If Sullivan Miller had to love something more than she loved alcohol, it was waking up with the sun. She didn't see it very much since she moved to Birmingham, but every occasion she had to see it was blessed.

However, that morning, the sun wasn't the only thing to wake her up. Though the second thing was way less gently than the sun.

"Good morning, whatever that weight on my mattress is," she greeted softly, closing her eyes again when an arm was wrapped around her waist.

"I'm glad you're calm enough not to panic when someone is laying in your bed, when you're not even looking who it is," Thomas laughed, kissing her temple.

"Yeah, whatever, drama queen," Sullivan retorted, adjusting herself in his embrace.

"You're slower than usual," the male noticed, and facing the lack of reaction, he snorted behind her. "Are you hungover or something?"

"How was London?" she asked back, trying to change the topic.

"I asked first," he argued.

"Gosh, you know me too well," the blonde grunted, turning around and hiding her face in Tommy's chest, blonde curls falling on her shoulders. "I might've drank a little too much with Pol yesterday, and we possibly did it in your office because it's the nicest place around here. My voice's deeper than yours now."

"Why did you do that?" he exclaimed, looking down at her. "I can't leave you alone for a day or two because you two always find a bloody way to do something I asked you not to do."

Sullivan rolled her eyes, her head lifting to Thomas's annoyed one. "Oh come on," she exclaimed, straightening up a little, "you think working at the shop 24/7 is amusing to us? Jesus, I have more headaches than drinks."

Tommy chuckled, leaning forward to kiss her forehead again. "Alright, I told you I'm doing my best with your real job. And, if you like my office that much, maybe you should work with me." Sullivan raised a confused eyebrow, motioning for him to carry on. "I'm looking for a secretary."

"Wait, you're expecting me to answer your phone calls, receive your letters and stuff?" she asked, almost disgusted.

"That's basically what a secretary's doing," Tommy confirmed, frowning slightly. "You sure you're not still drunk?"

"I'm not an idiot, thank you," she responded with an eye roll. "These tasks suck, honestly. But on the other hand, I'll work in your office, and that matters." She pursed her lips as she thought about it for a second. "I'll consider this, but for now, speak of London."

Tommy rolled his eyes as she slid back under her warm covers, spreading her hair around her head. "Look, you even brought the sun!" she exclaimed, motioning for the window near the bed. "Talk, or I'll ask Arthur."

"Fine, God you're worse than usual," he affirmed, tickling her ribs playfully. "We had to beat up some asses, but nothing too serious."

"I don't believe you," she stated, her voice soft. "If Arthur's medicine threw away is anything to go by, I'll assume you put yourself in trouble again."

"How the fuck do you even know that?"

"When did you come back, darlin'?" she demanded, raising a blond eyebrow. "Arthur can't shut up when he's around me, you should know that by now."

"We came yesterday evening, very late."

"Listen," she ordered as she straightened up for good, ignoring the ache in her head as she did so, caressing his cheek. "You're free to do whatever you want and think whatever you want, but to me, Arthur's medicine was important to him."

"Come on," Thomas argued, sighing deeply, "it's clearly a delusion. It's not real."

Sullivan ran a hand through his jet-black hair before she was standing up, opening the window to let fresh air enter the bedroom. She hummed, closing her eyes as she stretched her body, appreciating the sun on her skin when she heard Tom gasp behind her. "What?"

"What happened to your hip?" he asked as she looked down, rising up the large shirt that was covering her body, and gasped too when she spotted a large bruise on her hip.

"I can't believe it," she exclaimed, sighing loudly. "I don't know if I like your office that much, after all," she added, glaring at Tommy while she turned on her heels, walking to her closet to find something to wear.

"How did you do that?" he asked as she shrugged, grabbing a dress and holding it in front of herself to watch it better.

"Probably bumped into something, I don't remember," she answered, walking to close the window. "I'm about to get dressed, so I won't get late for the shop, would you mind wait for me in the kitchen? I won't be long," she promised and watched him as he retreated out, closing the door behind him. 

When she rushed down the stairs five minutes later, Thomas was leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed on his chest. "What's up, thinker?" she asked as she kissed his cheek, grabbing something to eat behind him.

