just imagine it

lil messages like this truly make my day… actually scratch that they make my entire year !!

Well hi *I wave sheepishly from behind the computer screen*

Let me start by saying I am so so sorry that the conclusion of this story took so long - I have barely been writing for a really long time. 

But this story and doing it justice has always been in the back of my mind, and I finally got myself to finish it for all of you who have been so loyal and patient.

Here is the final Chapter of You Used To Love Me.

All my love, I hope you enjoy x 

Besides the obvious shock at seeing him at such a fucking inopportune time, his presence sends an immediate chill down my spine. 

I have to physically close my eyes to try and rid my mind of the thoughts and flashbacks to the other night, when he kissed me. When we kissed each other. 

The room collectively falls silent. No one tries to stutter over their words. No one tries to save the moment with some excuse. Just pure silence. All of us processing what has just unfolded. That is until Gina finally speaks. 

“Well, I guess the gig is up” she says, almost laughing. 

I don’t even look at her. My eyes are just glued to Michael. I watch his face contort into 100 different shades of confusion. 

When no one else speaks, when nothing is elaborated, he looks back and forth between all of us, searching desperately for an answer. 

“Izzy?” He says my name, his tone just begging me for an answer. 

“This isn’t on her…” Gina begins, standing up slowly from the floor and straightening her dress “I’m pregnant, Michael” 

And just like that, the bomb is dropped. But that’s not even the worst of it. My heart aches inside my chest, knowing that it’s about to get so much worse for Michael. 

I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow the air in the room grows heavier. 

My whole body tenses at I wait to see Michael’s reaction. 

He doesn’t know it’s not his yet. 

He runs his eyes over her, covering his mouth in shock when he finally notices the small baby bump just beginning to show through her dress. 

“Oh my god” he runs a hand through his hair, his hands trembling.

He doesn’t speak, he just shakes his head in disbelief. No excitement. No joy at the thought of having his own child. And that says it all. He isn’t happy. This is not the life he wanted for himself. 

Part of me want’s to tell him about Gina’s infidelity. To tell him that he is not having a child. That he is not going to be stuck raising a child with a woman he doesn’t love. But before I can even find the words, his head stops shaking and his brows furrow. Like a lightbulb switched on in his mind. Like something clicked. It’s like I can see him mind doing back flips as he realises that something doesn’t add up. 

He looks back up at Gina, who is chewing at her bottom lip nervously. She is also waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Like she said, Michael is smart. It won’t be long before it dawns on him, and I know she does not want that moment to unfold before all of us, here in this room. 

“I would like a moment alone with my husband” Gina says quickly, as she looks over at Polly and I. She knows Michael is starting to catch on to what he knows deep down inside. This is not his baby. 

I take her queue to leave immediately, reaching for Polly’s hand. “Come on Pol, let’s go make some tea yeah?” I say, locking eyes with her and nodding towards the doorway. 

Polly’s catches on, and she takes my hand as we both make our way out of the room. As we exit I quickly glance back over my shoulder to find Michael looking at me gravely, before Gina closes the door behind us.

Polly and I walk downstairs and into the kitchen in complete silence. I start making tea, but Polly touches my arm.

“This is not a time for tea… I’ll get the whisky”

I nod. I’m like a soldier with shell shock. I can barely speak. I can barely move as I lower my body stiffly into a chair at the dining table. 

I’m straining with all my might to hear the conversation going on upstairs between Gina and Michael, but it’s eerily quiet. 

I know what she is telling him now is being said in hushed voices. 

Polly slides a hefty glass of Whiskey in my direction, and tasting the bitter drink is the only thing that brings me out of my frozen trance. 

“Michael’s not going to be a father” she says out of the blue, with her face all knowing, as though she has read the room and understands the situation. 

“No” I affirm her suspicions, although she already knows without me needing to “No he’s not” 

“One day” Polly responds, holding eye contact with me.

I’ve always known Polly has senses. Everyone in the Shelby family knows. Hell, everyone in fucking town knows. She see’s things. Feels them. She know’s Michael will one day be a father. I’m not psychic and even I knew that. He has a way with children. He’s wonderful with them. And in this moment, I know exactly who she thinks he will be having children with. I know what she’s insinuating. 

I almost jump straight out of my seat when I few minutes later, I hear footsteps coming down the staircase. 

I quickly sink the rest of my whiskey, as Gina and Michael enter the dining room. 

“I’m taking Gina to the hospital, I’ll be back later. Tell Tommy we have to reschedule our meeting to another day” 

Michael is holding his cap in his hands, gripping it so tight that his knuckles have gone white. But they’re not as white as his face. I can’t tell if he looks like he’s seen a ghost, or if he is the ghost. 

Gina looks down at the floor, then up at the ceiling. Basically anywhere but at our faces. 

Polly nods, knowing that now is not the time to have words with either of them. I’m actually impressed with how civil she is being towards Gina in this moment. In light of the severity of the situation. 

Michael ushers Gina out the front door, and moments later the cars wheels turn on the gravel and make their way out of the street. 

Polly and I sit in silence, drinking for a little bit longer, until everything catches up with me. The whiskey, the sleeplessness, the bomb that was just dropped. 

Without saying much, Polly and I hug goodbye. She holds on a little longer than usual, and before we depart she gives me a knowing smile. 

I know what she’s thinking. I know she can tell something happened between Michael and I.

But I can’t let my brain run off with the possibilities. I don’t know what is going to happen between us. 

Even with Gina now possibly out of the picture, there’s a lot that has gone on between Michael and I. I still carry the pain, nursing it in my arms every day since he left for America, and came back with another woman. I don’t know what he could ever say to fix that.

