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mischievouslittlecreature · 8 days ago

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Part 29: Back From Under the Ground

Summary: Lucy continues to push down her own grief in an attempt to hold everything together while Tommy and Lizzie unravel.

Word Count: 7,742

Warnings: Grief, references to child death, past suicide attempt, sexual content, violence, and chronic pain.

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Chapter 9: Mindful of Tyranny & Terror

When they got home, Lucy went to speak with Frances to finalize the plans for the dinner they were hosting that night with Mosley, Diana, Jack, and Laura McKee. Meanwhile, Tommy went to the dining room to deal with Lizzie. Lucy could hear shouting from in there while she spoke with Frances, and then the sounds of Lizzie’s heels thundering on the floorboards, storming out and upstairs towards the bedrooms.

She found Tommy still in the dining room once she was done with Frances, standing with a hand on his hip and his lips pursed.

“Didn’t sound like that went very well,” she commented, moving to stand beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He sighed.

“She knows what we did.”

“Does she understand why?”

“Of course not.” He rubbed at his eyes. “She’s…” he hesitated, “I don’t want you around her right now, if you can help it. Not without me there too.”

Lucy frowned. “Why not?”

“She’s regressing. And you always were her favorite target. But so long as I’m around she’ll probably behave herself. At least in regards to you.”

“She’s grieving, it’s understandable that she's more emotional than usual…”

“Yeah. But she’d never hit me before.”

“She hit you!?” A flare of wrathful protectiveness surged in her veins, eyes widening.

“Just on the arm when I tried to get her to stay so that I could explain.”

“Fucking hell.”

“It’s fine.”

She gave him a look. “No, it isn’t.”

He touched her arm in silent gratitude. “Arthur’s here. Apparently.”

“Frances told me. Do you want me to deal with him?”

“No. It should be me.”

“Okay,” she rubbed at his chest. “I’ll go get cleaned up and changed and deal with greeting our guests and getting them settled. You don’t need to worry.”

“Thank you.”

She stretched up on her toes to kiss his cheek, then headed for the stairs, going to the bedroom that she shared with Tommy. She changed out of her clothes, taking a quick shower and slipping into a black dress made of silk crepe. It fell to just below her knees, the sleeves short and flowy, a strip of the skirt just at the hips and the top of the collar that hit above her breasts both embellished by lace. She didn’t bother with much jewelry save for her usual set of gold rings, her golden heart pendant necklace, and a set of gold pearl earrings.

Her red hair she swept up into a chignon held by pins embellished with pearls at the nape of her neck. A little fancier and more elaborate than the usual simple updo she’d been styling it in since it had gotten so long. It now hit almost to the middle of her back when fully let down.

“You fucking cunt.”

She stopped, spinning around to find Lizzie standing in the doorway. A cigarette in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other. Asher lifted his head, a soft growl rumbling from his throat where he laid in his dog bed. Lucy sighed, turning back to the mirror to finish fastening her earrings.

“Go to bed, Lizzie.”

“You could have made him stay with us,” Lizzie mumbled, half slurring, staggering deeper into the room, swaying on her heels. “He does whatever you fucking ask of him, and you know it. But you’ve only ever used that for your own selfish reasons. You could have made him stay at the hospital.” She pointed an accusing finger. “It’s your fault he wasn’t there to say goodbye to her.”

“Tommy makes his own choices, Lizzie.”

She didn’t seem to even hear her. “You could have made him stay with us at the funeral. You could have made him stay with me.” Lizzie swallowed hard. “You could have gotten him to be the husband that I wanted…”

Lucy rolled her eyes. Seemed that Tommy was right. She really was going down that road again. “He could never be the husband that you wanted him to be, Lizzie.”

“You’ve always enabled him,” Lizzie rambled on. “Always allowed him to feed into his worst impulses. Have you ever once stopped to think that maybe you agreeing with everything he says or does has hurt him far worse than it’s helped?”

Lucy’s fingers tightened against each other, turning around to face her. “And you think that you’re a better influence, I’m assuming? Even though all you’ve ever done is bitch about who he is.”

Lizzie’s eyes shined with a hatred that Lucy had not seen reflected in them for nearly four years. “You shouldn’t have taken him from me today.”

“I didn’t take him. We had business to attend to.”

“You mean murdering people in Ruby’s name?”

Lucy shook her head, taking a step forward. “Every moment that you spend with each other, you are both miserable. Why do you think that him being here would have helped anything? You’re both so much better, so much happier when you aren’t together. So yes, I took him away, if that’s how you really want to put it. Because it was what was best for all three of us.”

