Devil | A Solomons

TWENTY FIVE - ANSWERS

Irina stood behind Thomas, her heart thudding inside her chest so hard she thought it might crack her ribs.

She was hiding behind Tommy's frame, or at least trying to. He knocked on the door using the brass lion's head, taking a step backwards, waiting.

He glanced over his shoulder and gave Irina a reassuring nod, his face bare of a smile, but a nod all the same.

The two of them had taken a cab to Alfie's home and Irina had been more or less silent the entire journey. Thomas accompanied the silence peacefully, though his mind was the opposite and he was sure Irina's was the same. He was confident there would be a logical, rational explanation for the situation, and he desperately wanted to console and comfort Irina with kind words, but he didn't want to give her false hope.

Men were dirt, and Tommy was no stranger to that. He knew the worst men on the earth, even being friends with some of them. He knew that no matter how romantic and charming they might seem, there was no telling what a new dawn would bring. Alfie Solomons wasn't exempt from that.

And so, Thomas took Irina across London to see Alfie. She refrained at first, unsure at whether it was a good idea to turn up on his doorstep unannounced, but he told Irina that whether she came with him or not, he was going to Alfie's.

The door rattled and Irina's bones froze, her shoulders pulled inwards, her back straight and her knuckles clenched, white fists formed, her rings digging into her skin.

"Tommy," Alfie said, a confused expression on his face, "And Irina."

He peered around Tommy's large shadow, seeing Irina cowering behind him. She desperately wanted to look away, but she knew that if she had any shred of confidence left, she would look him in the eye. And she did.

"I thought you had a dinner booked tonight? Aren't you going to be late?"

"Are you going to invite us in, Alfie?"

Alfie stood in the doorway, his hand clasped around the side of the door and his body casting a large shadow onto the steps in front of him.

He paused, his eyes darting back and forth between Thomas and Irina, both of them stood there with raised eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

Irina instantly knew something was wrong. Alfie was tense and uptight, the polar opposite to the usually warm and inviting smile that she was always greeted with. She thought he would've been happy to see her, ecstatic that after a week, his girlfriend was stood on his doorstep, wanting to be showered in nothing but love and affection.

Only, that wasn't what was happening.

"Now isn't a good time," he scratched the back of his head, "I'm swamped with work and-"

"Alfie? Who's at the door?"

Irina's heart sank into the burning pits of hell, convinced in that moment that she would never open her heart to anybody ever again.

Alfie squeezed his eyes shut when Rebecca called out to him, walking down the hallway and peering over his shoulder to see who the visitors were. Her face dropped the same way it had done in the flower shop, only that time, she didn't cover it up.

Irina wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry, scream, or take the gun that she knew Tommy had in his coat pocket and put a bullet between both of their eyes.

In the back of her mind, Irina was hoping that Alfie had lied to her about the earrings being his mother's and had simply returned them to her, and that was as deep as it had gone. Only it was clear then that that wasn't what had happened.

She looked at Alfie who's eyes saddened, washed over with regret and worry, they were pleading with her desperately, but there was nothing he could say or do to make it any better.

"Really, Alfie? Really?" Tommy said, nodding his head in Rebecca's direction with a disgusted expression on his face.

Thomas had remembered her correctly. She was an average looking woman at best and he hadn't the faintest clue at how Alfie could even glance in her direction when he had Irina in the palm of his hand.

"Irina I'm sorry, let me-"

Alfie took two steps towards Irina but was met with Tommy's palm in his chest, Irina shuffling away from him, looking down at her shoes.

Thomas pulled in Alfie by his shirt, his lips by his ear as Alfie stood staring at Irina, watching in pain as she refused to meet his eyes, her arms crossed at her chest, cradling herself in the cold night air.

"I told her not to break your heart, Alfie. I should've told you not to break her's instead." Tommy whispered in a deep, gritted tone, glaring at Rebecca who stay stood lingering awkwardly in the doorway, not knowing where to look.

Irina felt Thomas place his hand on the small of her back, guiding her away from the house and down the street. Alfie watched from the doorstep, feeling his insides twist painfully as Tommy touched her, wrapped jealousy like he'd never felt before.

"Alfie, what do we do? We-"

"Just leave, Rebecca."

Tommy shrugged off his overcoat and draped it over Irina's shoulders. She was shivering, her skin cold to the touch. Tommy wasn't sure whether it was from the breeze or because he knew just how sick she was feeling inside at that moment in time.

They walked side by side down the street, Irina with her head bowed, occasionally sniffling to herself. She looked frail and tired, a shell of the woman he'd first met the day he walked into her office. He hated the fact that Alfie Solomons had wrecked the pride of the only other person in the world he felt understood him, angry because he knew just how difficult it would've been for Irina to let him close enough to stick the knife into her back in the first place.

They eventually reached Irina's home, neither of them saying anything on the walk back. He followed her up the steps, watching her unlock the door with shaky hands before pushing it open and flicking on the hallway lights.

She wiped the underneath of her eyes clean with her fingers, peeling off the coat and handing it back to Tommy who stood on the front steps.

"Thank you, Thomas. I'm sorry for ruining our evening."

Tommy shook his head, a small but genuine smile on his lips, "Don't apologise. I'm sorry about what happened."

She looked beautiful in the golden glow of the chandelier, her collarbones glittering in the light and her eyes looking like melted caramel. Her skin might've been smudged with black ever so slightly, but Tommy still thought she looked like a million dollars.

Irina had never been intimidated by Tommy Shelby, but in that moment as he stood on her doorstep, she felt a single flicker of what she knew other women felt when he looked at them. The way he was so difficult to read made him mysterious, and the way he looked at you longer than he should made you discover a hidden desire to solve the mystery.

"Perhaps people like you and me aren't made for things like love, Irina."

Tommy walked towards her, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at her. She took off her shoes and sunk down onto her heels, gazing up at him from five inches below.

"Perhaps not. We're made for other things, better things."

Inhaling softly, Tommy moved his lips close to Irina's, grazing them gently as he placed a hand on her waist, squeezing ever so lightly as her hand fell on his chest.

"We can't," she whispered, sparing the distance between them, looking up into his deep blue eyes.

"I know," he replied, "But when has that ever stopped you?"