And then there’s the possibility that he stays with her, despite the news. Which might just send me over the edge. Truly into a place of no return.

I wander the streets in the short walk back to my apartment, where I pour myself another drink when I arrive. 

I don’t know why, but I sit by the window. Waiting, I guess. Hoping that he might show up. Maybe even part of me is hoping that he doesn’t. But still, I can’t pull myself away. 

I have so many errands, so many jobs to do. But I can’t move on. I spend the rest of the day worrying about him. Picturing him at the hospital, sitting by Gina’s bedside. Supporting her on what might be the worst day of this life thus far. I picture his face when he found out she was pregnant. The horror and fear that he was trying to disguise. 

He didn’t have the glow of someone who just found out their wife is having a baby. 

By the time night falls, and dusk gives way, I have bitten my nails down to the quick without even noticing. 

Feeling horrid and heavy with anxiety, I decide to drag my sleep deprived body into the shower. It’s a peaceful moment, and I start to feel like I could finally settle into bed when someone knocks at my door as I’m getting changed into my night gown.

I catch myself in the mirror for a moment, willing myself to be strong, because I already know who it is standing at my door without even having to open it. 

As I make my way to my visitor, I run over 100 speeches that I have planned in my head. But once I grab that handle and pull it open, the chatter in my head falls silent. 

Michael Grey. 

He stands in the door way, a look of relief washing over his face as though he didn’t think I would actually answer him. 

Of course I would. 

He opens his mouth to speak, inhaling deeply, but the words never follow. With this much history between two people, it’s impossible to know where to begin.

He looks like he’s been to hell and back. 

“Sorry” he stammers, snapping himself out of his trance “Your door was unlocked, but I didn’t want to just walk in-”

“It’s always been unlocked” I breathe, knowing that I’ve kept a lot of parts of me unlocked, incase there was a moment where Michael Grey decided to wander back in. Just like he has right now. 

He nods, understanding what I meant immediately.

“Can I come in?” He begins “I can go if you want, I just…”

He looks so small in this moment. He’s the most timid and sheepish I have ever seen him.

“Of course” I nod, stepping aside to let him in.

We move about my apartment in silence, as we both take a seat at my dining table. When he does, he places his elbows on the table and rests his head in his hands. 

Without even needing to ask, I pour us both a drink.

“I figured if I need one of these you probably do too”

I looks up at me gratefully as I place the glass in front of him and he takes a swig. 

“How is she?” I ask, nervous to actually address the situation at hand. But I know there’s no way around it. We’re not going to talk about the fucking weather. 

“They’re uh, they’re going to keep her overnight until she’s got her hydration back”

There’s silence for a moment before he continues, and he looks as if he’s not able to believe what he’s about to say.  

“Then she’s going home”

My heart jumps and skips over a few beats, making me feel unsteady as I realise what he just said.

Gina is leaving. 

“We’re done” he says, and I suddenly take note of the fact that he’s not wearing his wedding ring. 

“Michael I’m sorry-” I begin, but falter when it comes to finishing my sentence.

I am sorry. But the truth is that I’m fucking relieved. Relieved for Michael. Relieved for myself. Relieved that I don’t have to watch him raise a child with someone else right in front of my eyes when it was supposed to be me. 

“It’s okay” he nods “Her and I we weren’t… I didn’t love her Izzy” 

I knew this whole time. I want to scream it from the rooftops. I want to scream it at him. I want to ask what possessed him to act that way for so long. 

I want to ask him who he loves. I want to ask him if it’s still me. 

“It still hurts though” I say instead, trying to keep my wits about me. And that is the truth. He is still in pain. 

“Yeah well I had that coming didn’t I” he almost laughs to himself, shaking his head. 

He looks up at me, bearing himself. He knows what he did was wrong. And he knows as far as karma goes, he was now getting his. 

“I’ve done so many things wrong… Everything got so out of control Iz” I notice his knee is bouncing rapidly beneath the table. 

I hold my breath, so much so that I begin to feel light headed and my chest begins to burn.

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to” he says once he notices my speechlessness, “I just owe you an explanation. I owe you that much” 

I nod, giving him the go ahead. The green light of redemption. 

We’re on the edge of the moment. The moment I’ve been waiting for for months. 

“You know I don’t even know why you let me in, you’re always so kind, so good. Too fucking good. After everything” 

His chest rises and falls beneath his shirt and vest, growing faster with every second as he gets himself more and more worked up over the train wreck of his life. 

“You know I can’t get the look on your face out of my head, from the day that you saw me and Gina. The day I came back and told you to leave me alone. It fucking haunts me Izzy. Because I didn’t want it. But when you’re in too deep…” He shakes his head, as his words just keep pouring out frantically “I thought it was the only way… the only way to deal with what I had done. I couldn’t even look at Gina. I couldn’t even touch her. So I thought if I forgot about you, that I could move on”

“Did you?” Are the only words I can utter, as the lump in my throat swells, almost cutting off my voice completely. 

“Never. Fucking never” 

I had built this moment up in my head for so long. 

What I would say to him. 

How I would teach him a lesson. 

How I would show him what he had done to me. 

That he can’t get away with doing that to a person.

I had rehearsed how I would make him get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness.

Make him explain himself until he was blue in the face.

Until I was satisfied. 

I wait for that feeling to come, the rage, but it never does.

Instead, I stay silent as he takes a deep breath to steady himself. His eyes are welling up, threatening to spill over as he continues to explain.