Lizzie stared down at her, face twisting with a harsh, humorless laugh. “You’re going to try to get rid of me. You think you can shove me aside and take my place as his wife without consequences now that Ruby’s gone, is that it? Well let me tell you something, you little slut,” she took a step forward, crowding right into Lucy’s space. “You won’t be getting rid of me that easily. I’m not going anywhere. And I will never let you become Mrs. Shelby. Not as long as I fucking live.”

Lucy stared at her, brows raised. Where once Lizzie’s words may have elicited insecurity and melancholy, all she could feel now was fury and annoyance.

“Give me the bottle,” she ordered, hand held out. When Lizzie didn’t move, she ripped it from her hand. “I’m going to be nicer about this than I should be,” she said slowly. “Because you’re grieving. And because you’re drunk. Go to bed. We have guests coming and seeing you like this will only worsen their already very low opinions of you.”

The smug look of triumph on Lizzie’s face started to wane away.

“Get out of my room,” Lucy jerked her head towards the door. As if sensing her emotions, Asher rose to his feet, another growl in his throat, ready to leap at Lizzie if ordered to.

“You don’t get to–”

“I imagine Tommy would be very interested to hear what you just said to me. Should we go tell him now?” That made Lizzie close her mouth, eyes widening as her drunken mind seemed to finally realize just how much trouble she would be in when this made its way back to Tommy. Lucy cocked her head. “Go sleep this off, and maybe I’ll consider keeping this whole thing between us.”

Lizzie’s eyes still burned with anger, but there was more shame and fear in them now. Her jaw tightened, as if she were trying to physically restrain more venom from spewing out, then spun on her heel and stomped from the room.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind her, Lucy’s shoulders slumped, a deep sigh leaving her lungs. She set the bottle of whiskey down on her vanity. Though not before giving it a longing look. Fuck, she could do with a swig right now.

Asher padded over to her, whining softly and nudging at her shins with his nose.

“I know,” she scratched him behind one ear. “Thanks for having my back, big guy.” His tail wagged back and forth at the praise.

Sitting down, she fastened her heels to her feet.

She could not let Lizzie’s words get to her. Not now. She needed to be focused.

It didn’t matter anyway. She’d already come to the conclusion on her own that she and Tommy could never be married. Not after Charlie made her promise not to send Lizzie away. They were stuck with her forever.

It did just further solidify things though. Originally she had thought that maybe Lizzie would go without much fuss. She maybe would even be relieved at the notion of divorce and the opportunity to be free to seek out her own happiness. Maybe she could finally find that nice, normal man she was also trying to brute force Tommy into being. But clearly that wasn’t the case. Lizzie would never allow Tommy to divorce her without a fight. And that could get very ugly. On multiple counts.

With a defeated sigh, she checked her makeup one last time in the mirror, collected the bottle of whiskey to give to Frances, and made her way downstairs just when the first car carrying their guests arrived.

Diana was the first one through the door, Mosley right behind her. Lucy could see two other vehicles already approaching down the path leading up to the house.

“Lucy,” Diana greeted her with the smile of a viper right before it was about to strike, pulling her into a hug before she could protest. “We were so very sorry to hear about dear little Ruby.”

Lucy swallowed hard around the lump that formed in her throat. It had been a long day, and she could feel the grief that she’d been trying to suppress attempting to work its way back up.

“Yes,” Mosley agreed. “What a terrible tragedy.”

“Thank you,” she managed, politely sidestepping them to greet McKee and introduce them. Jack was in a car almost right behind her, both also extending their condolences.

“Mr. Shelby apologizes for not being here to greet you himself. And Mrs. Shelby sends her deepest apologies, but she won’t be joining us. I’m sure that you all understand…”

They all mumbled their agreements.

“If you follow me into the dining room, Mr. Shelby will be with us in a moment,” she led the way in, letting one of the servants inform them of their food and beverage options while she slipped out the back door to tell Tommy that everyone had arrived.

She found him in the wine cellar, sending Arthur out through a backdoor.

“Everyone’s here,” she informed him once Arthur was out and on his way. “I got them set up in the dining room.”

“Thank you.”

“How did things go with Arthur?”

He rubbed at his eyes. “I tried to set him straight.”

“Think it worked?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

She wrapped her arms around his middle, giving him a squeeze. He hugged her back, burying his face in her hair.

“I drank a mouthful of wine,” he admitted, voice muffled a little where his face was pressed against her.

“Oh?”

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she stroked his back. Now of all times, she figured that they could both be forgiven for a little slip or two.

“You look beautiful.”

She felt her cheeks flush a little. “Thank you.”