"You're such a clumsy," he commented.

Sullivan rolled her eyes, scoffing at his words. "Stop it right now, making my life real hard y'know." Tommy scoffed, leaning to kiss her lips softly. "I have to warn you before you'll step in your office, that it may be a mess."

Thomas laughed against her lips, grinning fondly when he straightened up, sliding his hands in his pockets. "I'll hold you responsible if it's a mess," he stated.

"Maybe you'll hire me to clean it up then," she suggested, tapping her fingertips against the counter on her left, swallowing a mouthful of bread.

"You'd better watch in what you're bumping," he submitted, putting a strand of her hair behind her ear. "We don't want to break a bone, do we?" Sullivan smacked his hand away from her, laughing sarcastically while Thomas just stayed here, crossing his arms over his chest with a playful smile.

As soon as they stepped into the shop, she found herself sighing loudly, walking under Tommy's careful eyes until she reached for John in the middle of the room. "John," she greeted with a bored expression.

"What's the matter with you, eh?" John asked as she sat by his side, raising an eyebrow at him. "Oh, you're still mourning about your job," he guessed.

Sullivan groaned, hiding her face behind her hands. "I'm hungover, for fuck's sake," she explained. "But I still hate this job."

John laughed, letting go of the conversation. The day passed in a blur though, since the alcohol her body didn't already remove was eliminating itself during the day. Her headache went worse through the day, so as soon as she finished work, she charged John to tell Tommy she was going home.

Once she was there, she immediately went to sleep, collapsing with her bed fondly, already enjoying the warm covers and comfortable mattress. She closed her eyes and drowned into sleep in two minutes.

This time, it wasn't either Tommy's arms nor the sun that woke her up, but loud bangs against her front door. Sullivan, deep down, knew it wasn't Tommy, because Thomas Shelby's fashion was more coming inside without asking anything, but she rushed down anyway, opening the door without even looking.

That was her mistake.

When she didn't recognize any of the men's faces, she immediately realized her mistake and tried to close her door, but they were quicker than her. One of them placed his foot in the doorway, stopping her from closing anything on their faces. "Ain't you happy to see your new friends?" he spoke, his large stature entering inside of the house.

"Who are you?" she asked, now feeling fully awake. The man pushed her further into her home, and for the second time since she moved into Birmingham, she felt her intimacy being violated. However, she didn't mention it out loud, knowing better than to mess with whoever these men were.

"Who's asking questions here?" the big man retorted, motioning for other men to grab her arms. They did and she hated herself not to fight them, but she wasn't feeling like it would change something. Not until she didn't know who they were, or who sent them. She needed information before she could make a move. Whatever this move had to be.

"Alright," she muttered, trying to move her hands but couldn't. They were holding tight.

"Do you know a certain Shelby?" he demanded. Of course, she was tempted to lie. But again, she knew better. Asking was nothing but a formality, they already knew.

"Maybe," she instead vaguely answered.

"Don't try that maybe shit on me," the man ordered, hoarse voice startling her as he stepped in front of her loudly. He grabbed her chin in his palm, tightening his grip a second after he was sure to hold her. "We're bigger than you gypsies think you are."

"You should watch your mouth," she spoke, no very surprised by her response though. She wasn't good at hiding disgust nor her contempt. The man smirked as if he wasn't expecting anything else from her, and before she had time to apologize, he slapped her strongly. She bit her lip to stop the groan of pain from escaping her throat, but the heat on her right cheek was betraying her.

"You should watch your mouth, little girl," he advised, and she bit her lower lip again. She didn't want to spill another word that could endanger her again.

"May I, now that we're done with formalities, know who the fuck you are?" The men chuckled, the ones that were holding her hands, tightening their grip even more.

"You know the Shelbys," the guy resumed, "so you probably know they were in London lately. They messed with the wrong people, and we people can't let that happen." Sullivan cursed in her head. Tommy must've forgot to tell her something, and that something was happening to her, now.

"Who sent you?" she demanded again, her tone low.

"You'll discover when the time comes," the man proudly answered. Suddenly, she was brought on her knees by the people holding her, while her head was picking up the pieces. Of course, he had to mess with that kind of people. He wasn't ever getting enough of what he had. "But now, your time's out, princess."

