Red Right Hand Peaky Blinders Novels & Stories

I folded, coughing so hard my stomach cramped. Someone grabbed my face and I flinched violently, the world tilting as I was forced upright and the blindfold ripped off. Light burned my eyes and I winced, blinking hard through the blur. Everything doubled. My vision was shit without glasses—smears of shadows and color. But one thing stood out. A man. Massive. Buzzed hair. Covered in ink. Crouching low in front of me, studying me like I was meat on a slab. His fingers dug into my chin and tilted my head to the side.

Ruin We’re all seated in the living room of the pack house, watching Ryker pacing the floor. He’s just returned from Vegas and filled us in on what happened. The shapeshifter who looked like me had no intention of speaking, but after Fenriz used his Alpha Sight on him, Fenriz could see everything. Alpha Sight is when True Alphas embed their claws into the base of a person’s skull to see their hidden memories. Fenriz found this out when he was having fun with the shifter, who looked like me.

Percy laughed and shrugged before he sipped on his wine. My brows furrowed at him as I observed the way he eats. I blinked multiple times when my vision got blurry. I shrugged my head when I saw red colours on the blurriness around me. I massaged my aching head as I got dizzy with the flashing red. Blood? Am I seeing blood in the flashing lights? "Hey! You okay?"

I looked around, listening to see if I could maybe hear them. I heard movement to my right, making me turn to look into the tree line. My heart thumped in my chest, hope filling my heart. Had they come back for me? I tried my hardest to see if maybe I could see their familiar forms, but it was the blind hour; dawn and dusk were the times of day when our eyes struggled to see things. Alexander had said that they call it the blind hour, where it was hard for our heightened sense of sight to make out shapes or see anything as we typically did.

he concurred. "Now let's see which will go first. We have Tease, the one on the red blindfold; we have Barely, the one on the orange blindfold; then we have Minimum, the one on the green blindfold; then we have Maximum, the one on the white blindfold; and then we have Perk, the one on the yellow blindfold. Each of them will go according to the level, and each person would have only five minutes with you. I gasped. "Now, put on your mask, lose the blindfold for the first one's eyes, and then he will take it from there."

The pressure behind my eyes appeared suddenly. Sharp. Familiar. A vision. Damn it. The world blurred. Buildings dissolved. Voices vanished. Darkness replaced everything. Then images emerged. A rooftop. A rifle. A man kneeling near the edge. Watching. Waiting. Not aiming to kill. A test. The realization arrived instantly. He wasn't hunting me. He was measuring me. Measuring my reaction. My abilities. My awareness. The vision shifted. The rifle fired. Glass shattered. Panic erupted. People screamed.

I sadly add. "I sorta can," Nate shocks me by saying. I look at him with large eyes until he elaborates. I was pleased to see he face was clear tonight, no glasses of any kind guarding his eyes, which he blushed madly about when it was the first thing I said to him when he got into my car. "I can see better in the dark. Bright lights are what irritate my eyes. But when it's dark, I can see outlines of things. Like if you put up your fingers," he reaches down and grabs my hand in his and my breathing instantly hitches in my chest, "I can tell you're holding up three of them."

He was steering entirely with his bleeding wrists. The massive dose of antibiotics he had dry-swallowed that morning was completely wearing off. The severe infection in his lacerated palms was rapidly returning with a violent, white-hot vengeance. His vision swam with terrifying, dark spots. The heavy traffic lights aggressively blurred into long, blinding streaks of red and green. "Ma'am..." Aryan whispered desperately, his voice barely audible over the hum of the powerful engine. The Bentley was swerving slightly in the wide lane. "I... I can't... see clearly. My hands..."

It hits me like a rock square in the eye, sending tremors through my skull. Fuck, fuck… “FUCK!” I hiss, pressing a palm over my eye as my body stumbles backwards. Blue, red, purple, black… The world around me fades to nothing, then everything, then nothing again. My body leans against something that has to be my desk, and I suck in one sharp breath after another, forcing myself to blink even as wood scrapes against marble in my ears. He's getting away, Cross. Move. But my eyes don't obey, no. I blink, and it's darkness, then light, then..

They were shipped in from overseas at a ridiculous cost. “I have never missed taking them. Damn it, Rukov—if I don’t take them, how the fuck am I supposed to see?” I snapped. “I think right now the drugs aren’t doing their job anymore. It’s more like an after-effect. Last night I went totally blind for a few minutes. Earlier this morning I had a bad blur in my left eye that lasted almost an hour.” “Do you think we should head to the hospital? They might be able to check if something’s wrong,” Rukov suggested.