I've had this chapter written for a while now and I realize that I haven't updated in well over a year. Sorry about that, really. But during this time, I received a couple of follows, reviews, and what not, so thank you for still sticking by. I have an outline of where I want to go with this story, but truth be told I haven't had the time nor the motivation to write. I don't know exactly how I'm going to approach each story arc that I've set for myself. The plan is to make the story more Lucas-centric as we go on since I feel a lot more strongly for the plot lines I've planned for him. Don't worry, Brooke will still have her time. I completely agree with one of the reviews about my lack of updates. I'm really sorry and I promise I will try my best to keep this story going.

That being said, I wanted to get a couple of chapters written before I started up this story again. So for the next few weeks there should be a somewhat steady stream of updates. (Provided that college- and most importantly, my writer's block- doesn't get in the way again). Important things will be happening within the next few chapters so I'm excited for that. I hope that those of you that are still following will enjoy this chapter as well as the upcoming ones and those that are just starting this story will find it good enough to begin following.

One last order of business, I introduced a new character last chapter (I think? It's been a while). Francesca is Lou's niece and there will be a side arc involving her. She plays an important role in Lucas' past and his future (Stay tuned). After all, there's been a bit of tension on Brooke's side. It's only fair that Lucas' life is expanded upon, seeing that there's more to his story than the one I've been telling so far. There's another new character, this time a historical figure, so keep an eye out. He will be extremely instrumental in Lucas' changing life and I've been extremely excited to introduce him to the story.

There are very few moments where people feel completely content with their lives. The way it's gone and the way it's about to go. Their greatest fault was realizing too late that the best of times were upon them and spending countless hours lamenting what was. It was perhaps natural disposition that rendered them oblivious to times of peace because they somehow felt less impacted than they should have by the moments they ought to have treasured. This unrelenting feeling of nostalgia was universal. For men will always wish for the time of those who came before and those for the time of men who came before them until there reaches a time which no one can remember. The biggest flaw in all of this was that history was sometimes subjective. Sure, facts can be written on a page which will inevitably be held as the "truth" for years to come. There are, however, many versions of the "truth." Not lies, no, but versions of the truth. It's too easy to glorify simpler times having not lived through it because these feelings originate from a sense of familiarity, an unwillingness to change.

And then there are those less fortunate who will take their luck and run with it. They live lives characterized by one tragedy followed by the next that it becomes the easiest thing in the world to recognize the good, no matter how small of a good thing it may be.

She inched closer to him, planting a kiss on his neck. "Luke, time to get up."

"You can't wear me out like you did last night and expect me to wake up." Without opening his eyes, he knew she was biting her lips in that irresistible way of hers. Her fingers would trace vague shapes on his chest in three, two, one. There it was. It was like clockwork. He knew her.

He thought she had given up when she sighed, praying that she would let him go back to sleep. Just then, she straddled him and ran her hands along the contours of his chest before resting them on his shoulders. She saw it in her advantage to work a few kisses on the way there. Any chance of falling asleep was long gone. "Come on Luke, I don't want to stay in bed all day."

With his eyes still closed, he captured her lips with his and managed to turn them over. "I have no problem with staying in bed all day," he challenged, "We have everything we need here. Liquor, cigarettes, you, me, an empty apartment, and this bed. It sounds like a fucking paradise to me, pretty girl."

She turned them back over. "Paradise is us going out and doing something for once." She struggled to pull him up by his arms while he laughed amusedly. "Come on. Luke. Get up. You're so heavy."

He reached back and pulled his pillow up. He sat up before lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. "You know why we can't do that. If someone sees us… I'm not ready to lose you yet."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily. After all, you're underestimating how charming this girl of yours is. I've been making my rounds around Ludlow and I'll have you know that they love me." Her brow was arched in that confident tone she always bore. And that smirk, he could swear that smirk was the making of the devil. The Davis girl could have the world at her knees if she wanted and he wouldn't be surprised if she already had.

"And modest as well. How could anyone possibly compare to you?" he commented sarcastically.

She had since abandoned the sheets covering her body. "I charmed you, didn't I?"

"Touché."

"Please, Luke?" she pouted. "I can't stay in here any longer. No one is going to talk. I promise."