He kissed her temple, pulling back from her to take her hand, leading the way up the stairs. When they stepped through the door, it was to find Frances with Charlie on the main stairway. At Charlie telling them that he couldn’t sleep, Tommy sent him to Lizzie. Lucy gave his shoulder a little squeeze when he walked past her. It would probably be for the best for both of them. Drunk and devastated as Lizzie was, having Charlie there with her might help her in some way. And it would hopefully make him feel safe enough to sleep.

For a long moment, Tommy rested his fingers against his eyes. Lucy watched him physically try to pull himself together, laying a hand on his shoulder. A part of her wished that he’d just let her sit in the meeting in his place and report to him after.

I’m right here with you, she spoke silently through the bond between them, feeling him touch back at her through it gently.

When they slipped silently into the dining room, Laura McKee was singing. Lucy’s heart nearly stopped in her chest when she recognized the song. Her mind flashed back to a time that felt like eons ago. A happier time. A simpler time. Sitting in the Garrison with Tommy at her side, listening to Grace’s low voice crooning with song.

The only one of the group to originally notice them while McKee sang was Diana. Her eyes fixed squarely on Tommy, head cocked with interest. When he finally moved, McKee immediately ceased singing at the sound of his heavy footfalls. They took their seats, and the meeting commenced.

Lucy did not say a word the entire time. Tommy barely spoke either, both of them just listening as the people around them schemed. Lucy could not help but wonder if the four other occupants at the table really were so unaware of just how evil their words sounded.

She felt physically sick when Mosley forced Tommy to join him in giving the Seig Heil salute in order to prove his loyalty to the cause to Jack. But she was thankfully spared from having to do the same when one of the maids came wandering in, bending to whisper into her ear.

“Miss. Winters, Mrs. Shelby is outside in the stables. She won’t come back in…”

She let out a heaving sigh. So not even Charlie could manage to keep Lizzie in one place. “Thank you, Clara. I’ll deal with it.” She rose from her seat, offering Tommy an apologetic look at leaving him alone with the fascists.

Sorry.

He gave a minuscule shake of his head. Go. I’ll be fine.

“If you'll excuse me, I’ll be right back,” she said, giving Tommy’s shoulder a squeeze and slipping out the door.

Lizzie was in fact in the stables, sobbing softly into the white coat of Ruby’s horse. Lucy blinked hard against the memories of taking the sweet little girl out riding him. How she’d laugh and shriek with delight when Lucy drove him into a fierce gallop across the property.

“Lizzie,” she sighed, going to her and taking her by the shoulder. “Come inside.”

“No,” she weakly tried to pull her arm away. “No, I want to stay out here.” She trailed her fingers through the horse's pelt. “He understands.”

Lucy glanced at the horse, staring into his sad dark eyes, then turned her gaze back onto Lizzie’s tear stained face. “I miss her too, you know. I loved her. I’m not saying that it’s the same.” Despite how much she had loved Ruby, she did not want Lizzie to think that she was trying to compare their loss. “But, you aren’t alone in your grief, Lizzie.” She gave her a small tug. “Come back in the house. Before you catch a cold.”

Lizzie sniffled, giving Ruby’s hose a kiss to the nose and letting Lucy guide her away. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled as they walked. “For what I said. Please don’t tell him, Lucy.”

“You know that I can’t promise that.” She told Tommy everything. It was doubtful she would be able to bring herself to keep this from him too. “I’m not your enemy,” she added, as if she had not been planning to take Tommy from her before Ruby had gotten sick. But what Lizzie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “We’re not going to make you leave just because Ruby’s gone, alright? You don’t need to fight me for him to make sure you’re looked after.”

Lizzie pulled her coat tighter around herself. “Sometimes I get so scared,” she whispered.

Lucy cocked her head. “Scared of what?”

She wiped at her nose. “If he’s not obligated to take care of me because we’re married, I might–I might–” a sob stuttered her lungs. “I might have to go back to working the streets.” She started to cry harder.

“Lizzie.” Lucy took her by the shoulders. It made a lot of sense, actually, now that she thought about it. Lizzie’s fear of having to go back to the life she’d once lived was motivation enough for anyone to act a little crazy. “Even if you and Tommy were to separate, we would never allow that to happen. He’d give you pay. We’d make sure you had a house and whatever else you need. You will never have to go back to what you had to do before.”

Lizzie sobbed hoarsely, gripping at her arms. “I don’t understand why you’re always so nice to me. After everything that I’ve done to you…”

“I’ve deserved at least some of it.”

“No. No, you were always so kind.” Her fingers ran along the twin horizontal scars on each of Lucy’s inner wrists. “I’ve been so awful to you.”