“I lost my way over there. I was losing my fucking mind without you. I got drunk, Gina was forceful. One thing led to another and I woke up next to her one morning. Then I couldn’t get rid of her. I was doing business with her family, and it’s like she saw something she wanted and would stop at nothing to get it. That’s when I stopped contact with you… I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. To face what I had done”

The first tear falls onto his freckled cheeks, but he wipes it quickly. 

“I was going to cut her off before I came back home, but she threatened that she would cut off the deal between Shelby Limited and her Uncles if I left her. She threatened fucking horrible things to the people I loved Izzy, you have no idea” His voice is panicked as he recalls every last detail, and I can see the flashbacks taking their toll on him. 

“Her family and her people, they’re something we’ve never dealt with before…She begged me to let her come with me. I was in way over my fucking head. And so I had to pretend. I didn’t want her to sink her claws into you too. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I didn’t want you involved. So I had to pretend like I fucking hated you when all I wanted was to come crawling home to you”

By now, one tear had led to another, and he was no longer wiping them away. His eyes red, his cheeks drowning. 

Unable to keep swallowing the lump in my own throat, I abandon all control over my own emotions, and my own eyes spill over with tears. 

“You could have told me” my voice scrapes out of my throat “You could have told me what was happening”

He shakes his head “I wanted to protect you, and I had to break you in order to do that. And I’m so fucking sorry” 

The feeling comes again, where I’m certain I should be screaming at him right now. Cursing him for everything he put me through. 

But I can’t. After all this time, after everything. I just can’t. 

I still love him. 

My small, shaking hand glides across the top of the dining table, and lays gently over the top of his. 

Of course it did. We’re like magnets, him and I. We’ve never been able to keep away from each other. 

My touch has an immediate effect on him, as his breathing begins to calm.

But in an unexpected turn, he holds my hand and brings it up to his lips. His eyes close as he places a kiss on the back of my hand, and then another one on the soft, sensitive skin of my inner wrist. 

This is something we used to do all the time, and right now, it’s like he doesn’t realise what he’s doing. Muscle memory takes over. 

“You’re fucking stupid Michael Grey” I sniffle “I should hate you. I should fucking hate you” 

“Do you?” He asks, still holding onto my hand like it’s his only lifeline. 

I stare back at him for a moment, before I feel my head start to shake in response.

“Never” 

I feel a pull on my arm, as I realise he’s pulling my closer to him. 

And I don’t resist. 

Our bodies creep closer, slowly then all at once as we collide. His arms wrap around me fiercely, engulfing me. My arms wrap around his torso, and I make no mistakes about holding him tight. 

It’s almost crushing, suffocating, the way we are clinging onto one another. 

I can’t breathe, or cry, or laugh. I can’t move. And I don’t want to. 

His hand holds the back of my head, and I bury it into the crook of his neck. 

“I’m so sorry” he apologises, his voice muffled as his face presses into my skin “I’m so fucking sorry” 

I could have stayed like that forever, but he pulls back holding my face in his hands as he looks down at me.

“I love you” he begins, his breath tickling my face “I don’t know if that’s okay with you, but I still love you. Izzy. I never stopped” 

I look up at him, our breaths slowing and steadying, until we’re breathing in synchronicity. 

“I still love you the same as the day I met you” I shake my head, but I can feel the smallest of smiles begin to creep onto my lips “I love you Michael” 

“Yeah?” He asks one more time, as if he doesn’t believe it yet. 

“Yes, you fucking idiot” I exhale a laugh, unable to stop the smile now “I love you”

He beams back down at me, his head lowering until his lips meet mine. 

He’s slow, this time. Unsure. Gentle. As if this moment might fall away and escape him if he makes one wrong move. 

But I can’t hold back any longer. 

I kiss him back, pressing my body even harder against his, which I hadn’t thought was possible. 

I expect a ravenous kiss to follow, for clothes to start falling off our bodies and to gravitate our way towards my bedroom.

But after he returns a tender kiss, he pulls away. 

“Wait” he breathes

“You okay?” I pant, biting down on my lip. 

“Can we wait…” he whispers nervously “I don’t want you to think this is all I want. I just want to talk to you. Stay up all night talking like we used to. God I missed you so much”

My chest warms up, as I realise he really means it. That he doesn’t want me to get the wrong impression. That he missed my body, but more than that, he missed me. 

“Of course” I coo “I would like that” 

He presses his lips to mine one last time, then plants a few soft kisses across my nose and cheeks. Just like he used to. 

We lead each other to the bedroom, and flop down next to each other, taking in the days events. And how the hell we ended up here. 

It doesn’t take long for the conversation to start, as we turn to face each other. 

He caresses my face the whole time, stroking my cheek with his thumb gently. 

It’s all so familiar, and right now in our little bubble, it’s like no time has passed between us at all. Like no hearts were ever broken. 

We talk for hours, neither of us ever feeling tired for a moment. We laugh, getting carried away and wrapped up in each others. Sometimes we cry. He apologises more times than I can keep count. We hold each other. Sometimes I want to ask him to pinch me, to make sure I’m not still concussed from earlier in the week and imagining all of this. That I’m not going to wake up and realise it wasn’t real. That he won’t be taken away from me again. 

We talk about how things used to be.

We talk about the future.

Eventually at some point in the early hours of the morning, once our voices are tired and we can’t keep our eyes open any longer, we fall asleep. 

When I wake, I’m alone, but next to me I can see the indent of where Michael had been next to me the night before.

My heart starts to race as I become more aware.

He’s left. He’s gone again. 

I’m almost carried away into a full panic attack, when something snaps me out of it. The sound of the radio coming from somewhere in the house.