He rubbed his tired eyes. "Brooke," he sighed.

Her fingers trailed down his body, inching lower and lower towards his growing member. "Please, Luke," she asked slowly.

His head was thrown back and his eyes were glazed over with complete lust. "Yes, yes."

No sooner had her fingers reached their target than they had left. She jumped off the bed, swaying her hips back and forth as she walked away. She stretched her arm and leaned against the doorframe. "Now, I'm headed for the shower. If you know what's good for you, you'll join me." It was more of a demand than a question.

He had absolutely no complaints. It finally seemed as if everything was going as he wanted it to be. And no amount of money could keep him on this high.

The days around Kelly's were starting to slow down. There was no action as of late and he was beginning to get a little restless. When he finished the last of his beer, Nathan threw his bottle of beer in the old tarnished trashcan and it landed cleanly.

"Five bucks says you can't make it again," Lucky said as he lit his cigarette.

Nathan chuckled patronizingly. It was a shot he made several times before and would have no problem hitting again. "Twenty bucks and you've got yourself a deal." He threw the crisp bill onto the barrel in front of him.

"Ten."

The younger Scott shook his head. "Twenty."

"Fifteen." Lucky tossed another five to his pile.

"Twenty," Nathan maintained nonchalantly.

"Fine you cocksucker. Twenty it is." Lucky downed the rest of his beer and handed the glass to Nathan. "Let's see what you can do lover boy."

"Yea, yea you son of a bitch. Don't come crying when I pocket that pretty twenty of yours," he joked as he grabbed the bottle handed to him. He aimed the glass carefully at the can, his arms raised in perfect form above him. He released the beer bottle with a majestic arc and a flawless follow through. The bottle danced around the rim for a moment before landing in its desired spot- among the garbage in the can. "What'd I tell ya Lucky? Perfect shot every time. Thanks for dinner," he smiled as he waved the bills in front of Lucky's face. There was one thing that never changed, he would never be a gracious winner.

Just then, another one of Kelly's lackeys called out to the brunette Scott. "Hey Nathan, Kelly wants to see you in the office. Now."

Nathan nodded in acknowledgement. He tapped Lucky on the shoulder. "It was nice betting with you. We should do it again sometime."

Lucky only grumbled as he took another drag of his cigarette.

The younger Scott rapped his knuckles against the wooden door at the end of the warehouse and was met with a muffled "Come in." "You called for me boss?"

"Yea," he pushed forward the white envelope on the desk. "Here's your cut from the last job. You did good Nate. You know, you carry your weight around here. I've been thinking that you begin to lead some of the new recruits. Toss them into the deep end of the pool so they know what they're getting into from the get-go. Speaking of new recruits, I want you to talk to your brother. We've got more shipments coming in and I don't see it slowing down anytime soon. Tell him he can keep his job, he can work for me on the side. I was young once too. The broads don't just come around if you don't got money linin' your pockets. He knows the docks and I need someone on the docks. Tell him he'd be stupid to refuse."

"I'll try boss, but my brother's a straight shooter."

Kelly chuckled. "Everyone's got a price Nate. There will always be a number high enough to turn even the most honest of men. He'll work for me one day. Get your ass down to Lucky's, we got business to do."

The thought didn't have a chance to lull over in his mind because if anyone knew Lucas, it was him. Lucas had voiced his disapproval toward Nathan and his job and most importantly, Lucas kept by his word no matter what. There were days when Nathan saw his brother agonizing over money and wanted to ask him to join Kelly, but Lucas wasn't cut out for this life. He could feel the person he used to be slipping through the cracks. That's the thing about working for Kelly. You don't realize you want out until it's too late. And when that day comes, you'll convince yourself that it's the life you want because you're too much of a fucking coward to admit you've done wrong the whole time.

This was his life now. And he'd said it enough times to make it his truth: Kelly was the greatest opportunity he ever had.

"Make it quick," he said as he entered the car.