Lucy decided that it wasn’t worth it to try to argue with her when she was so drunk and upset. “Come on,” she wrapped an arm around her and helped steer her the rest of the way back to the house. “Where’s Charlie? We sent him to you.”

“Asleep.”

She nodded. Good.

“I am sorry for what I said, Lucy.”

She felt her jaw clench unconsciously. This was how it used to always cycle: Lizzie would say something horrible to her, then she’d cool down and get her head back on straight, and come back with apologies in abundance. Promises that it would never happen again. Until it did. It wasn’t until Lucy tried to kill herself that Lizzie had stopped with the horrible jabs entirely.

A part of her always wondered if Lizzie stopped because she actually realized how much she’d been hurting her, or because she was scared to death of what Tommy would do to her if she crossed that line again.

“Don’t let it happen again. I mean it,” she stopped, grabbing Lizzie by the face and making her look at her. “You can’t start this back up, Lizzie. He won’t let you get away with it, and I may not be able to stop him from leaving you this time.”

“This time?” Lizzie quoted back at her. Lucy gave her a small, pitying smile.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve stopped him from divorcing you over the years?”

Lizzie stared at her, seemingly stunned, though whether it was at the revelation that Tommy had considered leaving her multiple times, or that Lucy had stopped him, she couldn’t be sure.

“Why?” Lizzie asked quietly. Lucy smiled sadly.

“It’s what’s best for everyone.”

“Not for you.”

“No,” she acknowledged, feeling a deep rush of melancholy overtake her. “But I gave up on ever getting my happy ending a long time ago.”

Lizzie stared at her, then surged forward, clumsily crushing her in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Lucy squeezed her back. “Me too.” She let her go and ushered her the rest of the way to the door, leaving Lizzie with Frances to help her get back to bed while she returned to the dining room. She took her seat again just as Jack announced that he was officially opening Boston for the import of Shelby merchandise.

Well. Some progress there, at least. She looked over at Tommy, and went still. He didn’t look well at all. His face was drawn and tired, lips downturned in a deep frown. Some of the color had gone out in his cheeks. His eyes were focused solely on something by the fireplace. She followed his gaze and felt her breaths momentarily stop at the sight of Ruby’s little painted chair. Her favorite one, that she liked to sit on next to the fire when she was chilled.

She tore her eyes from the small chair to fix back on Tommy. She could see him starting to fray at the edges, dangerously close to unraveling.

Go. She pushed the thought to him urgently. She could take care of everyone else. But he needed to get out of there before he snapped.

Diana–of all people–seemed to also have picked up that it was time to end the meeting for the sake of their host, suggesting that they all say goodnight at the same moment that Tommy practically launched himself from his seat and strode out of the room without a word.

Lucy rose shakily from her seat. Just a little more. All you’ve got to do is say goodnight and get them out of the house, and then it’s done.

“I apologize if Mr. Shelby wasn’t as…animated as he usually is…”

“Oh, dear, don’t apologize,” Diana smiled. “We all understand.”

“We’ll all be in contact with each other soon, then,” Lucy said, waiting until everyone nodded before leading the way to the door. She hovered nearby, supervising them all receive their coats and waiting for their cars to be brought around. Her hand dug around in her pocket for a cigarette to light to give her hands something to do.

“Perhaps,” Diana’s voice crooned in her ear. The men were busy speaking with McKee, not paying much attention to them. “It would be possible sometime to arrange a meeting with just myself and Thomas.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, plucking the cigarette from her lips. “He does have some business that he’d like to discuss with you.” He’d been talking about using Diana to help with some of his housing projects.

“Is it always business with him?”

“Yes.”

She could not be entirely certain it was approval or not that she saw in Diana’s eyes.

“But,” she added, “you need to understand, Diana, that regarding any…business you have with Tommy, I will be present as well. And that’s non-negotiable.”

Diana searched her face, smirk settling across her red lips. “I can be agreeable to that.”

Lucy nodded. She’d thought as much. Ada had said that while meeting with her Diana bragged about fucking women as well as men. “Then we’ll be in touch.”

“Wonderful.”

McKee was the first to leave.

“Miss. Winters,” Mosley turned his attention to her as they all watched McKee’s car drive away, sliding on his gloves. “A pleasure as always. Do extend our deepest condolences to Mrs. Shelby, will you? A shame she could not be here tonight, but of course we understand.”

“I will, thank you.”

“The death of a child is an irrecoverable thing. It has the potential to tear a couple apart,” Jack stated, shrugging on his coat. “Or it could bring them closer together.”

Lucy shifted, deeply uncomfortable with all their attention suddenly turned fully onto her, even with Frances there with her. Why did it feel like everyone and everything was trying to instigate a resurgence of the insecurities that used to torment her?

