Michael Gray Peaky Blinders Novels & Stories

"As long as your eyes are still okay, it's not a big deal, right? The doctor said it wouldn't have much of an impact. I just can't bear to see you become blind. Celine had constantly told me how painful a blind person's world was, and I was really starting to lose patience with it." Realizing he might have been too harsh earlier, Cedric softened, trying to soothe me. "I thought you were purposely trying to make me blind," I replied sarcastically, ignoring Cedric's attempts to appease me. I walked with Cedric toward the hill behind the house where we often went for walks. As my vision faded from blurry shapes to complete darkness, I realized the sky had already turned dark. I had no choice bu

Why would a blind man choose something so visual? Unless he remembers. Unless he refuses to let the dark win. I don’t know how long I stand there. Then— “What are you doing here?” The voice slices through the silence. Low. Calm. Controlled. I spin around. Desmond Blackwood stands near the door. My heart nearly stops. I don’t hear it open. I don’t hear him move. He stands tall in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. His white cane, detailed with subtle gold swirls, rests in his left hand. Dark lenses shield his eyes, his expression unreadable.

"I see what you're doing there. Don't even think for a second that you'll be able to escape me that easily." Yvette Macklemore, Yve, a total sweet heart. Your classic black rainbow lollipop, with a bit of sourness: sweet, and feisty - just his type o' gal –light caramel skin, black hair with pink highlights at the sides, 5feet6, who still argues that she's still the tallest of them both. She can be too fucking cheerful, it's nauseating. McCleron made certainty to avoid her in public, with enough fortification to tune her out long enough when they are together.

Not a question. "I don't know what—" "Fire escape." She tapped the glass. "Third rung squeaks. I reported it last month. Maintenance hasn't come." She turned. Sunglasses off. Gray eyes. Clear. Focused. *Seeing me.* "I've been blind for three months, Yan. Cornea transplant. Sixteen years of darkness, and now I see everything." She stepped closer. "Including you. Standing there. Pretending." I stood. "Why?" "Why what?"

It’s in the way the air stills… the way sound folds into silence, and pressure fills your chest like someone is sitting on it. Then I heard that voice. Calm, Smooth only power can afford to be. “Remove it.” Cold fingers pulled the blindfold away, and light stabbed into my eyes so sharply that tears rushed instantly. My lashes fluttered, vision blurring before slowly sharpening. It took me a full second to comprehend what I was seeing. Damien Grayson. Sitting in front of me like a man carved out of midnight calm, composed, dangerous in the way silent oceans are. His legs were casually crossed, one hand resting on the armrest, the other holding a glass he hadn’t even bothered to sip.

With a low groan, he slumped back into his seat. Micheal was handsome with features similar to Easton but in a more manly manner. He was five years older, after all. He also had green eyes and stood at six feet two. He oozed a powerful aura as he turned to face the crowd. His lips curled into a smile, but the smile was nothing friendly. He actually made people even more uncomfortable. “My name is Michael Black," he began, his voice steady and commanding. "And I’m here to set the record straight. Scarlet is no fraud. Everything you’ve heard tonight or any other time is nothing but baseless lies designed to tear her down."

"Can I take off this blindfold, please?" "Yes, you can," Shadrach nodded, taking the blindfold off. Wynter adjusted her eyes to the brightness. Slowly, she removed the blindfold, and her eyes widened in awe. She was right; they were in a garden, but not the one everyone could expect. The indoor garden was a magical oasis. Strings of fairy lights hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden hue over the lush greenery. Each plant seemed to shimmer under the light, their leaves glistening like jewels.

He turned towards us and smiled. “Let's see if you can beat that.” Clarence rolled his eyes. “Bella could hit the red dot with blindfolds on and with her back facing the board.” Ryder looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Then why don't you show us?” I shrugged and took the butterfly knife, turned around, and let Clarence blindfold me. This was one of my first training sessions I had with Uncle Michael. He always told me to concentrate and to use my other senses in case I couldn't see in the dark.

But I regained my composure, as they ran deep into the woods. As we kept marching forward, closely following the warriors' lead, I stole respective glances at Meghan, Kieran, Melinda, and Malik. Malik kept staring off into space, with a stoic expression, on his face. The warriors that were escorting us, might have probably figured out that he is blind, and it might be common knowledge amongst them, because the warrior that stopped the brawl, between Malik and Satoshi, might have spread the news about Malik's disability amongst them. Meghan was visibly exhausted. She was probably fed up with the long walk to the Alpha, but Kieran and Melinda were carried away by the overwhelming sights they w

Verias gave a slow evil smile. “What are we doing?” A low rumbling voice asked from behind them. Making both of them whip around and strike a defensive pose. They spotted Jackson Gray crouched in the high grass. His gold armor glinting amongst the wheat and wildflowers. His blue cloak calmly waving out behind him. Parting the meadow beyond him. His blonde hair shimmering like captured moonlight and his piercing blue eyes set on them disdainfully. The hard expression on his face was a distinct clue to his intention. He looked like death itself had arrived to collect them.