Wondering if someone is here, or if I just left it on, I wrap myself in a robe and make my way into the heart of my apartment. 

And there he is. 

Fixing up breakfast, still in his clothes from the night before. Humming along to the radio. 

He doesn’t even realise I’m there for a few moments, and I’m glad I have some time to process this all to myself.

I had thought I’d never see this scene again. Maybe in my memories, but never in real life. 

Michael, in my kitchen, making us breakfast on a cold morning. 

My chest floods with warmth.

I didn’t realise how I felt like I had been holding my breath up until this moment, and how now I can finally exhale. 

“Morning” he greets me when I he catches me standing there out of the corner of his eye “Sorry, I just thought I’d make you some breakfast, or at least coffee” 

“Thank you” I smile, as I force myself to hurry up and adjust to the moment. 

“You still like your eggs the same?”

“Absolutely” I smile, endeared by him asking. 

He holds out a hand, and I take it, as he reels me in towards his body. 

“If this is too much just tell me” he says softly, checking in with where I’m at right now “Is this okay?” 

I can tell he’s still unsure. Unsure of whether I’m going to tell him to leave. To get out. That the mistakes are unforgivable and that we can never get it back. 

But the truth, that I can feel in my core, is that what we had never really left. 

I run a hand through his hair, and he closes his eyes briefly, taking in the sensation. 

“I think so” I nod, and he perks up, his eyes look hopeful and bright again “I thought you had left” I admit, revealing why I looked so startled just now.

“No chance” he shakes his head “I’m here. I’m yours”

And I believe him.

It’s a pivotal moment.

Standing on the edge and letting yourself jump. 

I know it will take time. And I know he will work every day to prove it to me. 

But I choose to trust him.

In whatever way that means right now.

I am his.

I always have been. And I always will.

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@baker151910

CHAPTER 3

Here’s what I’ve learned in the 3 weeks that I’ve been working for the Shelby Family.

John is my closest friend in Small Heath. He warmed up to me the fastest, and I swear sometimes I have to remind myself that he’s not my actual brother. He laughs with me and tries his best to not make me feel like a complete outsider in Shelby Limited.

Arthur is a massive softie. He is by far the roughest looking of the Shelby boys, but he has the softest heart. He drinks a lot, sometimes too much, and I always know to look for the signs that its time to start watering down his Vodka’s with water. He’s usually too drunk to notice. Sometimes he stays so late that I walk him most of the way home just to be sure he doesn’t get himself into any trouble. 

Polly, the most fierce and strong woman I have ever met, took a little longer to warm up to me. But one day when she caught me making sure Arthur got home safely, and invited me in fora cup of tea. Since then, she has been insisting that I start joining them occasionally for dinner. I’ve been declining because of one person.

That is Thomas Shelby.

Where do I start. If Thomas Shelby wants something, everyone around him will jump to make it happen. He instills fear wherever he goes. I’ve never known him to smile or laugh like the others do. He drinks a lot, I’m always bringing him a fresh glass to their private room in the Garrison, but he doesn’t lose his head like Arthur does. Tommy has a tight grip on everyone and everything, including himself. 

On my rounds, making sure that everyone has been taken care of during their family meetings, he refuses to join in on any jokes and playful moments that I have with the others. In fact, when he sees me getting closer with the Shelby’s, his face grows even more sour. If that’s even possible. 

And those eyes. He stares. A lot. Not longingly. Not anything. Just a thousand mile stare, straight through to my core. As much as I try to ignore that he’s there, I can always feel his eyes on me. Like I’m being watched. My every move being picked apart and analysed in his mind. 

Today was different. Initially it was the same old. Bring them drinks, laugh with the boys, try to help them pick which horses are going to win in their races. And pretend that Tommy doesn’t despise every second of it. 

After rushing around for an hour tending to the lunch time rush, I realise their drinks must be getting low. 

“Alright boys, this rounds on the house” I joke as I walk into their private room. For the Shelby’s everything is on the house. Suits. Guns. Drugs. Drinks. Women. 

“These drinks will be on you if I lose this bet Z” John teases back, listening to the radio intently to find out whether the Horse I told him to bet on has one its races. 

“And I’ve never lost one yet have I!” I retort, topping up his Whisky and setting down a plate of bread and butter for them to snack on. Something to soak up all the alcohol. 

I dare to glance over at Tommy, who unsurprisingly is already watching me with an extra disapproving look. 

“Can I get you another drink Tommy?” I ask, pretending to not notice the daggers he’s shooting my way.

He nods in response, and I pour him a whiskey “I could make you that drink from a few weeks back…” I offer, trying my luck. Maybe today he will entertain me. 

“Can I see you outside?” He snaps suddenly, and I swallow hard.

Fuck. 

The last few weeks have felt like I was walking on a fine line with Tommy. I have proved myself time and time again. But he still despises the air that I breathe. Maybe I was getting too comfortable with the boys. Maybe he thinks I’m trying to manipulate and trick them all. God knows what he thinks I’m doing. Whatever it is, he doesn’t like it. 

I follow him out of the room and into a quiet area of the Pub. 

Without any warning, or lead up, he turns to me and looks me dead in the eye. “I know the boys like you. Trust you even. But I do not” 

The words hit me like a freight train. 

I knew he seemed different today. Like he was extra disgusted with everyone and everything. These words, he had been sitting on for a while. Keeping them inside as he watched me and scrutinised my every move for weeks. I could tell by the venom that he said them with. 

I want to fight back.