She said quick goodnights to all of them, thankful to watch them depart to their vehicles and drive away.

“Are you alright, Miss?” Frances asked.

“Mhm,” Lucy hummed, still watching the taillights draw farther and farther away from the doorway.

“Come away from there before you catch a chill, love,” the housekeeper drew her back with a gentle hand, turning her face and smoothing a lock of hair that had fallen from her pins behind her ear. “You’ve been so strong for all of them. I know Mr. Shelby appreciates it.”

“Where is he?”

“He went outside.”

“Right,” she ran a hand down her face. “You can go to bed.”

Frances nodded, stepping away, then turned back to her. “Miss?”

“Hm?”

She hesitated. “Supporting Mr. and Mrs. Shelby while they mourn doesn’t mean that you aren’t also allowed to grieve.”

Lucy gave her a weak smile. “Yeah. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, Miss.”

She waited until Frances left before going to one of the side doors, stepping out onto the grounds. Her arms wrapped around herself, shoulder leaning against the doorway while she scanned the darkness around them to try to find Tommy’s figure amongst the trees. Asher came padding up to her side, tongue lolling. He looked up at her, his tail starting to wag hopefully.

“Not right now, boy,” she apologized, giving him a few scratches behind the ear. Normally she took him for a quick walk on the grounds just before they turned in for the night.

She was just considering ordering Asher to track Tommy and lead her to him, when the gunshots started.

Screaming accompanied them, Tommy’s distinguishable roar of agony echoing across the hills. She could see the sparks from the gun in the distance, the little pops of light finally helping her to spot him.

For a moment, she panicked, hand flying to where her pistol normally sat, snug in its holster against her ribs, only to curse when she realized that she was still wearing the black dress she’d put on for the meeting. She was struck with horrible mental images, of assassins lurking on the grounds attacking him from all angles, or of him holding another weapon to his temple, like he had four years ago, and pulling the trigger. The scream he’d let out was bone chillingly similar to the one she remembered him unleashing then.

She took off running without even really thinking, not caring that it was possible she could get struck by the gunfire. It was only when she got about halfway to him that she slowed, close enough to make out that he was alone. No enemies to be seen. And he was still standing. Not dead in the dirt. He had his back to her, gun raised and firing blindly into the air in front of him. She stopped, grabbing Asher who had been running at her heels by the collar to make sure that he didn’t try to run to Tommy. Sneaking up on him right now would not be the best idea.

He fired until the clip ran out, then let the gun drop to his side. She could see his shoulders heaving up and down with his breaths. He swiped a hand over his mouth, and turned around to return to the house. His body stiffened when he caught sight of her and Asher watching him. Shoulders slumping, he began to pick his way back over to them.

“Go get Daddy, Asher,” Lucy told the dog, letting go of his collar. The black dog took off, nearly blending into the dark shadows around them as he bounded towards Tommy. He pranced around him excitedly, tail wagging when Tommy stroked his head. Lucy couldn’t help the weak little smile that tugged on her lips at the dog promptly trying to herd Tommy towards her, nudging and nipping lightly at his heels.

Tommy came to a stop in front of her, sighing deeply, head bowed. Lucy said nothing, wrapping her arms around him. He dropped his face to rest in the crook of her neck, body shuddering. An arm looped around her waist, holding her tight. She could feel dampness from his tears against her skin, but made no comment on them, instead merely stroking the nape of his neck in what she hoped to be a soothing motion.

“Let’s get inside. It’s cold.”

He nodded against her neck, a light kiss pressed to her shoulder in silent gratitude. Leaning back, she wiped away the remainder of his tears with her thumbs, cradling both sides of his face and leaning their foreheads together, then taking the gun from him and his hand in the other, the pair of them walked together back to the house with Asher at their side.

Tommy went into his office while she put the gun away in the cupboard. When she entered the office, it was to find a fire blazing in the hearth, Tommy standing in front of it, his suit jacket off. Ruby’s little painted chair sitting in front of him.

“Tom?”

“I need to burn it.”

She looked down at the chair, and felt another swell of pain just at the sight of it. She could understand why he so wanted to be rid of it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Can I help?”

He looked back at her, and maybe he saw the pain and grief she’d been trying so hard to keep at bay the past four nights since Ruby had died. He held out a hand to her, pulling her to his side when she took it.

“Yes.”

Together, they knelt by the fire, and took hold of the chair. They started with the back, snapping the delicate supports from the seat, feeding each thin spindle of wood slowly into the flames, waiting until it caught and watching it burn and blacken in the depths of the fireplace before adding another. Without any of the doors or windows open, the smell of paint started to permeate throughout the office.