"You know what they did to us?" a man on her right spoke.

"Listen, I -" she tried to speak, but the man in front of her slapped her again, this time harder. She moaned, feeling her lips beginning to bleed.

"No, we're not listening to you, bitch," he angrily cut off, grabbing a fistful of her blonde hair to maintain eye contact with her. "You'd better listen to us, or else we'll have to punish you, again."

"This is why they sent you, right?" she guessed, her voice breaking. "To send a message," she added.

"But you're not the message," he scoffed, hitting her forehead against the corner of her table. "You're just our toy until it's time for us to bring you to the message."

Sullivan didn't know what to say. She was sure of something, it wasn't her they were truly torturing. And the only idea that was crossing her mind about the tortured person wasn't pleasant. At all.

"Please," she pleaded as another man appeared on her right, cracking his knuckles.

"What are pleading for? You ain't seen the best yet," he affirmed, grabbing her neck and holding it tighter and tighter.

She could remember the exact same scene, here in Birmingham or somewhere lost in Wisconsin. She could remember the feeling crossing her chest the times it had happened to her; the same feeling that was crossing her body right now. Fear.

She promised herself she would never feel fear again. She had faced Billy Kimber, a copper had sneaked into her house to hurt her, but still, she could feel the fear running through her veins. She was feeling sick about that.

"Are you afraid yet?" the man mocked, letting go of her neck. She choked a few times, trying to catch her breath, waiting for him to speak again. "I told you, you haven't seen anything yet. Bring her to the car, we're expected."

She stood up, escorted by the two guys, whom of which was more dragging her when they had passed the front door. "Don't try anything stupid, love," the man on her left whispered in her ear, sending awful shivers down her spine. "It'd been such a waste to kill a beautiful woman like you," he added, to disgust her even more.

She didn't reply, trying to resist the men, but when they pulled her into their car, she stopped fighting. Or whatever she was trying to do.

During the trip, she was told to shut the fuck up each time she opened her mouth to breathe; even when the car was pulled in front of a hangar, she was told to shut up, and once her feet were touching a solid ground again, the strong man for before sighed, stepping in front of her.

"I have to tell, this isn't what I would do if this mess was only mine," he stated, motioning for his men to hold her hands again. "But I'm not the boss," he added, raising his hand in the air. She inhaled deeply, trying to prepare herself to the next blow, which landed on her cheek hardly, his fist connecting with the side of her nose as he hit her. Sully roared, rage finally growing in her chest.

"Fuck you!" she screamed, her legs kicking ahead of her to reach for his knee or something, but only made him laugh.

"Finally, you're reacting!" he exclaimed, while his men started to drag her inside of the hangar.

"Get your bloody hands off me you bastards!" she screamed, all parts of her body trying to collapse with something that could hurt one of the men. They giggled, holding her tightly as they walked further into the hangar. She carried on yelling at them to let her go, which they didn't. Until her eyes caught the message in front of her.

It seemed like he spotted her the same time she had noticed him. She was bleeding, but it was an understatement to say he was bleeding too; his face was only blood now. She stopped screaming the second she met his gaze, well what had been left, instead she felt tears in her eyes.

"I told you you would like it," the man whispered in her ear. She snapped her head towards him, giving him her best glare, before looking back to her lover. She should've known, but she hadn't.

"Aren't they sweet?" a man's voice asked, making both of them look away from each other. "Their last reunion," he added, approaching the blonde with his hand outstretched in her direction.

"Don't touch me," she ordered, avoiding ungracefully his hand. "Let him go," she then asked.

"No, that doesn't work like that honey," the man argued, and he didn't let her time to answer because he was speaking again. "You should have known who to mess with or not to," he told to Thomas.

"Let him go," she pleaded again, kicking her legs towards the man. He turned around, glaring at her before he eyed one of his men behind her.

"I told you so, whore," the man spoke, stepping in front of her. He slapped her again, strongly enough to have her unconscious for a few seconds, her eyes drifting to the ceiling. When she came to her senses again, the man was looking at her. Suddenly, she remembered his name. Sabini. It had been mentioned in the car. That was it.

"I'm giving the orders here," he spoke, his deep voice strong. "We were waiting for you, by the way. We needed you to watch and learn."