I want to remind him of everything I’ve been doing for this place. The business I’ve been bringing in. The countless times I’ve looked out for Arthur and his alcoholic tendencies. Making sure he got home safe. And that no one took advantage of a drunken Shelby brother. The business I’ve heard them discussing that I’ve turned a blind eye to. That I’ve never uttered a word of to anyone. The things I’ve heard and seen, that have slowly been revealed to me about Shelby Limited that I’ve never questioned. 

But instead I draw in a deep breath.

“Okay Tommy” I sigh. My brain goes back and forth frantically as I decide to let go of what I’ve been holding onto for weeks. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take. Or what I have to do. And to be honest I don’t care anymore. If you never trust me, then so be it. But you don’t have to be so cruel. I’m just here to pour the beer, remember?”

“Then how about you just stick to doing that, hey?” He spits back.

“I feel for you Tommy” I narrow my eyes, staring him down the same way he has been doing to me for weeks. 

“You don’t know me” 

“I’ve tried. But you won’t let me. And I’m starting to think I don’t want to anymore” I shake my head “But I see you. I’ve been watching you too, Tommy. You want to know what I see? I see a man who has everything, and a man who has nothing. You have everything and nothing”

He freezes. And there it is. The first time I’ve seen something in his eyes besides hatred. It’s still shrouded. Still unclear. But it’s something. Like he’s been exposed. Cut open. Like someone just dared to say the first real thing he has heard in a very long time. Someone made him feel. 

“But hey, I’ll get back to pouring the beer, shall I?” I finish, brushing past him to continue serving customers. 

I start taking orders and pouring drinks with a racing heart and trembling hands. I couldn’t believe what had just come out of my mouth. I don’t know everything about the Shelby’s, but I’ve seen and heard enough to know that people who speak to them like that do not last very long in Small Heath. 

I dare to take a quick glance at him, to find him still frozen in place. Staring at the spot I had just been standing. As if he’s still reliving the moment. Reliving what I had said. 

Fuck. 

I expect him to turn around and fire me on the spot. Maybe even part of me hoped he would, so I wouldn’t have to face the wrath that I know is coming after I dared to peak back to Thomas Shelby. If I thought he hated me already, I could only imagine the hell he would rain down on me after that. I was prepared for him to make my life a living hell. 

Your fanfic is the first I ever read

Wil you continue writting You used to love me?

Hiiii !!

I am definitely planning of finishing that project, it has a special place in my heart x

KEEPER OF MY HEART - CHAPTER 2

Well… I survived.

Actually, more than that. I feel at home already. 

I glance over at the clock as the last of the men stumble their way out of the pub. I smile to myself as I hear them singing and laughing with each other, all the way down the street. Happy customers. 

I poured the beer. I made sure there were no fights. Nothing was damaged or broken. I made chatted with the men and women, making them laugh as I tried to make sure I left my best impression on them. Incase the Shelby’s wanted to ask around about what people thought of me. 

I felt like I had found my feet after only one night, but the relief doesn’t last long.

I know I haven’t gotten the job yet. In fact, the Shelby’s could walk in here right now and thank me for my time before sending me on my way. I try to push the thought of homelessness or having to clean peoples houses for a living out of my mind as I count up the last of the till. This is all I know. This is what I’m good at. I need this job.

I sweep and mop the floors, and wipe down all the surfaces, making sure everything is neat and tidy. 

A peace of my heart has fallen in love with the Garrison already. 

Earlier in the night, John Shelby and some of the younger Shelby boys and their friends had stopped in for drinks. It was Saturday night after all. The boys were hitting the town. They had their own private room, and I made sure they were tended to like kings. I was fast and discreet, remembering their orders and topping them up with fresh glasses any time they ran out before they even had to ask. 

My only reassurance, is when John pulled me aside just before 11pm.

“Zoe, right?” He had asked me, as he joined me behind the bar and started helping me pour beers during a busy rush. 

“You’re good at this, you know, like really good” He had smiled at me “Tommy told me to stop by-“

“To make sure I hadn’t burned the place down yet?” I joke, earning a laugh. 

“I’m putting in a good word for you, I just want you to know that” he touches my shoulder reassuringly “Maybe it’s that I’m younger, more with the times than the others, but I think you would be good for the place. Bring some life back in here”

I smile at him warmly, turning my attention away from the beers I was pouring to make sure I have him my full presence. Him doing me this favour means more to me than he could imagine. Everything is riding on this. Ever since I gave up my fathers pub, I’ve felt so lost. Just one night at the Garrison and I feel like I’m back in my element. More than needing money, I think I need this job for my sanity. 

“So you’re the softie of the Shelby’s huh?” I grin, handing him a beer “That means a lot to me John. Thank you” I add sincerely. 

“See you tomorrow then hey” he smiles back, heading back to the others. 

I knew from that moment that John and I would be friends. Similar in age. And he had looked out for me when the rest were ready to dismiss me at first glance. He even reminded me of my own brother. 

Smiling to myself at the thought of the exchange with John, I head over to the front doors to lock them and close up for the night. 

Right as I reach up to close the latch at the top of the door, it suddenly swings open. 

And there he is. Thomas Shelby. 

I take a few steps backwards, moving out of his way. 

Like earlier in the day, he looks me up and down before giving me a firm nod. I guess that was his way of greeting me. So much for “hello”. 

He brushes past me, and begins to make a lap around the empty Pub. It takes me a few seconds to realise he’s examining the place. Checking that nothing is out of order. I clasp my hands behind my back, wringing them tightly. I don’t want him to see my nerves. 