Lucy started crying halfway through. First just silent tears streaming down her face, then harder sobs racking her chest. She nearly folded in half with them. Back bent, arms around her middle.

Tommy’s face turned to her after feeding the wide, top part of the back of the chair into the flames. He shoved the rest of the chair towards the fire, three of the four legs snapping off when they struck the grate, and put his arms around her, pulling her tightly into his chest. Lucy latched onto the front of his shirt, weeping harder than she had known was even possible.

“I know, I know,” Tommy whispered into her hair. She could hear the thickness in his voice that accompanied his own tears. “Let it out, love. It’s okay. You’ve been so strong. You’ve been so strong for all of us.” He kissed her head. “I can’t thank you enough, my darling.” He held her tighter while the sobs continued to ravage her, rubbing her back and rocking her gently from side to side, patiently letting her weep out all the pain she’d been trying to hold in.

“I miss her,” she sobbed out. Tommy clutched her tighter.

“I know,” his voice cracked. “I know, love. I miss her too.”

Asher came padding over to them, his cold nose bumping into her knee before he laid down beside them with a quiet whine. Trouble joined him a moment later, meowing curiously and curling up in front of the fire, watching them with those scrutinizing eyes.

Even after her tears finally ceased into just quiet sniffles, Tommy kept holding her, lips pressing repeatedly to the crown of her head while they watched the fire devour what remained of Ruby’s chair.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like you weren’t able to grieve,” Tommy whispered.

“It’s okay.”

“No; it’s not. You’ve done so much to hold everything together these past few days. I shouldn’t have left you alone to deal with all of that.”

“You didn’t leave me alone. You’ve done more than I think you realize, love.”

He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I couldn’t have survived this without you.”

Turning her face, she kissed him under his jaw. “Me neither.”

“It smells of paint in here.”

“Mm. It’s kind of nice.”

He hummed in agreement, fingers continuing to stroke through her hair. “It is.” His chest heaved with a sigh. “I need to start typing up my notes for Churchill.”

She nodded. A part of her wanted to fuss at him to go to bed, but she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he notes were typed up. He could quote people word for word if he did it right away.

“You go on to bed,” Tommy tilted her head up, kissing her softly.

“I’d rather stay with you.”

He examined her face, then nodded. “Alright.”

She got set up laying on the couch, Asher settled with his big head on his paws on the rug next to her, Trouble curling into her lap. Head resting on an armrest, she watched Tommy set to work at the typewriter on his desk. Every so often, he asked for her recounting of certain moments during the meeting, or checked with her to make sure that he’d quoted a person correctly.

When she finally dozed off, it was to the sound of his typewriter keys still clicking rhythmically, and the smell of paint just barely lingering in the air.

∗ ∗ ∗

She woke up to the sound of the typewriter still clacking away, and Lizzie’s voice demanding to know why Tommy hadn’t come to bed. Lucy’s eyes peeled open slowly. It felt like she’d barely rested at all, and her shoulders ached from laying on the couch.

When she finally blinked the drowsiness from her eyes, it was to see Lizzie reaching out to touch Tommy’s shoulder. Morning light was bleeding through the curtains to illuminate the rest of the room.

Tommy pulled Lizzie’s hand gently from his shoulder, clasping it in his, thumb running along her knuckles. His voice was a hoarse whisper when he spoke to her.

“Not yet. Not yet. I have this work to do ‘cos now I know that I will change. That I have to change. And change for good, Lizzie,” he swallowed. “Not just yet.” He let go of her hand and resumed typing while Lizzie went to peer out the window.

Lucy frowned, sitting up a little on the couch, disturbing Trouble who meowed in protest.

“The death of a child is an irrecoverable thing,” Jack’s words from the previous night rang in her ears. “It has the potential to tear a couple apart…Or it could bring them closer together.”

If she was a less monstrously selfish person, she would have left and given them that chance. How ironic would it be, if it took the death of their daughter for Tommy to finally start to love Lizzie the way that she wanted him to.

She did not really expect that to happen, but it was always possible.

She wondered if Lizzie remembered anything of what she said to her the night before. She still had not entirely decided if she wanted to tell Tommy about it or not. A part of her was tempted to just let the whole thing go.

They would need to talk about discarding their plans for Tommy to leave Lizzie sometime, though. In all the chaos of the past couple of days, she hadn’t had a chance to bring it up to him.

Maybe it would be an easy conversation. Perhaps he would agree with her that it was for the best. If he really did want to change for the better, remaining with his wife was a good place to start.

She wouldn’t bring it up to him just yet, she decided. It would be good to let the dust settle, first.

