Arabella || Peaky Blinders [Michael Gray]

eight

Chapter Eight
"Why the fuck weren't you there?!"

Tommy Shelby burst through the doors of the mortuary, the sudden noise startling his brothers, whilst causing Arabella to practically jump out of her skin.

Arthur straightened up quickly, turning to face him. "Where the bloody hell have you been?"

"Is it true?" Tommy asked, glancing at the three of them in turn.

John cast a wary look over at Arabella, whose entire body had stiffened at the sound of Tommy's voice. "Bells," John warned quietly, reaching for her hand, but she smacked him away, pulling herself up from the steps.

"Yeah," Arabella responded bitterly. "It's fucking true." Tommy started to move down the stairs, but came to a stop when Arabella began to storm up them, straight towards him. "Morrow came for my brother, he killed the men watching him, then he cornered him, and fucking shot him!" she snapped, her voice elevating with every word. "He fucking killed him!" Arabella reached for Tommy, shoving him backwards. "And where were you, huh?!" A cry hitched in the back of her throat, and her voice rose in pitch. "Where the fuck were you, Tommy?!"

"Arabella–" He began calmly.

"Why weren't you fucking there?!" She pounded a fist weakly against his chest, her bottom lip quivering as tears brimmed in her eyes. "Why the fuck weren't you there?" She whispered, falling against the wall defeatedly.

"I'm sorry," Tommy spoke solemnly. He knew of the pain Arabella had been through, losing her father to this business, and now her brother. Though Peter Morrow wasn't his fault, he'd made promises to both Newell siblings that it would be sorted. Even more so, he promised their father he'd keep them safe.

"Morrow didn't get far," Arthur informed Tommy, who snapped his head up, having been lost in thought. "We got the bastard."

"That's good," Tommy said, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "That means Arabella is safe to go home."

Arabella glanced over at him through watery vision. She kept a trembling hand on the wall, steadying herself. Whether she was still in shock, or it was simply just freezing in the mortuary, Arabella hadn't been able to stop shaking since they'd been down there.

"What fucking home?" She asked him. "My home–" she pointed a hand in the direction of her brother's body. "–My home is right fucking there, and now he's gone!" She took a deep breath, her voice beginning to shake. "I've got nothing, Tommy. I've got nothing to fucking go back to."

"You won't be alone," he told her, and Arabella shook her head, instantly dismissing his words. "You won't," he assured her. "I made a promise–"

"Well then maybe you should stop making promises that you can't fucking keep!"

Her sharp tone cut through the air like a knife, the words pummelling against the chests of the Shelby boys.

The four of them stood in silence for a long while. Arabella's heart thumped loudly in her chest, and she took a deep breath, moving to sit down on the steps again.

Arthur felt a wave of sadness overcome him as he watched the girl sit down, her body still trembling from the shock of the day. He looked up at Tommy, who had become lost in thought, a sense of grief overcoming him as Mason Newell's death finally seemed to register in his mind. Tommy had seen so much death, felt so much death in his lifetime, but it never seemed to get any easier.

John remained sat on the steps, his elbows resting on his thighs, and his head in his hands. He had also suffered a lot of loss in his life, but the death of his close friend was one of the hardest things he was having to come to terms with.