I love metal and weird things \m/

Two weeks, two bloody weeks and his wife had not shown her face in Arrowhead once. He’d gone to the office a few times during this little separation and there was not a single trace of her there. Or his family’s homes. Not a single fucking sign of her whereabouts.

He had blinders scattered throughout Small Heath and even London on the lookout for his Mrs, but not a one had seen her.

Tommy considered himself a patient man but he was starting to unfold. There weren't enough cigarettes in the world to help his every buzzing thought. Did something happen to her? Someone take her? Hurt her?

He slammed his whiskey glass on his desk, “Fuckin’ hell.”

“Brother!” Arthur barked out barging through his office door, “We found her!”

Tommy took a drag off his cigarette waiting for his brother to continue, “Where?”

“One of the boys out in London spotted her at this club,” Arthur supplied, “Says she frequents it often. Boys say it's really nice Tom. Only thing is it’s one of those clubs…”

Tommy grabbed the bridge of his nose; this woman was going to be the cause of a mass murder. He had to give it to her; she was bold. His blood was boiling hot  consuming whatever small concern for her safety he had felt. Wait ‘til he got his hands on her again.

“I reckon we ought to see for ourselves.” Tommy stubbed out the end of his cigarette, “Get John, I’m sure he’d fancy a night out in London.”

***

You sat at the vanity looking at the person in the mirror; she was beautiful, confident and strong. She was breaking piece by piece inside but she was satisfied no one would know it. If there’s anything she was grateful to her husband for, it was teaching her to never let her true self show to those who couldn’t be trusted.

You bit your lip at the thought of Thomas despite him being a real son of a bitch you still worried about if he was taking care of himself. Why should you care? You’re sure the whore he has been sleeping with has taken your place just perfectly.

The acid in your stomach churned with your jealous thoughts. Damn the man to hell for doing this to you. For allowing you to love him when he was incapable of loving you back.

“(Y/n)” one of the stagehands entered your dressing room, “You’re on in five, it’s a real hot crowd tonight.”

You gave the man a nod and a smile, “I’m just touching up me face, I’ll be there in a moment.”

With one last drag off your cigarette you poofed up your hair and tied your dressing robe, the stage was not far from the green room, you already heard the cacophony of drunken men chanting your name eagerly.

God it was a rush knowing that someone still wanted you, appreciated you. Even if it were for all the wrong reasons.

There was just something about the band when they played the first few notes of your number  that made you feel alive again. Happy even. Gave you that rush of adrenaline you have come to crave.

“Gents please welcome to the stage, the talented, the oh so beautiful, (Y/n) (Y/l/n)!”

A deep breath in and you appeared on your playground, the lights dimmed, a spotlight shining brightly on you and your gorgeous smile. You winked cheekily at the crowd of angsty men who were drooling with anticipation.

“Hold up, they don’t love you like I love you,” you sang softly lowering the shoulder of your robe, “Slow down they don’t love you like I love you…’ the men whistled when you revealed your other delicate shoulder.

You turned to face the crowd of men giving just the slightest glimpse of your sinful outfit beneath the robe. Your breath caught in your throat when you noticed a familiar group seated just a few tables behind the owner of the club and his son.

The crystal clear eyes locked on to you, possessively. Right away you knew he was clenching his fist. Hand nearly breaking the expensive glass in his hand.

In a way it filled you with happiness to know you could make him feel what you were feeling because of him. He deserved to eat his heart out. To let the bitter taste of jealousy ruin the precious liquor he was downing rapidly. He had to know that other men wanted you too, but you turned them down because you loved him.

“Can’t you see there’s no other man above you? What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you..” you made it a point to hold Thomas’ gaze especially when your robe came off and you were scantily clad in your favorite bustier and garter combo.

His eyes were like liquid lightning; His jaw was clenched and he snapped something at his brothers to which they flushed a deep red and looked down at their whiskeys.