The last thing that she wanted was to put more on Tommy’s plate.

Lucy wrapped her arms around her middle, as if that would somehow help to hold together the broken pieces of her heart. She took a deep breath, and fully let go of the possibility of any future that she and Tommy would get to have together.

∗ ∗ ∗

Leaning against a lamppost, with a newspaper in her hands, large sunglasses perched on her nose, and a dark haired wig hiding her red hair, Lucy watched Gina step through the door leading into the apartment from across the street.

As soon as the door swung shut behind the slight blonde woman, Lucy started laughing.

It began quiet at first, then grew in volume as she folded her newspaper, tucked it under her arm, and slipped into the red phone booth a little ways down the street to call Tommy.

Oh, this was too good to be true.

She wondered how long this might’ve been going on for. They’d suspected that this was happening, noting the little glances between Gina and Mosley whenever they happened to be in a room together. But the confirmation of it was sweet to taste.

“Hello?” Tommy answered on the second ring. It took her a moment to get her delighted cackles under control to answer him.

“It’s me. Gina’s fucking Mosley.”

“Oh.”

She giggled. “I followed her to his apartment. The one he keeps solely to entertain his mistresses at.” She eyed the building through the phone booth’s window. “Shall I go interrupt them?”

“No, wait there. I’m on my way.”

“Alright. See you soon.” She hung up the phone and went back outside, lighting a cigarette and resuming her positioning of appearing to look over her newspaper while she waited.

A prickle at the back of her neck made her freeze, muscles suddenly seizing with the feeling that she was being watched. Looking up, she scanned the street, but saw no one of interest looking at her. There were two women walking their little dogs on the other side of the road, a man bustling quickly in the direction of the phone booth. A few cars were parked on the sides of the street. There was a man wearing a cream colored panama hat sitting on the bench a little ways down the street from her, reading a book.

Something about the hat gave her pause.

Before she could ponder it all that seriously, however, Tommy’s car pulled up in front of her. She slipped quickly into the passenger seat next to him, giving him a quick kiss to the cheek.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” his eyes focused on Mosley's apartment building. “How long have they been in there?”

“Not long.”

“Right. We’ll wait until he leaves.”

She nodded, pulling off her sunglasses and wig. Tommy reached out to brush her hair down for her.

“How long do you think this has been going on for?”

“I don’t know. I remember noticing them staring at each other during the ballet at Arrow House for Lizzie’s birthday, but it’s hard to say if they’d actually started fucking before then, or after.”

“Jack would have a fit if he found out,” Tommy remarked thoughtfully, puffing on his cigarette.

Lucy smirked, already following his line of thought, gaze returning back to the house. Gotcha, you little brat. With just this bit of information, Gina was theirs.

They waited until Mosley left the building before getting out of the car and approaching. They climbed the steps to the apartment, already knowing the number from previous research Lucy had done on Mosley in the past. Tommy banged on the door to apartment 4C furiously, shoving it open and shouldering his way in when Gina opened it a crack, Lucy right behind him.

She took perhaps too much delight in the look of shock and horror on Gina’s face when they first barged in. And while she recovered quickly, Gina could not quite mask the look of uneasiness that had found its way onto her face.

She was fucked and she knew it. Tommy noting that Jack would disown her if he found out was enough to let her know what would happen if she didn’t do what they said. If she wanted them to keep quiet about this to Jack, she was to report back to them what was discussed when she accompanied Mosley to Berlin to meet with members of the German government.

While Tommy and Gina talked, Lucy prowled the room, attuned eyes scanning for anything of significance. Most of the table tops were clear of anything noteworthy, but there were a few papers on the table near the door that caught her eye. Glancing over her shoulder, she met Tommy’s gaze.

Keep her distracted.

Moving with the fluidity of a big cat, Tommy went to sit next to Gina on the couch, holding her attention while Lucy skimmed over the letters spread out on the table.

Two were of a little consequence, just detailing business associated with the House of Commons. But one…one was very interesting.

Her heart began to pound harder and harder in her ears while she read it. Holy fuck.

Glancing back at Tommy, she nodded, nudging the letters back into the positioning they had been in before she’d nudged them aside to read them. Appearing undisturbed. For good measure she stepped away from the table, opting to instead lean against the doorframe and fiddle with her cigarettes.

It was unlikely Gina would mention this little meeting to anyone, so there would be no reason to think that they’d had access to the letter that she’d just read. But just in case, it was better to pretend like she hadn’t noticed it.

Tommy rose, going to the door, then turned to ask one final question to Gina before they left.

“What are Michael’s real intentions towards me, Gina? And if you lie, I will know.”

