Warning: this chapter deals with miscarriage so please do not read if uncomfortable. Thank you.


In her heart Tay believed that Spot's words would only last until sunrise the next morning and, if previous experience had taught her anything, probably not even that long. What the hell did he mean by telling her he loved her? Tay simply couldn't comprehend it which was why she had carefully unwrapped Spot's arm from around her waist and crept soundlessly out of his bed. Tay knew there was nowhere to go and no one to help her but she needed time to think and being able to think straight while she was anywhere near Spot had never been one of her strong points. She had stood beside the bed for awhile, watching Spot sleep and he appeared so vulnerable, she'd even go so far as to say innocent, that Tay's heart melted. She knew if she continued to stay she'd end up forgiving him so she held tight to the fear burning inside her chest and left him alone on that freezing winter night.

Tay walked along the darkened streets, her mind preoccupied with imagining the inevitable moment when Spot would take those three little words back and rip everything away from her. Their years together had taught Tay that to Spot everything was a game and he knew just how to move the pieces so that he won every time. Loving another person was not something that anyone with half a brain would believe Spot Conlon was capable of. At least, not the Spot Conlon she'd left sleeping in the lodging house attic. If Tay really searched her memory, she might have found a tiny scrap of belief that he had cared for her once. But that had been so long ago that all she had left were a few memories that she could no longer even trust in as he'd manipulated her in ways that left her at a complete loss. It was just like when he had asked for forgiveness. He schemed and threatened, reveling in the chaos he created and Tay grew downhearted as she thought about how it hadn't always been that way. Part of her wished so badly that she could stop caring about Spot, stop worrying about him, just stop feeling anything. It was partially that worry that had driven her back into his arms and then there was always the fact that no matter how she hurt, how much damage he had caused her, she didn't seem able to sever her ties to Spot.

Tay stood at the end of the dock and stared calmly down into the icy water below. It won't take long, she told herself. After all, she'd seen enough bodies go into that water and never return. The boys who misjudged the depth before diving in headfirst. Ones who had accepted a dare to swim to this point or that, not realizing they weren't good swimmers until far too late. Of course there were the most difficult times when a body had to disappear, no questions asked. Another body wouldn't really matter. Tay looked down to where her body had begun to swell ever so slightly. Two bodies then, she thought dismally. It was supposed to be an easy decision. It had seemed so easy the first time when she'd taken his knife, intent on making him suffer in the same way he'd made her suffer. The cuts had been deep, but not deep enough. Just another time when Spot had been so right about her. She couldn't escape from him. The worst thing was that she didn't even want to. It wasn't something she couldn't explain. Not to Racetrack or Sarah or Jack. Not to anyone who only saw Spot Conlon exactly the way he wanted them to.


"I-I didn't mean it," Tay whispered. She stumbled over the words and tried hard to swallow the lump in her throat. It was the first time he had struck her but she had already learned that her tears seemed to only further irritate him so she blinked hard to keep from crying. Spot held her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him as he crouched in front of her. Her left hand stung and was bleeding from where she'd tried to catch herself before she hit the ground. Her jaw felt sore although she wasn't sure if it was from when Spot had struck her or the fact that he was holding onto her so tightly. In that one brief moment Tay understood the monster Spot had kept hidden from her all that time.

"Don't." One simple little word. Since the night Rook had been killed Tay had begun to notice that Spot seemed to choose his words very carefully and that he spoke to her less and less. There were long moments of silence, even days, when he would not speak to her at all. Tay had tried to fill the silence herself but was quickly learning that everything she said was wrong. She was wrong. Spot had found his role to play but she was still so unsure of her own. Somehow she knew in that moment that standing up to him in front of the others and talking back was going to end up as another rule not to be broken. That night Spot would sit at the edge of their bed and study the bruised skin along Tay's cheek. She had felt hesitant about allowing him to get close to her again but then he'd looked at her with eyes so lost and desperate that it nearly took her breath away and she'd decided to forgive him (but not really) even though he hadn't even asked her to.


Tay awoke to find someone had turned the lamplight down low, leaving the room filled with shadows but little else had changed. Every movement was still painful, every thought equally painful as she took a moment to survey her surroundings. Spot had taken up his usual position by the door and was watching her from underneath the brim of his cap. His eyes reminded her of the ocean after a storm. She felt a cold hand squeeze around her heart when she made the mistake of wondering if the baby would have had Spot's eyes. It was the first time she had thought about what might have been if she hadn't been so foolish as to leave Spot's bed and go wandering around the streets of Brooklyn on her own at night. Before that moment Tay hadn't been able to think about much of anything. The days and night had been consisted of nothing but confusion in Tay's drug addled haze and she couldn't even tell how long she'd been trapped in that room with nothing but Spot and her frayed memories for company. Tay carefully turned back over, pain radiating through her body as she concentrated instead on tracing the gaudy wallpaper pattern with her fingers. It had become such a habit that she was beginning to see places where the pattern had worn away.