“The till is balanced, place is clean, everyone is gone and safe and everything is prepped for tomorrow” I inform him, but he barely even notices. Despite my reassurance, he makes his way behind the bar to check that the money is all in order. 

“I didn’t steal anything, before you ask” I say, slightly offended that he won’t take my word that I can manage the pub. 

He counts the money in silence, and takes one last look around the Pub before finally turning to me. 

When his eyes meet mine, they’re just as piercing as they were 12 hours ago when we first met. Something about them makes you stand still, frozen. They are crystal clear blue, but it is still impossible to read him. To know what is about to come out of his mouth. 

“Good. You didn’t burn the place down”

Seriously.

Any nerves I had fall away, as I am overcome with frustration. That is all he has to say to me? Is he embarrassed that I proved him wrong?

“Thank you is generally the word that people go with” I retort.

“Thank you” he replies condescendingly, almost mocking me. 

I sigh. I expected a lot of things. But I didn’t expect him to literally send me on my way without even giving me a fair chance. 

“What’s it going to take?” I ask, exasperated. I’m tired. I’ve just worked all night. I’m beyond entertaining this man any longer “Just tell me what I have to do?”

But he doesn’t speak. Of course he doesn’t. He just studies me. It’s like I can see his brain ticking. 

Until I get an idea.

“You know what. Sit down. I’m making you a drink” 

“No,” he interrupts her immediately “I have to go and-“

“Come on,” I cut him off, with nothing left to lose “Appease me” 

He takes a deep breathing, looking up to the ceiling as if he’s trying to gather patience “Fine. One drink” 

I burst into a wide grin, feeling like I have a chance again. With a spring in my step, I make my way around the bar, concocting the same drink I used to make for my father. 

When I place it down in front of him, he examines it, a disapproving look on his face. 

“Oh come on I didn’t poison it”

“Not funny” he shakes his head, before bringing it to his lips hesitantly. 

He takes a sip. And another. And another. 

I got him.

He finishes the drink, and I smirk, waiting for him to admit that it was good. 

“Okay so you can make a drink” I dismisses me, unimpressed. 

This man is something else. I can’t pick him. 

“Alright” I shake my head, giving up “Just tell me what you’re thinking”

He pauses “I don’t know if I trust you”

“I’m not asking to run your business” I reassure him “I’m asking to pour beer so I can afford somewhere to live”

“Well I don’t know anything about you” he retorts “I need to know who I’m letting into this family”

“You haven’t asked me anything” 

He opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again. He knows I’m right. 

“You’ve only jumped to conclusions about me. So go on, what do you want to know? I’m an open book” 

He shakes his head, taking less time in between replying now. Like I’ve gotten him fired up and his normally carefully crafted responses are getting hastier. 

“I don’t want to know your favourite colour, I want to know that you don’t have ulterior motives” He reveals. 

“I do” I reply shortly “Who doesn’t?”

He glares at me.

“I want to live in the country. I want to save my money and buy a place. I want to live comfortably. I want to work and be treated like an equal. This may come as a shock to you, but I have no idea who you are and who your family is. I moved here one week ago. The only jobs going are for nanny’s and maids. I saw the ad. I put my name down because I’m good at this. And I don’t want to clean someone’s house for a living. So there…” I pause, letting my words sink “Not everyone has sinister motives you know”

And for the first time, he’s looking at me like he’s actually listening. Like he doesn’t have anything else to say. I search his face, trying to find some kind of indication. Did I go too far? Did I cross a line? 

“And it’s purple” I add, trying to lighten the mood “My favourite colour is purple”

And all of a sudden, he laughs. Okay, maybe it was more of a scoff. But it is the most emotion I’ve seen on his face all day. 

He shakes is head at me, like he’s astonished that I won’t give up. 

“Lot’s of business goes down here. You do not utter a word of it to anyone” He says seriously, his face turning grave and serious. 

“I get paid to listen, not to talk” I nod.

He nods back, and then, he holds a hand out. 

Oh my god. He’s offering me the job.

I quickly take his hand, shaking it firmly to try and show confidence. 

With that, he heads back towards the doors that he came in.

“See you tomorrow, Boss” I call out to him, unable to contain my excitement.

KEEPER OF MY HEART - CHAPTER ONE

I take a deep breath, clutching the job advertisement in my hands.

INNKEEPER NEEDED.

ENQUIRE WITH SHELBY LIMITED. 

I’m new to Small Heath, Birmingham. I’ve only been here a week and I’m desperate for a job. Although I have years of experience keeping my families Pub, I know not many establishments wants a woman as the face of their business. 

I roll my shoulders back, straightening my posture to stand as tall as I possibly can at a mere 5 ft 3. Trying to assert myself in a display of confidence. God knows I’m going to need it.

I force myself forward, pushing the heavy doors open, entering into the Garrison. 

The smell hits me straight away. Cigarette smoke and whiskey. 

It’s weirdly familiar and comforting. 

There is no one at the bar, just a group of men sitting in the middle around a table. Laughing, drinking and smoking.

These must be the Shelby brothers. 

I waits for them to turn to look at me, to address my entrance into the room. To begin the interview. But they don’t.

That is until one of the younger men notices me, and nudges the tall and slim man next to him.

And just like that, all of the men slowly turn their attention towards me. 

I try to ignore their unimpressed gazes. Their eyes looking me up and down judgementally. I give a tight lipped smile, feeling as though a theatre spotlight has just been shone on me. Now is not the time to back down. 

“I’m here for the job interview” 

By the look on their faces, you would have sworn I had spoken in a foreign language. 

Confusion, amusement, prejudice. 

The tall, slim member of the Shelby family speaks first, after what felt like hours of painful silence. 

