"Goldie…?"
She was so tired, and still a bit drunk from the night before, threatening to slide sideways right off the bench she was sitting on. It was difficult to pull her head up enough to see who had gently called her name, harder still to force her eyes open, shrug her thin shawl higher to cover her bare shoulders, the skin there covered in a smattering of bruises. But when she did manage to look up, it only made her wish she was still drunker.
"Franky. What're ya doin here?"
It had been weeks since she'd seen him. Possibly months. It was cold outside, in any case, but Andy kept his bar just warm enough, even during the day when there weren't very many people around, just a handful of regulars who came for the bad coffee, and to drool on the girls they might be able to afford later. The fact that Frank Sullivan had intruded into this world, her dark, and smokey, drug and alcohol laced world, was unexpected, and unwanted.
"Lookin for ya. Been lookin for weeks. Ya said ya'd sorted yaself out. Was this whatcha meant? That ya were comin here?"
She couldn't look at him, couldn't handle the look on his face, the disappointment, that look of sadness. It had killed her to come back to this place, to this life, almost literally. Andy had come close to breaking her jaw while he had blacked both eyes, the bruises hidden under layers of face paint. Breathing deeply was still a problem, one that wasn't made easier by spending her nights on her back, being half-crushed by careless men. Andy was good at that, damaging his girls not so badly that they couldn't work, but badly enough that it hurt, lingering, long after the beating had ended.
" 'S all I'm good for, Franky. No one else wanted me."
She didn't mean it to be an accusation, but the way he recoiled, she regretted having said it, right away. Wincing, she moved to stand, a struggle hindered by heavy reliance on the wall behind her, and the armrest of the bench, intending to correct herself, to not include him in that blunt statement. But he cut her off before she could speak.
"I know what ya meant. Look, I found ya work. Alphonse Capelli said he'd hire ya, so long as ya cut this crap out. No drinkin, no drugs, none of this. And if ya've forgotten ya hookwork, Sarah said she'd show ya. In the meantime, until we can find ya a roomin house, her ma said ya could stay with them. So, ya comin with me. Right now. And Andy can go rot in hell."
His kindness almost hurt, horrible, painful, and raw. She knew she was going to ruin everything for him, and he didn't seem to care, he was just determined to keep looking out for her, determined to save her from herself, when she didn't even know if she wanted to be saved anymore, if there was anything left to save. Her grip on the wall and the armrest faltered, and she crumbled back down until she was sitting, shaking.
"I can't. I don't… I don't wanna mess up ya life, Franky. I'm gonna mess everything up. And Andy took everything of mine when I got back. What I'm wearin is all I have, I can't go anywhere."
His hand caught her elbow, firmly, but gently, tugging her to her feet, and starting her towards the door, slipping out of his jacket, and carefully putting it on her shoulders. He didn't let her get a word in as he got her to put the jacket on, pulling her into the street, and away from the Dove, not letting her pause or give a backwards glance when Andy's voice rang out from the building. He all but marched her, quickly, through the streets, in the direction of the Jacobs's apartment, and waited until they were blocks away before speaking.
"Sarah's got a dress you can borrow for now. We'll get ya some clothes, and a jacket, once ya've got a paycheck or two under ya belt. Some of the boys've scrounged up a spare scarf, and some mittens for ya, I've got 'em at the Lodgin House. Ya start work on Monday, alright? Sarah'll bring ya, she works there, too."
It was like he wasn't listening to her. He didn't understand that it was pointless, that she'd fail, that she'd destroy his new family the way she'd destroyed his real one. But she couldn't stop him, he just kept propelling her forward, and she was so tired, and so broken that she couldn't put up any sort of fight.
"I can't meet people like this, Jack, I look like, I mean, I look like me. They're gonna hate you for stickin 'em with me. Please, Franky."
He finally stopped moving, and for one horrible second, she thought he might leave her there, which, somehow, was as terrifying as going with him. But he simply turned to look at her, his hands cupping her cheeks, shaking his head, with a sad, crooked smile.
"They know what ya've been doin, Gold. They know where ya've been living. But they also know I love ya. They know ya were my best friend when I was a kid, and they know ya all the family I have left. And they know ya didn't want it, that ya didn't want any of it, that ya got put there against ya will, that Andy hurt ya to keep ya there. They're good people, and that's all they care about, that they're helpin someone who needs help. That I have a friend who needs help, and they can help. Please, just let me help ya. I can't fail ya again. Not now. Not again."
Something about his voice just broke her, set her off sobbing, crumbling against his chest, clinging to him, like she had that night, when she was thirteen, and she'd run to him for help. She was so tired, so tired, and so broken, and his arms around her, holding her, were the only things keeping her together. She knew he could feel her break, giving in, allowing herself to have faith that he'd help her, that this time, he would help her, and maybe it wouldn't destroy everything. When she finally looked up at him, tears still tumbling down her cheeks, but slowing, he was still smiling down at her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"Now. Lets getcha to the Jacobs's apartment, alright? It's cold out here."
She nodded, and let him tug her off again, with less resistance this time. She still wasn't sure these people would want her around once they got a good look at her, but it would be someplace warm, at least, to rest. And maybe the job at Capelli's Lace Shop would work out. Maybe things would really be alright. This girl of his seemed sweet, and if Jack loved her, that was really enough for her. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright.