND WILL EDIT ANOTHER DAY