Grace Death Peaky Blinders Novels & Stories

Grace sighed and relaxed until the next voices had come along. “I am so sorry I could not protect you, My Love!" Xan had whispered. “It is not your fault Xan, you need to stop beating yourself up! You look like shit and we need to think about going home soon” Denug said. Grace suddenly panicked, Xan was leaving and she needed to wake up! She needed to tell him... "Tell him what?" A voice boomed and suddenly there was a blinding light. Grace found herself standing on top of a cliff overlooking a sea arch. The sky was blue, the sun shone brightly and there was a gentle wind. A perfect summer’s day!

She watched in dull silence as Ricky lifted the phone in his hand, showing her a picture of Grace smiling. "Grace died last night. Suicide they think." Ricky shrugged. "I ain't gonna pretend like she was a good person because she's dead." "No," Jess muttered. "Oh no."

It’s been a month since Grace’s death and it was the day of her funeral. Her death had come as a shock to everyone, including Jamie. It had been more shocking and unbelievable for him as he’d been with the woman the morning before she died. Yet, no one knew. It was only him, Sylvia and her personal bodyguard, Henry that were aware of the meeting but Henry had also lost his life in the accident that claimed her life.

I decided I needed to be more careful around him "I didn't want to do this, hell I gave you two chances to prove me wrong but unfortunately, it has come to this" Lucas injured the acid in Grace's arm making her scream in pain, He sat on the couch next to me as we watched her scream in pain "Won't someone hear her?" I asked, "The basement is sound proff" he replied. Grace's death was a gluesome painful experience, I vomited three times while Lucas just sat there without any expression. She finally died her body turning a shade of dark purple,

Liam was strumming a guitar, playing something quiet and folk-like. And Grace. Grace was nineteen. She was the youngest, the surprise, the miracle born after the war was supposedly over. She stood up. She was wearing a simple white dress, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She held a glass of sparkling water. "One more toast," Grace said. Her voice was soft, but it carried the same quiet authority that Aria had developed over decades. "We're out of cider," Theo noted sleepily from his chair. "I don't need cider," Grace said. "I just need you to listen."

looking helpless as he lost the only thing that made him a god: his land. "You look like you're staring at a funeral," Silas rumbled, standing by the window. His silhouette appeared massive against the grey sky. "I am," I whispered. My voice was a dry rasp, like a dead leaf when crushed. "I'm watching the burial of the Crescent Alpha. I just didn't expect the scene to look so... boring, and ordinary…" My cough broke the silence, a deep, racking tremor that made my ribs feel like they were being snapped back one by one. I pressed a tissue to my mouth that quickly soaked in a dark, thick crimson. I didn't panic; that was for people who still had a future.

Zade pleaded and his eyes twinkled with some fresh tears. “I don't read my books backwards, Mr. Meadows,” Grace said with a blank face. There was no trace of softness in her face and her eyes were cold too. The door opened with a ding and Grace walked away stepping on the crushed rose. This time Zade felt like she had stepped on his heart and walked away. He closed his eyes and pulled himself together to go on.

I shifted back, falling to my knees beside him, the weight of loss crushing me even as rage burned brighter within me. Then came a scream, sharp and heart-wrenching. I turned, and there was Grace, mid-shift, running toward us, her eyes wide with horror as she took in the sight of Dylan’s lifeless body. She fell to her knees beside him, her hands reaching out in desperation, clutching at his blood-soaked form. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed, her body shaking with grief. She was inconsolable, her cries tearing through the battlefield, a sound that pierced deeper than any weapon.

After thanking the girl, we make out way towards the Alpha’s office but as we draw closer, I catch the unmistakable stench of death. I grasp Max’s wrist, “Smell that?” He has a grim look on his face, “Stay behind me.” As we approach, I see a foot sticking out a thigh shrub. Max has not even parted the shrub when I recognise the scent and tears fill my eyes, “Grace!” “And Jacklyn,” Max says, his voice hard. “Her scent is also here. She must have intercepted Grace.” He shakes his head, “She’s dead. Been dead for half an hour now.”