"I've had a couple of guys following her for the past couple of days. If she isn't at the Davis residence, she's at an apartment in Ludlow," the gangster told him. Kelly was trying to breathe new life into his business by opening Chicago. New York was beginning to crowd from ambitious men trying to make a living from doing dirty work. Naturally, a network to expand his influence was an easier alternative to quelling every hotheaded, belligerent gang wanting to make a name for itself. Kelly had sent the gangster to Chicago in hopes of recruiting the young and reckless to his cause. The gangster was stationed here for several months now and wished for his life back in Brooklyn. He had uprooted his entire life, wife and kid, at the behest of Kelly.

Julian had automatically assumed the worst. He was told the mark of a successful relationship was trust; he took that to mean blind faith. He certainly didn't get this far in life on blind faith. Brooke was his life and this, the monitoring, was his insurance against the uncontrollable. "Who was she with? There is no godly reason why Brooke would ever make her way down to Ludlow." He smoothed out the crease in his tailored coat.

The gangster looked to Julian briefly for approval as he stuck a cigarette in his mouth. The banker nodded, prompting the gangster to light the stick. He exhaled the thick smoke before responding. "She's walked out a couple of times with a nightclub singer. Haley James, I think her name is. I've tried asking around to avoid getting caught following but the landlord is never there to answer questions. The tenants wither don't speak a lick of English or say they've never heard of a Ms. Davis. My men say she sometimes frequents a bar called O' Halloran's. She hasn't been there for the past couple of nights and the bartender isn't giving anything up. I know he's holding back on information. I'll have my men corner him in the alley after he closes up. It will take some time to get the order out to New York. You know Kelly has to sign off on this before my men get to work. And that fucking accountant who's too much of a pussy to show his face keeps telling the boss to hold off on doing jobs for you until all your debts are paid."

The banker merely sniggered. "That cocksucker knows I always settle my debts but he grabs me by the fucking balls like I don't have the money. I'll have the cash wired by the end of the day. Make sure your men deliver."

"Yes sir. Now I don't mean no disrespect to the boss, but there are certain things that could be changed about the way he runs things. I'd take your word in good faith Mr. Baker. You've done enough business with us to make your word gospel. If I was running the joint, I'd get rid of that fucking accountant. He's fucking dirty and I know it. We could only do more business without him. Kelly could be making a hell of a lot more money than he does now, that's for sure."

Julian normally hated insubordinates. They were quick to offer advice but lacked the insight and intelligence to realize their ideas were wrong. They often overreached, trying to disturb an order with which they had no business interfering. "What's your name?" he found himself asking despite his proclivities. He produced his checkbook from the inside of his coat.

"Capone. Al Capone, sir." The gangster watched as the banker quickly scribbled his answer on a check followed by a one and the largest number of zeros he'd had ever seen.

"Capone. I'm advancing this check to you in good faith. You see, my patience with Kelly is wearing thin. I see something in you, potential to be the greatest mobster that ever was. I want you to work for me, but pretend like you still answer to Kelly. In return, I will continue giving you these kindly sums and I will help you take over Chicago. Now I don't know the first thing about running a successful gang, but I've never had an investment go wrong. You take this check and if I see my bank account short the amount I've just written to you, I will have had my answer." He tipped his hat and opened the car door.

Despite his shortcomings as of late, Jake had made good on his obligations and brought back enough money for Jenny's treatment. Peyton knew the money didn't add up, but she no longer cared. After weeks of watching that girl falling in and out of sickness and her being completely powerless to treat it, she welcomed the brief remedy to her stress. She all but grabbed the cash and ran to Doc's with Jenny in her arms. There was once a time when she could have led a promising life as a carefree bohemian, drinking and smoking with artists, musicians, and writers. And at that time, she would have laughed at the thought of her being a helpless mess on the account of a child. Her life now was worlds apart from that time. The proof was in the fact that she would have chosen this life a thousand times over for that little girl. Despite the struggles and stress. Especially because of the struggles and stress.

They sat on the sidelines waiting anxiously as the doctor moved about. "Is she going to be okay, Doc?"

He walked over to one of many shelves lined with bottles of all sorts. "She's a sickly child and I don't imagine this changing. It's going to be hard for her while she's growing up. My treatment is temporary. She'll come over with this sickness again and again and there's not much I can do about it," he said as he grabbed a brown bottle. "Feed her a tablespoon every morning and night. Her affliction should be gone in a few days. Every time she acts up again, this medicine should help alleviate her symptoms. I wish there was more I could do, but unless better treatments come along, my hands are tied."