“What’s worse lookin’ jealous or crazy? Jealous or crazy?” you sang as you descended the stairs, feeling every bit as confident knowing every lustful gaze was on yours, “Or like being walked all over lately. Walked all over lately. I’d rather be crazy.”

“Treat ya like the queen you are if you were mine,’ a young man stated with warm brown puppy like eyes, you ran your hand through his hair nearly making the young lad’s heart stop. Hootin and hollering filled the room when the young man was bold enough to squeeze your exposed thigh.

“Oi! You know who the fuck you’re fondlin’?” That voice was so familiar and it sent your heart racing. Fluttering like a bird who was trapped in a cage.

The young lad’s eyes widened slightly as he took in your husband and his brothers. You didn’t want them to kick up a fuss, especially not at a stranger’s expense.

“Thomas it’s fine,” you said calmly despite that you were all but calm, “No harm done.”

Those blues of his barely spared you a glance as he shifted his body in front of you to create a protective barrier between you and the lad.

“I’m sorry mate,” the stranger replied, “I didn’t know she was your whore for the night.”

You startled at what that little prick had called you; you had half a mind to pummel his smug little face into the ground with your heels but Tommy beat you to it.

It was so quick that you hadn’t noticed John pull you away so that you didn't get caught in the crossfire. Your husband was fast with his cap after all.

For a moment everything sounded like you were in a tunnel, the lad’s screams as he clutched his newly damaged eye, the whistle your oldest brother in law called out.

“Touch me fuckin’ wife again and I’ll blow your bloody brains out!”

Several familiar faces began pouring in through both the entrance and the exit. You couldn’t move from the shock you were in. The patrons were all scrambling to get out before the fuss really started.

All you could see was the river of blood coming from the man who stepped out of line.

“By order of the Peaky Blinders this club is under new management!” your brother-in-law shouted from the stage, as a brawl erupted between the rival gangs.

You looked around for a safe getaway, nearly making a clean exit when Thomas’ deep baritone came from behind you, “For every man’s sake put on me jacket, don’t want to be the cause of so many losing their eyesight do you?”

“You have no right to bark orders at me Thomas.” You snapped ignoring the overcoat he held out for you, walking right by him.

“That much is clear love,” he retorted, grabbing your arm and forcefully placing the coat around you, “According to the owner he had no idea you were me woman, he didn’t even know you had a husband.”

“I wasn’t particularly proud to tell him who me husband is; let alone that he’s a lying son of a bitch.”

Thomas clenched his jaw, but said nothing in return he just led you out of the club and into the safety of the night, away from the sound of the coppers’ sirens.

“Where are you taking me?” You snapped after a few moments of anger charged silence.

“Always so quick to leave me are ya?” He grumbled out lowly and this caused you to stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk.

“You stabbed me in the back Thomas!” You shouted, not caring who heard you, “No woman in her right mind would want to be treated like that!”

“Stabbed ya in the back?” He fired back, “What the fuck are ya on about (Y/n)?”

“Do not play daft Tommy ya know what you’ve done.”

Even though you knew you were right, the look he gave you made you cower a little. You’ve seen your husband angry many times, but this was a whole different side of his anger you had yet to explore.

“I’m not playing anything,” his deep voice rumbled, the way he stalked toward you made you fear that he was a tiger and you were his prey.  

His strong body had you pinned against the brick of the building, his familiar cologne intoxicated you. Made you miss home, him even.

“The only thing I’m daft about is me woman showing off what’s mine to other bastards…” he was so unbearably close that your mind had a rough time coming up with a response.

“I could say the same Thomas,” you glared into his eyes, “Because you allowed other women to have you, and I thought at the very least your heart was mine. What little of it you have left.”

“That’s what this is about eh?” He asked smugly and you couldn’t stand it. You wanted to smack the arrogance out of him.

“Yeah that’s what this is about,” you snapped back, “I thought If you could let someone else ride ya cock, I might as well find me a new one I didn’t have to share.”

Tommy closed his eyes and then took a step away from you a large hand running down his face, he paced in the alley for a moment or two, when he pointed a finger at you accusingly.

