Parallel lines  ....     1921

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James, well, he was fine, or at least that is what he would tell everyone who cared to ask. It was a facade he had perfected over time, masking the storm of emotions raging within him. He would put on a brave face, showing the world only what he wanted them to see. But deep down, behind closed doors, he was drowning in grief.

Anger consumed him at times, an intense fire that burned through his veins. He would clench his fists, seething with frustration, unable to comprehend why life had dealt him such a cruel hand. Sadness would wash over him like a tidal wave, engulfing his thoughts and leaving him gasping for air. In those moments, he would retreat into himself, seeking solace in the darkness of his own mind. Denial became his constant companion, refusing to accept the harsh reality that his heart had been shattered.

The Shelby family, with their own troubles and secrets, remained blissfully unaware of James' internal torment. They were too busy navigating their own treacherous paths, their focus fixed on the intricate web of their criminal empire. Only Polly, with her sharp intuition, caught glimpses of the turmoil that James struggled to hide. One evening, she had stumbled upon him, slumbering in a drunken stupor, an empty bottle of whiskey clutched tightly in his hands. She had seen his pain, his vulnerability, in that moment, and a heavy sense of concern settled within her.

James had worked tirelessly to ascend the ranks within the Shelby family, standing shoulder to shoulder with the formidable Shelby brothers. From an outsider's perspective, he had achieved a certain level of success, but within himself, he felt hollow, incomplete. The loss of Rosalie, the woman he vowed to love, had left a void in his heart that seemed impossible to fill. It felt as if someone had ripped out his very soul, replacing it with a mechanical engine that simply kept him functioning, void of true warmth and happiness.

Blood stains his hands, reminders of the violent world he had become so accustomed to.

The weight of guilt had become a harrowing friend, knowing that he had spilled blood in the name of the Shelby family's reputation and power. But now, the blood on his hands felt heavier than ever before, tinged with the sorrow that consumed him. When the sun set and darkness shrouded the world, his tears would flow freely, a release for the anguish he carried within.

Nearly two years had passed since Rosalie's absence, but James remained trapped in a state of limbo, unable to move past the pain that clung to him like a relentless shadow. The memories of her, their precious moments together, haunted his thoughts, eliciting a deep ache in his chest. Each morning, as he woke from fitful sleep, he would momentarily forget, briefly tricking himself into believing that he would find her soft curls resting against his chest or surprise her with fresh bread like she so adored. But reality would come crashing down, each time sharper and more unforgiving.

James existed in a state of uncertainty, unable to determine Rosalie's fate. The whispers and rumors that reached his ears painted conflicting pictures — she could have moved on, found peace in the arms of a posh bastard  in America, living a life of comfort and luxury.

Or, grim as it seemed, she may have met deaths hands, her once vibrant spirit reduced to decaying flesh buried in the earth, withered away as worms claimed her remains. The uncertainty gnawed at him, feeding his desperation for closure.

Polly and Thomas, more than anyone else, told James that Rosalie was dead. Their words were like cold knives, slicing through his fragile thread of hope with cruel precision. With each passing day, their certainty seeped into his consciousness, slowly but surely wearing down the fragile defenses he had built. He had started to lean towards the conclusion they painted, as painful as it was to admit. The idea of Rosalie's death, as devastating as it might be, at least offered him a twisted semblance of closure. It was easier to believe that she had moved on to another existence, far removed from the chaos that claimed him.

And so, as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, James found himself slowly succumbing to the belief that Rosalie was truly gone, buried beneath the weight of their shared history. The void she left behind could never be filled, and he was left with only memories and unanswered questions.

"Oi! Jamesy-boy we need you in the den" John called out, his eyes casted down.

All the family felt the affects of Rosalies absence. Finn still moaned about missing her, even gave up on school. Johns eyes were sunken, his charisma was duller and very daughter that had been brought into the world since her departure bared her name after their own.

Arthur drank more, and his occasional indulgence in cocaine had become more frequent. Polly cried at night, everyone knew but no one brought it up.

Thomas was cold, colder than before. He rarely spoke and if he did it was harsh and abrasive.

Connie had bouquets named after her, they were beautiful and expensive. A fresh one sat in James' home every week.

Billy acted sad, but everyone saw through him. He moved up in the Shelby gang but never close enough.

He talked about Rosie as if he knew her, really knew her but he was wrong.

"I'll be right there John" James sighed, leaning back in his chair.

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Rosalie held her head high as she wondered around the already busy warehouse. Men and women filled the cold area, creating weapons.

They were to be concealed and sent off in a car that the buyers would send back with whoever delivered them. No one except the workers knew of who owned the company, and Rosalie intended to keep it that way for as long as possible.

There were five people in her upper circle. Alfie Solomon's, of course. Ruth smith, she was an older woman in charge of the books and she reminded Rosalie of Polly ( which the girl couldn't choose if that was a good or bad thing ).

Next was Joseph mercy, he was a nice lad who overlooked the packing and shipping of the guns. He knew how much was coming in and who it was going out to. The man knew how to work a gun, which came in handy.

Maisie Wright was a fire cracker. She was all over the place but always knew when the right time it was to pour Rosalie a drink. She was the temptress, she distracted the men who tried to fuck over Rosalies business so that Casper Long could get in.

