Settling down on the doorstep, the girl looked around the street she had found after hours of searching for it. She didn't quite know how she had managed to get herself as lost as she had done. She had thought that she was in the right area of Birmingham, but after a quick laugh from a copper she realised she was wrong. She would have hailed for a cab, but she knew that it was pointless. She had left her purse behind at the manor along with everything else she owned. She knew that it was pointless to go back and find it.

It had been a long time since she had seen the street she now sat on. She had banged on the door for what seemed like hours of the terraced house, but no one answered and she remained seated on the step, her dirtied skirts flowing over her knees as she bowed her head and waited with patience. The sun was slowly setting and a sharp chill was in the air.

Looking up as she pushed a hand through her hair, she glanced down the street as a roar of laughter left The Garrison Pub. Closing her eyes, she knew that they would be in there. More importantly she knew that he would be in there. Allowing her throat to clench at the mere thought, she placed a hand over her mouth to stop herself from openly sobbing. Her mind had been running wild with her as she contemplated what he would say to her.

Would he confirm her brother's beliefs? Would he tell her that she had been nothing but a pawn in his game? Would he go so far as to laugh at her and discard her to the side? Just thinking about that caused her to retch.

She longed for clean air, but she knew that Birmingham had none of that. Smoke filled the streets and its resident's lungs. After spending a moment trying to control her breathing, she looked back to The Garrison and considered going there to speak to him. It would stop her from worrying.

Standing up, she moved one step and froze. She could go no further. She didn't want to walk into that pub. She didn't want everyone's eyes to be settled on her as she struggled to find the words to say to the leader of the Peaky Blinders. More importantly, she was scared of being tossed aside by him. She had never been humiliated in public before and she didn't want that to start now.

She allowed her brown curls to fall from the loose bun they sat in as she pushed a hand through her hair and leant against the wall, her eyes closing tightly and beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She knew that she could always run and beg her brother for forgiveness. She could fall to her knees and promise him that she would never make a fool of him again. She would never disgrace their name again. No doubt he would find a way to make her life a living hell, but he would allow her a room.

Yet she couldn't help but think that would let him win, and she was tired of him winning. She was fed up with seeing him never suffering. For once she wanted to be away from him. She wanted this.

It was only as that thought ran through her mind did the doors to the pub swing open, slamming against the door behind them as the force caused them to recoil. Standing up straight, she reached down to the skirt of her dress and tried to flatten the blue material against her shaking thighs. She squinted into the distance as a group of three men and a woman left the pub.

She knew each of them, but they had never looked at her as though she was anything but dirt. She recalled a time, before the war, when they had regarded her as someone to be considered an ally. But that was before everything happened.

Struggling to keep her eyes dry, she looked to the man in the middle. His head was bent as he struggled to light a cigarette in the soft breeze of the evening. His cap covered his features as he finally lit the cigarette. He took a swift puff from it and allowed it to drop down by his side as he looked up, a smug grin on his face as he moved down and away from the pub. His blue eyes looked up and before she knew it they were staring straight at her.

She tried to hold his gaze as he advanced towards her, moving ahead of his family as he went. The remaining three slowed their pace, their gaze narrowing and turning scrutinising.

"What is the Kimber whore doing here?" John demanded.

She had been expecting harsh words from them. She had often heard their blunt tones and she had tried to ignore them, but they seemed to hurt her all of a sudden. Everything that had happened was a mess and she refused to be considered a whore because of it.

"Enough, John," Aunt Pol declared.

Pol looked at the girl with wonder, knowing a defeated woman when she saw one. The Lord only knew that plenty of women in Birmingham were suffering due to their circumstances. Her harsh gaze didn't soften, but it did grow with intensity as she watched the girl have her arm gripped by Tommy.

"John has a point," Arthur declared, shrugging his shoulders and moving his hands through his hair. "What does she want? She's done nothin' but bring trouble to this family."

"And?" Aunt Pol demanded. "I am certain that Tommy knows what he is doing, isn't that right, Tommy?"

Turning his head over his shoulder as his hand remained on the small girl, he looked to Aunt Pol. Her questioning stare had turned to him as she waited for him to give her the answer she desired. Gulping, Tommy nodded and hid his emotions from the rest of his family.

"Aye," Tommy said. "Go inside. I'll speak with Liz."

"Alone?" Arthur checked as Tommy moved his stare back to Liz. "And you don't think the bitch will do anythin' to hurt you?"

She was still refusing to look at Tommy as the man shook his head. He knew that she would do nothing.

"She might be a Kimber, but she ain't a killer," he told his family. "Now, inside."

Aunt Pol led the way, demanding for the rest of the boys to follow her. They went with haste then, grunting as they did so. It was only when the door closed shut did Liz allow herself to look up to Tommy, unable to hide the tears falling down her face and staining her pale skin.

"Now," Tommy spoke calmly, "what is it, Liz?"

A sharp breath moved through Liz as she watched Tommy take another drag of his cigarette. "He knows," she spoke.

Tommy sighed. He should have known that he would find out sooner or later. He had only hope that it would be later and after Black Star Day. He wouldn't be a problem then and Liz wouldn't have to live with him anymore. Shaking his head, Tommy dropped his cigarette to the ground and exhaled the last breath of smoke.

"And?" Tommy wondered.

Liz had grown used to this version of Tommy. She had grown used to his coldness and his detachment from her. But she had also seen another side, especially before the war.

"And he threatened you," Liz spoke.

Moving his hand outwards, Tommy didn't hesitate as he took hold of Liz's cheek in his hand, admiring the handy work of Kimber. His thumb roamed over the bruise which would no doubt form there.

"Seems he hit you too, aye," Tommy declared, an arched brow framing his face as he did so. Liz looked down to the ground and Tommy sighed, knowing what this now meant. Kimber would come for him sooner than he had anticipated. "Elizabeth Kimber, you might just be the death of me yet."

….

A/N: Just a quick prologue before the main action of the story. Do let me know what you think!