“Which one of them bastards touched ya?”

No one.

You never allowed a single man the right to your body. Nobody but Tommy had that privilege but your nasty temper wanted nothing more than to get back at the narcissistic man in front of you.

“It is none of your business Tommy.”

He let out a scoff, “None of my busi—if you don’t bloody tell me I’ll go back in there and tear every one of those fuckers to pieces.”

“Will you?” You asked sarcastically, “Am I your fuckin’ toy? A toy that you never wanted but the moment someone else wants to play with it it’s yours again?”

“I wouldn’t call you a toy darling,” he said coldly, “I’d call you my property, and no one touches my property…”

The insurmountable rage that filled your very being, your soul, couldn’t be caged anymore. You nearly let out a strangled scream.

“I’m not built like you Thomas,” pride be damned you were crying tears of hurt, “I can’t pretend not to care when you go with whores and don’t come home for days at a time. I don’t know how to turn my emotions off. I love you but I will not continue to allow you to make a fool of me. I loathe the people who know about our business, have you seen how they look at me? Like I’m pathetic Thomas! You don’t even have the decency to try and be subtle! The little respect you have for me is disgustin’ and I won’t live like this any longer! I don’t want to be a Shelby anymore.”

Thomas regarded you like he was calculating something. Like there was a plan he was concocting in that wise brain of his.

“I’m sorry love but once a Shelby always a Shelby…” he lit a cigarette from his waistcoat pocket. “That ring on ya finger is like a tattoo. Permanent. Now addressin’ these whores people are telling ya about, what exactly did they tell ya? If I’m to be condemned I ought to know the reason why.”

He was unbelievable.

“You choose to remain stupid til the end?”

“It seems I have no choice,” he took another drag off his fag, “because I don’t remember fuckin’ any whores, let alone any other woman since I married ya.”

“Now you wish to insult my intelligence?”

“Not intentionally, no, but as I said before I hadn’t touched anyone but you. This is the first time you brought this to my attention. You’d rather run away than discuss this with me.”

Thomas shrugged his shoulders, “if you’ve already made up your mind about me being a cheatin’ bastard then there’s nothing I can do to stop ya.”

“I had help Tommy! I didn’t reach that conclusion on me own!”

“Well then tell me what was fuckin said! Because I haven’t fucked anyone who ain’t you!”

The sincerity in his crystal blues cause you to stutter in your recourse. You knew when your husband was lying; he could bullshit anyone in the room said for you.

“People are sayin’ that you and Lizzie have been workin’ some late nights together, I’ve even seen it with me own eyes…”

Thomas flicked some ash from his cigarette as he nodded his head rather mockingly, “Ya have? What did ya see then Mrs. Shelby, that would ruin your trust in me?”

With clenched teeth you replied, “She was hangin’ off your arm like she owned ya, whisperin’ in ya ear and giggling like a fool!”

“Did I ever initiate anything with her?” He barked at you, “What would have me do (Y/n) eh? Throw her on the floor for touching me? Push her off for telling a joke?”

Steam was pouring out your ears at his double standard, “You just took some lad’s eye out for touching me ya damn bastard!”

“He fuckin’ grabbed your arse!” Thomas spat scaring the random passerby who was being too cheeky about listening to your argument.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” Your husband snapped at the stranger, “Beat it!”

His last exclamation to the pedestrian was met with your joint, “Fuck off!”

Only when you were sure there were no other ears about, you continued on with your quarrel.

“Oh for God’s sake Thomas he grabbed me thigh! Had you given me a moment I would have put him straight! Unlike you who decided to use an ex-whore to provoke me!”

“She’s gone legitimate (Y/n)!” He Defended her, “She deserves a chance to make a livin’”

You rolled your eyes, “And you have to be the one to give it to her eh? Fuck my feelings as long as you can have your cake and eat it too!”

“That’s nice (Y/n) real nice, why didn’t you say somethin’ then if it bothered you so much?”