Casper was someone who stood by Rosalie, and never let a hand touch her. He and Joseph would do the dirty work and Rosalie would be the last face any back stabbing bastard would see.

"Oi! Rosie-girl we need you in the back room" Maisie called out, her beautiful smile beaming as her head popped out from the door frame.

Rosie chuckled, "I'll be right there, Maisie" the girl nodded, pushing her hair from her face and nodding at passer-by workers.

"Hello my darlings, what has caused this meeting so abruptly?" Rosalie asked, walking around the table to sit at the large chair at the end of it.

"Nothin' good, love" Ruth spoke quietly, her mind simmering as she prepared to calm Rosalie.

Rosalie looked around the room before her eyes stood still on Joseph. "Well joey?" She asked, pulling a cigarette from her box and placing it between her lips.

The room stood in silence.

He cleared his throat, "we've got an order from Birmingham, small heath to be exact."

Rosalie paused, smoothly she brought the match to her lips and inhaled the nicotine with grace.

"I assume they want it delivered to the door?" Rosalie asked with certainty.

Casper nodded, "You'd be correct."

Rosalie shook her head, "lazy bastards" she scoffed, "so who's name is it under?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ruth spoke up, "Billy treasure."

Rosalie looked down at the table, and stood up. "Looks like we're going on a trip! Pack light well be quick"

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"Alright boys!" Thomas began before Polly and Esme gave him a pointed look. "And women, we have a new and upcoming business in London. We don't know the man who's running it, he's hidden — using his children workers as his forefront but Billy here" Thomas paused to clap him on his shoulders, "graciously let us use his name to order some of their stock. Either we make a friend of this man or we take him down" Thomas explained to the room.

"How old are these children, Thomas?" Polly asked, disgust written on her face.

"Around eighteen" Arthur spoke up.

James cleared his throat and sat up, "What are they selling?" He asked.

"Guns James, guns. They're using cars as a front, our Ada heard whispers of it round the streets and she sent a telegraph" Thomas nodded, standing at the top of the room with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

"When's the order due?" Arthur asked, rubbing his nose and taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Nine tonight at the cut, I want Arthur John, Billy and James to join me and a few other blinders. I don't know how many men they'll have or if they'll try do us over" Thomas spoke to the group, his eyes scanning for reactions.

"Billy will go to collect the stock, and us boys will hide."

The boys nodded, and soon departed from the room.

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Maisie stood at the front of the car. Her eyeliner smudged around her eyes and her dress was hiked up to her thigh showing off the lace on her stockings.

The whiskey bottle hung in her hand as she swayed back and forth waiting for them.

"Camden motors?" Billy asked, walking from the deep shadows as he drew his cigarette from his mouth.

"Yeah, you alright doll?" Maisie asked with a smirk.

Billy's eyes trailed her body and stilled on her thighs for a moment before resting on her face. "Yeah, order for Billy treasure."

"I'll need the money first" Maisie spoke carefully, calmly walking towards him with a sway in her hips.

Billy nodded, handing over the cash.

Rosalie smirked — he never was smart. Ablinder was crouching in front of her. Picking up a discarded metal pole, she swung it towards his head.

He let out a yell as he fell against his back. Rosalie's heel stood on his chest swiftly refusing his movement.

The man's face wore a look of fear.

"Your a new one" She stated tauntingly, coming closer to his face she pulled the delicate pin from her hair.

"Say hi to Tommy for me" she spat with a sickening smile as she billed the blade against his lips and up his cheeks.

Their smiles now mimicked each other.

She could hear Casper and Joseph fighting other blinders, and they'd win — Rosalie knew that.

Pulling up her skirt, she grasped the gun that was tucked against her thigh and held it high as she came out from behind a large wall.

"Alright Billy boy?" She called, her gun aimed high.

The man spun around to look at her, his face ghostly white.

"Your dead." He muttered, stepping back as he stumbled slightly.

"Not in a literal sense, no... but you will be" Rosalie smiled, her finger resting on the trigger comfortably.

Billy put his hands up, and shook his head. "Don't do this Rosie, just come home and we'll forget all about this" he pleaded.

Casper and Joseph stumbled from the shadows with bloodied knuckles and smirks painting their faces.

"Oh but I am home, mr treasure. See these lot—" she paused, pointing her gun at the three teenagers before falling back on Billy. "Where ever these lot are, I am home" she shook her head with a laugh. "Because home doesn't betray ye'. Home doesn't get you fucking shot or sent away!" She yelled out, smiling like a mad woman.

Breathing shallowly, Rosalie regained herself before her face turned to stone.

"Save me a seat down there, I don't plan on just killing you once" Rosalie smiled, before clasping down on the trigger.

Multiple shots rang out and Billy fell to the floor as blood pooled on his shirt.

"Get in the car" Rosalie ordered.

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After hearing the shots and regaining themselves — Thomas,Arthur, John and James ran to the edge of the cut.

Billy treasure laid on the ground with blood pooling around him. The gravel had tire marks and the money was gone.

"Fuck!" Thomas yelled out.

John ran to Billy, "alright mate, just hang in there yeah?" The man muttered, pulling his jacket off and pressing down on the wounds.

"It was her John..." Billy spluttered.

"It was who?" John questioned, looking at the three men stood around them.

"It was Rosalie."

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RIN SPEAKS.

Dun din dunnnnn

Phew, well hello there