“I think you’re in the wrong building sweetheart” he says, trying to be nice but unsuccessfully hiding a smirk. 

I knew to expect this. 

I pause before speaking, as I catch the eyes of one of the Shelby’s sitting at the back of the group. He puffs on his cigarette, smoke shrouding his sharp features. Our eyes lock in on one another. How could they not. They’re piercing through the dimly lit building. It takes a lot to make me feel small, but his gaze alone makes me want to shrink. 

I try to offer him a smile, but he doesn’t return it. He just grazes his eyes over me, thinking god knows what. 

I try to shake off the interaction, turning back to the brother at the front.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m in the right building, Mr Shelby” 

“Well unless you’re… Z Jones…” he says, referring back to the list of applicants on the table beside him, then looking back up to me doubtfully. 

“Yes, thats me” 

“You’re Z Jones?”

“Yes, Zoe Jones”

“Well fuck me” he laughs, entertained and dumbfounded “Z for Zoe Jones” 

I feel a sense of relief. He hasn’t completely kicked me out of the building. And my tactic of not revealing my full name on the application worked. Now I at least have my foot in the door. 

I tempt a quick look at the brother in the back, and he still sits unwavering. Not amused in the slightest like the other men. He hasn’t so much as moved or said a word. He just studies me. 

“And you are aware of the job you have applied for?” The tall brother questions, his amusement morphing into concern.

“Innkeeper, Matron of the bar, Bartender” I list of all the names that this job falls under “I am well aware of the role I will be taking on”

“How old are you sweetheart?” He questions. I knew my age would be in question. But I already have years of experience. 

“Old enough to pour a beer” I retort, smirking. There’s not one question they can throw at me that I haven’t heard before. 

One of the younger brothers smiles, beaming up at me. “I like her Arthur” He tells the eldest brother. So that’s Arthur. The eldest Shelby brother. 

“Shut up John” The older brother nudges his younger brother, who I now know as John. 

But his smile doesn’t fade, in fact, he gives me an encouraging nod. Like he’s rooting for me. 

“Alright I’ll level with you, darling. The kind of crowd we get here is not… they’re not just your usual crowd of singing drunks. We need someone that can handle the money, as well as the fellas that come in here. I don’t doubt that you can pour a beer, but they’re going to take one look at you and chew you up. We need someone that folks will take seriously” 

I just smile back politely. Nodding at his speech. I feel my hopefulness start to falter, but I won’t show them. If I don’t get this job, I will have no where to go with no way to pay my rent. I need this, and they need me. 

“If I could level with you…” I begin, taking a breath before I continue “I’ve worked my fathers pub since I was 14. When he died I took over. Business died off, so I had to sell. I think I’m more than capable. And I say let them underestimate me. With all due respect, sir, letting them underestimate me has been my greatest strength. I can run the money. I can pour beer. I might not be able to fight with my fists, but I’ve never had to. The mind is where half the battle is. I was smart enough to put my name down as Z because I knew if I put my full name down I wouldn’t even get a foot in the door. And I’m not sure what kind of business you’re running here at Shelby Limited, but I know a lot of places deal in secrets. And you’ll be surprised what people will talk about around a woman. What they say when they think you’re not listening because they think you wouldn’t understand. Let them underestimate me. So… if you could just give me one night?” 

The men stare up at me. If they kick me out, at least I stood my ground. They all look around at each other, trying to come up with an answer. 

“Tommy?” Arthur asks, turning to the Shelby who has been sitting stone faced the entire time. 

Thomas Shelby. 

I had done some asking around before I applied for the job. Everyone had a lot to say about the Shelby brothers. But not many could say anything about Thomas. He was the mysterious brother. The silent assassin. Not the oldest, but the leader of the family. What was said about Thomas was much of the same. He’s deadly. He’s a killer. He’s the puppet master of the entire company. 

I straighten my back, trying not to falter or waver underneath his unforgiving gaze. If there’s anyone I need to convince, it’s him. 

He stands, taking a swig of the drink in his glass before he begins to stalk his way towards me. 

His eyes wander all over me, scaling me up and down. Sizing me up. 

The room has fallen silent. Their eyes darting between Thomas and I. 

“Zoe Jones” he repeats my name, inching closer to me. 

“Thomas Shelby” I address him back, unsure of where the courage to do so came from. 

“If anything goes wrong, you’ll pay the price” His voice is husky as he threatens me. This is what I can only assume everyone in town was talking about when I asked about The Shelby Brothers. 

I swallow, trying to find the right words. 

“Good. I like a challenge. But that won’t be necessary” 

I raise my chin, tilting my head upwards to meet his stern gaze. I won’t back down. It’s not even about the job anymore in this moment. I won’t be made to feel small. I know my worth. 

For the entire 10 minutes that I have known Thomas Shelby, he hasn’t shown one ounce of expression on his face, besides slight disapproval at my presence. But for a second, I swear I can see a hint of interest in his eyes when I spoke back. He didn’t expect me to push back when he descended on me with his intense, heaviness. 

“One night” he says finally “Tonight” 

I nod, smiling up at him. 

hi my lovelies 💖

I am so thrilled that you’re all excited for the next chapters from my Michael Gray and Tyler Rake Series’! I can feel your anticipation through the screen!

Don’t fret! They are coming!

At the moment my family and I are going through some pretty heavy stuff, which has really rocked my boat (I’m talkin titanic hitting that iceberg level boat rocking).

Writing has always been my outlet- but at the moment so much is going on I am admittedly struggling.

All I am asking is for extra time to finish them, and for your patience.