“I didn’t realize I had to remind you that you’re married Thomas!”

“That’s rich comin’ from you! You had your whole fuckin’ chest out for all of London to see with me ring on ya finger! That’s a bloody reminder if there ever was one!”

God, this man was like smashing your skull against a brick wall. This was literally going nowhere. All he ever did was turn the argument around on you.

You snorted out a humorless chuckle, “I’m done Thomas!”

He barely let you take a step away from him, his large palms holding your small face. His eyes looking into yours as if he could see your very soul in them.

“Do ya love me?” Thomas asked you his voice an octave deeper.

“Of course.” You answered without hesitation, “But that’s not the issue here—”

“What is the issue then?”

“The issue is I don’t know if you love me Thomas!”

He wipes at the tears rolling down cheeks with his thumbs, “Look at me love, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made ya doubt my feelings for you. You’re the only person who could make me lose my sense like I did tonight. I love ya, couldn’t love you anymore if I tried. It’s not easy for me darling, these things don’t come naturally to me. I’m trying—”

Suddenly you felt this heavy Boulder of guilt just sitting on your gut; maybe you overreacted a tad, but as your husband said sentiments don’t come easy to him. You needed him to tell you he loved you every once in a while, you were an affectionate person. You could laugh at how opposing your personalities are.

“I know the war changed ya love,” you said softly affectionately caressing his beautiful cheek bones. “I reckon I was a little hotheaded, but now you know how I feel about your Secretary.”

“No more late nights with her,” he said with his lips to your forehead. “I promise on me new horse.”

You gasped in sarcasm, “you must be entirely serious Tommy.”

“Incredibly,” he pressed a chaste but sweet kiss to your lips, “Also serious about killin’ anyone of those fuckers who put their bastard hands on ya.”

“No one but you Thomas has been able to see me bare.”

“Better keep it that way,” he smiled a little, “Otherwise my hands will be stained with more blood.”

You chuckled in to the deep kiss he gave you. Reveling in the closeness you had missed from your husband.

“I’m not too much of a lady where I won’t fight for me husband,” you admitted softly fingers in his chocolate hair, “But your life will be hell Thomas, you will never have a peaceful life if you do something like this to me again.”

“That’s why I married ya darling.” He smirked and it made your heart slam against your rib cage.

“Oi lovebirds we gotta get movin’!” Arthur called from a little ways up the road.

The look of annoyance on your husband’s face made you giggle, “You’d be lost without your brother my love.”

“Sometimes it’s a pleasant thought,” he replied, “Let’s go my Darling, I have something for you waiting at the house.”

“If it’s your cock I’m not interested,” you jested with a chuckle.

The sound of water hitting the cold ceramic tiles, filled the silence around you. Your head tilted back to soak your hair in the spray. Normally your shower was the time you’d enjoy your me time, there was something soothing about the routine that calmed your nerves. 

This time was different.

Your fingers aggressively massaged the shampoo in to your scalp as you cursed your boyfriend’s very existence.

A scoff left your throat; boyfriend? What right did he have to that title? 

Surely you didn’t have a boyfriend who so freely flirts with a beautiful stranger right in front of you.

Your amore didn’t do such things to you out of common decency but more so respect.

You knew his charm was part of his soul, his very makeup but it didn’t make it hurt any less to be so suddenly forgotten as if the last two years didn’t mean anything to him.

How could he allow a stranger to touch him in such a way when he never showed any form of affection in front of others with you? 

You swiped angrily at the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. He was so cruel without knowing it.

Did he even know you left the party early? When you had gotten in the shower there were no awaiting texts or missed calls. He was too busy taking over the world with his band mates.

Drinking champagne with anyone and everyone who was with his label. It seemed so simple for him to forget about how uneasy you were in large crowds. 

Better yet; how quickly did he forget you were even there by his side? 

The only one who looked out for you had been Ethan.  While extremely grateful for his comfort and companionship he wasn’t the one you wanted to hold you and whisper sweet reassurances in your ear when your claustrophobia became too much.