"Thank you doctor. Here's what I owe you for the visit," she said as she handed the bills over. The doctor only nodded in response as he took the money from her trembling hands.

She scooped the litter girl into her arms and did her best to shield her from the incoming cold. Jake trailed behind her silently. He didn't know what to make of Peyton's current mood. Her emotions were always beyond prediction. It used to be that he could handle her and for lack of a better term, he tamed her. They had loved each other once; it was difficult to remember these times when their current predicament made it seem like a foreign concept, happiness that is. Maybe they still did, or he did at least.

Peyton's pregnancy had been largely unplanned. At the time, it seemed like the worst thing that could have happened to either of them. Poor, young, and knew shit all about responsibility. Neither of them was cut out for the settled life. On long, quiet nights, when the streets were long empty and he made his way home from a strenuous day, she would be up waiting for him. He would find himself staring back at her and seeing resentment. Resentment for the worry he's caused. Resentment for him tying her down. He knew that Peyton loved Jenny though. That as much as she loved that little girl, she hated him. He would never ask her about it. It was just better for the both of them to allow misconceptions about the other to fester than it was to hear the dreaded words spoken aloud and have all doubt removed.

"Thank you," she whispered to him.

He was caught by surprise at her words. When had they become strangers? When had providing for their daughter become a favor to warrant gratitude? "It's my job, Peyton," he replied warily. It's not that he was looking to argue with her. These days every single comment she made seemed to passively aggressively criticize him for not being the man she wanted him to be. He knew it was inappropriate, what with their daughter in earshot and her almost dying, but he felt the build-up of years of discontent surging through his tired body. Looking at that helpless girl was the only thing keeping him on eggshells around Peyton. "I'm going to try, Peyt. I know you don't believe me, but it's the honest to God truth."

They had come together to bring about the very thing which was tearing them apart. And neither of them knew how to stop it.

Lou gave her a key to an apartment she'd never imagine entering again. There were many reasons why she had chosen to leave for Jersey. Yes, the singing was a huge part of it, but she had done it for a change of scenery. Her romantic life had reached a breaking point and the stresses of her family were beginning to take its toll.

Part of her felt guilty for leaving her father. Ever since her mother died, he turned to the bottle. He didn't do much parenting; he had left that responsibility to his brother Lou. Lou was the closest thing to a father she had, but even then she could never feel like she was his. She did her best to survive on her own, picking up where Lou left off.

It was safe to say that she would have starved had it not been for her uncle. Her father only ever scrapped together enough money for alcohol and when he wasn't drinking, he was passed out. Many nights were spent tending to the hungover mess he became.

She twisted the metal piece into the lock and pushed the familiar door open. "Dad?" she called out.

No answer.

She walked into the adjoining room. The middle aged man was whispering in his sleep. "Gemma." After all these years, he still called out her mother's name. As if he was the only one who had lost her. Francesca was closer to her mother than she was with her father. When her mother died, she was impossibly young. Much too young to fathom the loss of a parent. Somehow, she had to come to terms with it on her own. She had grown to hate her father for not being there for her when she needed him most.

He wasn't there per say, but he was physically there with her. Her mother had left them- she was the only reason why she had to become an adult at nine years of age. It seemed irrational to her, however, to hate the dead. It was much easier to place blame on someone she could see because at least he had the chance to redeem them.

Frankie removed the empty bottle from his limp hand and placed it on the nightstand. She fetched a dry towel to wipe the contents that had spilled to the floor. Three years away from New York and still, the routine was fresh in her mind.

The apartment had been frozen in time. She would have laughed if it didn't signify her lost childhood. The outside world was constantly changed by forces beyond anyone's understanding and control, but this Ludlow apartment of all places remained completely unscathed. It wasn't the kind of constant that people wanted or hoped for, but it was her constant.

She never felt at home despite living there her entire life. How did one reconcile homesickness for a place that they didn't exist in one's heart? Perhaps time away had given her perspective because for the first time in her young life, she finally felt it.

This was the third time he had checked his watch. He had asked Haley to deliver a message to Brooke. With the way his brother and his lover were bound, he'd be surprised that the rich socialite would even make it to the meeting at all.