I don’t usually ask these kinds of things because I never want to come off ungrateful - in fact it’s quite the opposite, I am over whelmed this gratitude every day!

I can’t wait until I start to get back into my groove, and put these chapters out into the world for you to get your hands on and sink your teeth into.

I love and appreciate you all, endlessly.

A/N: here you go lovelies! Thank you so much for the support and love as always and I hope you guys enjoy this one.... don’t kill me and try to survive the bomb shells heheh ;) 

love always xx

I glance over at the clock to find that it’s 5am as the sun begins to creep in through the gaps in my curtains, obnoxiously reminding me that I haven’t slept one wink. I have, however, played last nights events on a continuous loop and nearly given myself several panic attacks. That doesn’t leave much room for resting. And the impending dread of knowing that every minute that passes by is another minute closer to Charlie returning home and me having to look him in the eye also doesn’t really inspire one to sleep either.

I have grown all too familiar with the feeling of being cheated on. Of being abandoned. Lied to. Rejected. Of having your self esteem ripped from you and the rug pulled from under your feet. The questioning yourself. Your relationship. If it was ever real. I know it all. But the feeling of being the person who has done the cheating is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I don’t know if understanding this has me feeling sympathetic for Michael or hating him even more.  

But how could I hate him? Now I am just like him. I am no better. And I am certainly in no position to. Michael may have kissed me, but I kissed him back.

Then the most dreaded thought that I have been trying to push down and keep at bay for hours on end finally creeps it’s way to the fore front of my mind. Loud and obnoxious and shrouding me in shame and disgust.

Maybe I feel so horrible because part of me know’s that I don’t regret it. I don’t regret it at all.

That thought alone makes my skin crawl at the thought that I am that kind of person that I cannot physically lay here anymore. Giving up completely I haul myself out of bed and storm to the kitchen to busy myself with a coffee. Not that I need it. I’ve got enough adrenaline and cortisol pumping through my body that I won’t need caffeine for a week.

My hands shake as I try to fix myself breakfast. I desperately want to wash away the taste of Michael on my lips, but I can’t get anything down. I’m far to wound up. I give up on trying to stomach anything when my mouth and throat are so dry from anxiety that I can barely swallow.

So I just pace my apartment instead. Changing my outfit twice, cleaning the same furniture over and over again. Re arranging the flowers in their vases. My skin clammy and cold. On my laps of my apartment I can’t stop myself from passing by the window every few minutes. Holding my breath every single time in dread that I will see Charlie’s car down there and I will have to face it. I can’t even go in the lounge room, let alone look at it. Every time I catch a glimpse, see it in peripheral vision I swear to god I can Michael and I there. It all comes flooding back. Every time I close my eyes, even so much as blinking brings it all back. Like it’s etched inside my eyelids and I can’t get away from it. I can’t even stand the way my clothes cling to my skin, hugging my hips and curves, the same way Michael did. I can even feel his hands up in my hair and on my face.

I must have actually been successful at distracting myself, cleaning my kitchen for what feels like the 5th time today. Because I don’t even hear Charlie’s car pull up in the street, I have no clue he’s home until I heard my apartment door unlocking and opening.

The sound makes me practically jump out of my skin and I can’t wipe the stunned ‘looks like I’ve just seen a ghost’ look of my face as he walks in, brief cases in hand and beaming smile. I physically feel the blood drain from my face.

“Surprise!” He holds his arms out, grinning at me as he drops his bags and walked over to me.

“You’re back early” is all I manage to get out as he pulls me into his embrace.

“Don’t sound too excited” he chuckles, picking up on my complete lack of enthusiasm. I can’t blame him, I’m not doing the best job at hiding it.

“Sorry I just-“ I fumble for the right words “I guess I’m still just in shock from yesterday”

“Right, the deal” he begins, nodding “I thought so. That’s why I came back early”

Yeah… the deal… To be honest that was the last thing on my mind. I think I was referring to the shock from almost being killed and Michael kissing me. Let alone the fact that Charlie wants me to move three hours away with him onto the list.

“I was thinking about it and I realised I kind of sprung that on you” he bites his lip sheepishly “ I know I freaked you out on the phone, I mean moving three hours away is a big ask and I know we’ve only been together for a month Izzy but-“

I swallow hard. If only that was all I was worried about. Worrying about moving three hours away. That would have been so goddamn simple. Suddenly feeling faint I try to step back from him, reaching out for the kitchen counter to steady myself.

“Hey, hey” he runs his hands up my arms before they finally land on my face, holding me gently “I’m sorry, you don’t have to pack right now, we have time to talk about this”

He continues talking, but as I stare up at him it all drowns out into the background. All I can see and all I can feel is Michael. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong. But even Charlie’s hands on my face take me back to last night. His face so close to mine. His breath on my face. As each moment passes my skin crawls, hot and prickling like needles poking at me all over. I can feel myself trying to smile and nod at him, but I just can’t. The memories of last night race across my mind as my heart pounds in my chest. I can feel my chest rising and falling faster and faster until I’m all but hyperventilating.

I can’t take this. I can’t do it. I just want to scream.

“I can’t do this” I blurt out in a harsh exhale as I finally break. Finally snapping. I can’t take this anymore. I take his hands in mine and pull them away from my face as I tear myself from him, backing away to the other side of the kitchen.

He stares at me, wide and in shock as I run my hands through my hair, trying to steady my heart rate.

This is it. I can’t hide from this anymore.

This is so cute and fun okay here we go

1. I have tattoos 🌛✨

2. I am a tea addict, I don’t do coffee ever!☕️☕️