"What?" she asked, confusion clear on her face. "What are you talking about?"

"Your man here needs to learn his lesson," Sabini explained, smirking in a horrible way. "Don't have to say my name," he added while turning on his heels, motioning for another guy to handle Tommy's issue. As soon as she saw the strange thing the man was holding in his hand, she closed her eyes, cowardly escaping from reality.

"Oh no," the guy on her left spoke in her ear, "you're going to open those fucking eyes of yours, so you'll show and tell," he affirmed. "Well, tell if we're letting you your precious tongue." Some of them chuckled while Sabini approached her, holding her face in Thomas's direction to watch him suffer.

"Please," she begged, ashamed to do this, tears running down her cheeks. The worst part being Sabini asking for the gold tooth in Tommy's mouth, making him roar in pain when it was taken away from his mouth.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't cry," Sabini soothed, his thumbs rubbing her tears away.

"Let him go," she pleaded again, and when his hand still ghosted against her skin, she gritted her teeth hard. "Don't fucking touch me," she repeated, her voice breaking.

"I'll do whatever I want unless you want him to be beaten up again," the man exclaimed, grabbing her cheeks in his hands, tightening his grip. "Jesus, who do you Shelbys think you are?"

Some men chuckled again as he released her face, turning on his heels to walk towards Thomas. "You see how much I know about you? I even know what's in your fucking mouth. Look at me. Look at me!" Sabini ordered, Tommy struggling to keep his eyes open. "Look at me. You take up with the Jews. Yeah, you think that's what London's all about. You can just come down, pick a side. You fucking clown! Now your life is over. My face is the last thing you'll ever see on earth."

She saw a man exiting a gun from somewhere, pointing in on her man. Suddenly, she decided she needed to do something. She had fought for this, she had fought for them, she couldn't just let go when it was hard. She had to fight, again, more. "Let him go," she asked again, for the last time. Sabini turned to her, exasperation clear on his face. She held her head higher, and she recognized herself in Sabini's eyes when he approached her again. "Let him go, I'll come with you, or take his place, for that matter. I don't fucking care what you'll do with me as long as he's free."

Sabini scoffed, running his hand on his face. "You're starting to annoy me, really."

"I have contacts, I'm good at business," Sullivan affirmed. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, whatever."

"Sullivan," Thomas spoke, the warning clear in his voice.

"Ain't that a man's name? You're not from here, aren't you?"

"America," she answered truthfully, and the hold the men were holding on her weakened a bit. "It's true, I can be useful."

"No, you can't," Sabini sighed. "Women don't understand the thing with loyalty, and I won't let someone like you run a part of my business. American or whatever you are, you're still with them Gypsies. Tommy Shelby here has to learn, and you too." Then, he turned around, his eyes scanning her lover's face. "Your mistake. You remember that when you get to hell. Finish him off."

She felt all the air she was holding within her lungs get out when she heard a loud noise. But it wasn't a gun being fired, more like an explosion. The cops had saved their lives. As soon as the men understood what was happening, they released the couple, Tom's body collapsing awkwardly with the floor while Sully fell on her knees. She didn't try to process what had just happened, crawling towards Tommy's body.

"You won't die," she affirmed in a hushed voice, afraid to touch him and caused him some pain. Instead, she just looked down at him, praying all the Gods that he wouldn't die. "Don't you dare die on me, you hear me?" she repeated, running her hand through his dark hair.

"What do we have here?" a voice she would've recognized everywhere spoke behind her.

"Help him," she whispered, looking up to Campbell's form. Even from where she was kneeling on the floor, she could see his devilish smirk.

"Beg a little more," the man asked, mocking the blonde's distress.

"I'll do whatever you want," she affirmed. "Help him," she pleaded again, sobbing loudly.

"What are you waiting for?" Campbell asked an officer behind him. Sullivan sniffled as she look down at Tommy's unconscious body, her hand sliding gently into his. "Don't you see this man needs help?" The cop nodded quickly, rushing towards someone else. With that said, Campbell crouched on Sullivan's side, smiling widely to her. "It looks like you do owe me one, now, young lady." 

I swear one day I'll correct all the mistakes in that bloody book