He finally spotted her from the corner of his eye and waved discreetly to signal his presence.

"Haley said you wanted to see him. Sorry I'm so late. You know how your brother is. Can barely keep his hands off me," she joked.

He shuffled awkwardly. Firstly, he didn't want to think of his brother that way and secondly, what he had to say would remove the jovial tone the brunette assumed. "About that. I think you should stop seeing Lucas for a little while."

Her face fell immediately. "I thought you were okay with us now. I know I'm just the girl that your brother's seeing, but -"

Nathan shook his head fervently. "No, no. It's not that. Kelly gave an order out today. To me and a couple of the guys I work with. I didn't realize what it was at first. I thought it was just tailing some rich guy's wife. You know, classic guy is paranoid his better half is cheating, hires mob to catch her in the act and break the cocksucker's bones."

She felt the dread building in the pit of her stomach. She knew where this was leading and now she couldn't help but feel stupid for putting Lucas in that kind of danger. Damn it, she shouldn't have tried to convince him to walk about in public with her.

"I caught on pretty quick and I tried my best to avoid you. You guys can't go out like that, Kelly's men are looking for you. We got lucky today, but I can't keep these guys off your tail without them getting suspicious and all. It's best if you lay low. I don't want my brother to get killed." He had grown to like Brooke. She was a good change for his brother, especially after the bump in the road he went through a few years before. But Lucas was blood. Nathan would always have his back first and foremost. Moreover, this was precisely why he was against this whole relationship in the first place. He knew this day would come.

She took his words as an offense. To mean that she was the one that had put Lucas in harm's way. Yes, in a way it was her fault. Maybe she was too stubborn to consider the consequences because it bought her two weeks time. Two weeks that were possibly the happiest she's ever had. "Do you think Kelly's guys saw us together?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

"I don't think so. Baker's sure something is going on and he has it out for the guy."

"Julian isn't like that. Before you tell me that I'm one of those girls who can see no wrong in the man they're with, I'm not. I know Julian. He's protective, but he would never hurt someone like that. For Pete's sake, he visited his nanny in Chicago. That kind of man does not kill."

He sighed. There was no way he wouldn't get push back for telling her point blank that she was wrong, but he didn't know how else to phrase it. "I get my orders from Kelly. Kelly has no beef with you. He doesn't order his men to go on a massive man hunt without getting compensation. My orders were to kill Lucas. Not rough him up a little bit so he learns a lesson. He literally wants Lucas to die a slow, painful death and if he doesn't die, he'll be wishing he did. My brother is a good guy. He doesn't deserve this Brooke."

Read: you don't deserve someone like him. "I'll lay low," she said dejectedly.

"Thank you Brooke."

He situated himself on the dock, dangling his feet over the water. Brooke had been gone for a while now, but they agreed to meet up again later on in the night. He made himself comfortable despite the cold chill and lit a cigarette. His eyes squinted as they usually did when he was contemplating, staring at the river and the distant skyline of Jersey. Of course, it was nothing close to New York. The lights already went out on that side but if he looked a little more closely, he might have found someone just like him sitting on the opposite end, staring at the city, blinded by the bright lights.

You start to wonder if you were real. If the world you're in actually existed. If the experiences you had have somehow changed you and those around you. Or if everything was a figment of our overactive imaginations. We can claim to know more. Age, for instance, seems to be the adopted measure of knowledge. Not general knowledge like why the planets revolve around the Sun or why the stars shine at night, but knowledge of life, experiences, which is deemed directly proportional to age. Yet there are those who have lived a lifetime without anything eventful, in which case their lives could hardly have been considered lived. There are those called the young and reckless. Those that face each coming day with a sense of wonder and pack their lives with experiences like sardines in a can. Those that see much but are not long for this world. Knowledge such as the undying love I have for you. Knowledge that this affair, like those crash and burn types, is fleeting like ships in the night.

He took one glance at his watch before using his right hand to prop himself up. He gave one last look at the departing fleets before putting out his cigarette. Those were the ships at night. The ones that left in the blanket of darkness, retreating in almost complete silence to some destination unknown with purposes unknown.

Was the chapter worthy of a return? Reviews are appreciated. Until next time.