He chuckled softly at her answer that Michael intended for them to complete their deal and both walk away. Lucy smirked around her cigarette. And now we know what you look and sound like when you lie, little girl.

They left the apartment with a slam of the door, heading quickly down the stairs and back to their car.

“What did you find out?” Tommy asked, starting the car and pulling out onto the road.

“One of the letters on that table was from Laura McKee. It was addressed to both Mosley and Jack Nelson. It says that as she delivered the letter to Mosley personally, she expected him to read it first and then pass it along to Nelson through means that he trusts.”

“Gina.”

“I’m assuming so. It says that it contains information she wanted to share with both of them.”

“I’m on the edge of my seat here, love.”

She couldn’t help the small smile. She had been right about something; she figured that she’d earned the chance to gloat for a little while. “It says that the IRA informant inside Shelby Company Limited’s name is Billy Grade, and that Mosley and Nelson are welcome to use his services as they see fit.”

Tommy rubbed at his face. “Well, at least that’s that confirmed, then. Anything on what they would use him for?”

“No. What do you want to do about it?”

He frowned, eyes fixed straight ahead while his mind worked. “We can use Billy to feed false information to McKee, Mosley, and Nelson.”

“That would be useful.”

“Get word out to the others so that they know to be cautious around him. But make sure that they understand he is to be untouched for now.”

“What about Finn? With how close they are…”

Tommy pursed his lips. “If you were right with your theory that Finn is the one who told Billy about the assassination attempt on Mosley four years ago…” his jaw tightened, clearly at war with himself, wanting to trust his brother despite his better instincts. “We’ll give him a chance to prove his loyalty, but for now, keep him in the dark.”

“Alright. I think that’s the right choice.”

“Good work spotting that letter on the table.”

She shrugged, bashful. “It’s what I do.” Glancing out the window, her right hand fiddled at her rings mindlessly. “Michael’s going to try to kill you.”

“Clearly.”

“I wish you’d let me deal with him a long time ago.”

Tommy’s arm went around her, thumb rubbing up and down along her upper arm. “So do I.”

Lucy leaned her head against his shoulder, examining him. Conflict danced in his eyes.

“Did I make him this way, Luce?”

“What?”

“I found him at that village. I allowed him into this family. I corrupted him.”

“You did no such thing. He made his own choices. You were trying to do something kind for Polly by bringing him in and offering him employment. It’s not your fault the kid turned out to be a power hungry little asshole.”

Tommy sighed deeply. His eyes closed, expression creasing with pain.

“Which side do you think Polly would have chosen in all of this?”

“I…” she hesitated, not entirely sure how to answer. She so badly wanted to tell him that Polly would have chosen him. But in all honesty, she wasn’t entirely sure. There had been many times when she couldn’t help but think that Polly would have easily thrown the rest of the family in front of a bus if she thought it was what would be best for Michael. “I don’t know, Tommy.”

His eyes looked sadly out at the road. “I think she would have chosen him.”

“He was her son,” Lucy agreed quietly, reaching over to squeeze Tommy’s arm gently. “Does she still visit you in your dreams?”

“Sometimes.”

“And does she have anything to say on this matter?”

“No. Nothing.”

She huffed. Figured as much. “Well, no matter what she would have thought, we’re at a point now where it’s you or him. You do what you have to in order to defend yourself and everyone else.” She smoothed her hand down the back of his head. “He won’t stop at just you. He’ll come for me next. Then Arthur. Then Ada. Anyone who refuses to bend the knee to him or who he feels is a threat. He’ll kill all of us, if he has to.”

Tommy looked at her, and she could see her words taking root, helping to soothe the conflict that was wreaking havoc inside of him.

“I’ll reach out to our contacts in Boston and Miquelon and see if we can find out anything more regarding what he’s got planned. That way we’ll be prepared.”

Tommy’s hand came to rest on top of hers, squeezing around her fingers. “Thank you.”

She smiled softly, leaning closer to affectionately knock her nose against the side of his neck. “Always, love.” She nuzzled a little closer, fingers turning over to interlace with his. “It’s okay. You’re doing the right thing.” She ghosted her lips along his throat. “You’re protecting yourself. You’re protecting all of us, Tommy. Like you always do.”

She heard his breath hitch, and then he was suddenly spinning the wheel to take a left rather than a right. Lucy lifted her head, frowning slightly.

“Where are we going?”

“The apartment.”

“I thought we were going to the train station.”

“Change of plans.” He leaned over to kiss her quickly when they stopped briefly at an intersection. “I need to get you out of those clothes.”

She laughed brightly and buried her face into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne and natural musk. He smelled of pine and campfires. Like safety. Like freedom. Like home.

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