NEW CHAPTERS COMING SOON.
Small Heath, Birmingham, was an unsafe place to be. Men stumbling drunk out of pubs, whores there waiting for them on the side of the street, with gang fights happening around the corner. Unsafe for young girls... but not i...
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• • •
"She's a killer queen,
Gunpowder, gelatine."
• • •
⚠️Warning this chapter features dark subjects⚠️
Harry woke to the sound of Thomas banging his fist against the bedroom door. She reluctantly left the comfort of her bed and chucked her undershirt over her head before opening the door to a fully dressed Mr Shelby.
"Morning," Harry spoke out with her voice cracking slightly from not being fully awake.
"Meeting in the office in ten. I've got a job for you." He replied gruffly before turning and walking downstairs, leaving Harry in the doorway. His tone was utterly different to last night, revealing something had happened.
• • •
As soon as Harry had got dressed, she raced down the stairs and through to the betting shop. She announced her presence with a quick, firm knock before entering the office.
"Ah, good you're here," Thomas replied as Harry walked into the office, finding Arthur and John standing around the room.
"What's happening?" She questioned, aware of the tense atmosphere that consumed the room.
"We've had a snitch." John's raspy voice matched Thomas' tone.
"Snitch about what?" Harry replied, curious as to what had caused this mess.
"Nothing that concerns you," Arthur interrupted before Thomas could reply. Despite the Cheltenham success, she was unsurprised by his abrupt interruption, knowing she wouldn't be fully trusted with the Shelby business.
"Okay... Why did you want to see me then?" Harry queered, trying to figure out what they needed her for this time.
"We need him disposed of." Thomas imperturbably answered, sending a chill down Harry's spine.
"You want me to, what, kill him?" Harry questioned, wondering if she had miss heard Mr Shelby.
"You wanted to prove yourself as a peaky blinder, ay lad?" chuckled Arthur, to which Harry sheepishly nodded. It was true she did want to be trusted as one of the Peaky Blinders. She had accepted the possibility of more blood on her hands at this cost but was not expecting this so soon.
"Good," Thomas replied, clasping his hands together. His exterior was full of calmness and control, but Harry could sense uneasiness in his eye as if Thomas Shelby was regretting his decision. Harry pushed the thought to the back of her mind, concluding she had most likely miss read Mr Shelby's demeanour. Why would he care what jobs he paid her to do?
"He'll be meeting at green lane this evening at eight. Except he's expecting the PC on our payroll, not you."
"Easy peasy", John chuckled, grinning at her. To which Harry rolled her eyes in response.
"So?" Thomas questioned, ignoring her and John's sarcastic squabble. Instead, he stared into Harry, slightly surprised to find no unsettlement.
Death was a funny thing. To end someone's life would usually greatly disturb a girl of Harry's age. Yet Harry replied calmly with a nod. She was unfazed by the idea of having to kill someone; from the death she had seen in her life, a disloyal, guilty man's blood on her hands was like the water of a duck's back.
"Right. Arthur will meet you in the back of the Garrison at nine." Thomas responded, concluding the meeting.
• • •
Harry stood consumed in the shadows formed by the buildings lining the street. It was approaching eight o'clock fast, with the sky already deserted of light, leaving the few scattered street lights illuminating the cobbles.
Harry carried a gun tucked in her coat that Mr Shelby had given her to carry out this bloodshed. She surprised herself at how calm she was, lurking in the shadows and preparing for what would go down. Her thumb brushed over the cold metal of a gun in anticipation.
Just as Harry started to wonder if she had the right street, she saw a man, no older than 30, walk down the empty street, taking up his position under a street lamp.
Harry stalked forward, silently taking the gun into her hand and removing it from her coat. He seemed unaware of her approach as he continued to smoke his cigarette. Once Harry was within arms reach, she clicked off the safety, speaking lowly as she confronted him.
"By order of the Peaky Blinders."
But with a swift turn, the man suddenly spun around, knocking the gun out of Harry's hand before swiftly punching her in the face. Before the man could finish retrieving his own gun from his pocket, Harry's instincts kicked in as she charged herself at the man tackling him to the ground. Her hand pinned his arm and gun down with all of her strength. She moved on top of the man pressing her knee into his throat, trying to use her more petite frame against the man as she blocked his airways. How stupid of her to think it would go smoothly, Harry thought.
The man's spare hand reached up to Harry's face as he began scratching at her face trying to reach her in a desperate attempt to gouge Harry's eyes as the man struggled for air. Harry tried to lean away from his hand whilst still disabling his other hand, which held the gun. This was not going to work. She finally realised as the man scratched at her face again, drawing blood.
In one swift movement, Harry extended her knee on the man's neck, taking a risk and using it to kick the gun from his hand so that it moved far enough out of reach. With her weight unbalanced, the man pushed Harry off of him and to the ground beside him.
Unexpectedly, Harry rolled back on top of the man throwing punch after punch into his face in hopes of dazing him. Instincts were consuming Harry. She paid no notice to her knuckles splitting open. Once adequately stunned, Harry reached into her pocket, retrieving her knife as she held it to the man's throat with a sadistic grin.
"BY ORDER OF THE PEAKY BLINDERS, YOU FUCKING RAT!"