You realized Damiano couldn’t have been bothered. He was preoccupied allowing some pretty woman to grab on to him, hold him, even grope his ass. 

What reason did you have to stay? 

You couldn’t allow him to make a fool out of you in front of such a large group of people.  In order to save face you told Ethan there was a work emergency of your own you needed to tend to and that’s how you ended up here. 

In your Gallery/Studio. Alone. 

Dare you say heartbroken as well.

It was the only place you could think of that kept you tucked away from the world outside. 

It gave you time to mend your weeping heart without the risk of someone you know catching you and asking you what had happened. 

As much as you loved Damiano, maybe it was time for you to let each other go.

With your art receiving more and more recognition and Måneskin taking off fairly quickly perhaps the universe was trying to tell you that your relationship had run its course.

As much as you loved him, sometimes love wasn’t enough. 

You shut the water off and wrapped the warm towel around yourself; the slight chill in the air caused you to shiver.

A moment later there was a knock on your bathroom door. Your mind sifted through every possibility. Only so many close friends and family had the passcode to your studio. 

“Y/N?” That sweet masculine voice called through the door, “Amoré mio?”

Your heart beat once, and then twice, before another knock came, “Cara?”

Of course it was him. 

Perhaps if you stayed completely still and silent he and this whole night would just go away.

He knocked again this time harder. Guess not.

“Sei malato Bella?”  

You nearly forgot the reason you were upset with him when you heard the concern in his voice. Something in your stomach churned uncomfortably, were you being too hasty? 

That horrifying image of that dark haired woman grabbing his ass sent you spiraling back; you definitely were not being too hasty.

“Si, vattene via.”

“Cosa intendi?” he answered in return, “posso entrare?”

“No, I don't want you in here.” You stated solemnly running an agitated hand down your face, rubbing at your cheek.

“Why not?” He asked with concern still in his voice.

“Because I don’t.”

“Why is that?” 

He was starting to pick up on the annoyance in your tone. Realizing that you weren't just hung over from one too many drinks.

“Because I don’t!” You snapped, finally releasing the hold on your anger, “Vaffanculo Damiano!”

“Why are you angry with me?” He asked, taken aback. 

How did he not know what he did? You refused to answer with anything other than, “Vattene Via!”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!” There was a brief moment where you could hear him pacing back and forth in those large platform boots. 

“Amore Per favore, how am I supposed to fix it if you won’t tell me?” 

Your temper got the best of you as you forced the bathroom door open with as much strength as you could muster.

There he was in all his glory standing there, his long hair touching his cheeks, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Looking every bit as confused as you did angry.

“How would you feel Damiano if I let someone grope my ass or my chest?” You spat  clutching the towel around you tighter.  

“Amore you know it meant nothing to me,” he stated so calmly, so evenly, it made your anger flare.

“Didn’t look that way to me,” you bit out, “You never said anything to that woman just laughed and smiled like I wasn’t even there.” 

You shook your head in disgust; why was he even here? Disturbing your peace and quiet to give you some half thought out excuse. You didn’t want to hear another word.

“Get out Damiano,” You said quietly but loud enough that he heard you. “I want to be alone.”

You made your move to get around him but he took hold of your hand. With the hand that wasn’t occupied with his smoke he gingerly placed a kiss on your hand, his hair tickled you ever so slightly. 

“Cara, amore, Bella, I only have eyes for you and you alone. Maybe I was a bit too playful with that girl and I’m sorry. You know I never want to hurt you…”

You were too prideful to cry in front of him, his apology for some reason didn’t feel sincere. In the back of your mind other incidents similar to tonight kept replaying like a broken record. He wasn’t going to change unless he really wanted you and it hurt to realize it so late in the relationship.

You removed your hand from his grasp, “Vattene via Dami, I want to be alone.”

He called out to you as you continued on into the small bedroom attached to the bathroom; you ignored him as you shut the door.