"Anna. Say something."

Since the night Tay had awoken in a second-rate brothel and heard Spot's halting explanation of how he'd found her bloodied, beaten, and left for dead in an alley near the Navy Yard, he had repeatedly tried to get Tay to speak but she'd refused. It was nearly impossible to tell exactly how much time had passed and Tay had done little else except stare at the wall beside the bed and maintain a mournful silence. Rather than answer Spot, Tay pressed the tip of her index finger against the wall and began to pick at a small strip of paper. It was the same room he'd brought her to the night of the rally at Irving Hall. She remembered the rose petal pattern of the wallpaper.

"You gotta talk sometime."

"You did this." It had been so long since Tay had said anything that her own voice sounded strange. The words tasted like ashes in her mouth and she licked at her dry, chapped lips but she couldn't even find the strength to continue. Spot cursed under his breath and she could hear him begin to pace back and forth across the room. There was a short hiss as Spot struck a match and the smell of cigarette smoke wafted over to Tay. Her body stiffened as the mattress dipped when Spot took a seat on the other end of the bed. It was the closest he'd dared to get to her since the night she'd fought him tooth and nail after he'd revealed that the small life she'd carried was gone. Dried blood was still visible under her fingernails as evidence of the damage she'd done while trying to protect herself and the small secret she'd carried. It had all been for naught as Spot had explained in bits and pieces, whenever Tay was coherent enough to understand, that there was no pregnancy. Not anymore.

"I didn't do this. I would never…" Spot's voice was low, almost soft but Tay's heart was hardened against him and a short, bitter laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"You did it before," Tay pointed out. She'd always known what Spot was capable of and there were moments, however small, when he truly terrified her. But a small voice questioned her commitment to him. He'd hurt her, manipulated her, and there were times she was even convinced that he had liked doing it but how sick and twisted must she have been to have allowed it? Not only allowed it but somehow managed to fall in love with a person capable of the cruelty that he exhibited. Tay could admit she'd been foolish because the truth was Spot had never lied to her about who he was. But his words left her with more questions than answers. Was she supposed to believe that he had changed? That any of it was different?

"I didn't do this," Spot repeated, more forcefully. He placed his hand on her waist for a brief moment and Tay felt something inside break open at his touch. She bit at her lip until it bled as she tried to contain the screams of pain and frustration that bubbled up inside.

"Well, you seem awful miserable for someone who got what they wanted."

"Anna, stop it." His voice was harsh but ragged as though he was holding back his own grief and Tay was startled by the realization that he might have been in pain as well. "I know you ain't got any reason to believe me but I'm not lying."

"Why are you always playing these games? What else could you possibly want from me? You tossed me out like garbage and we were done but you had to pull one last trick, didn't you?"

"I was trying to protect you."

The bitterness in Tay's voice tasted like poison and her voice broke on the last question. "Why did you have to lie and tell me you love me?" She could have believed anything else, except that. She had swallowed so many lies over the years that it was almost commonplace but his last lie had been the one that had crushed her heart completely.

"That's what you think?" His voice was sharp and Tay felt a familiar sting the way it cut straight through to her heart. His hand covered her own as he reached across her body but Tay twisted out of his grasp. Spot remained undeterred and put up with Tay's weak attempts to push and kick him away. Nearly every part of her was bruised or bloody and left her unable to fight even though she was inwardly seething with rage. Spot calmly deflected her attempts to strike him and waited until she was utterly spent to take hold of both her hands.

"Look at me." Tay stubbornly refused and allowed her gaze to wander around the room, concentrating on everything except Spot. She knew what would happen if she gave in and looked at him. She flew through her memories and thought about how often he'd won with one simple look. One glance and he'd read her every thought and emotion. He had always been ten steps ahead of her.

"Please, just let me go."

"I didn't lie. I meant what I said."

"Why am I supposed to believe you? You've never done nothing but hurt me every way you possibly could—"

"I was wrong." The words hit Tay with a force she wasn't prepared for and left her confused. She had been prepared for any other explanation but to hear him admit he was wrong stunned her. Tay felt completely and utterly shattered. The hardest part was seeing the way he looked when he told her. It had been so long since she'd seen him that way. No malice or hidden agenda. The way his eyes were clear and such a deep, deep blue that she could have willingly drowned in their depths. The mask had slipped away for the briefest moment, allowing her to once again see the boy he'd been before Brooklyn. The boy she'd fallen in love with. The problem was every time she caught a glimpse of any light in his darkness, she'd fall further into his trap and end up pinning all her hope on that brief little spark. Tay glanced down to where his hand rested in hers and noticed the scratches she'd left along the backs of his hands the night he'd found her. It was all still such a blur and she suddenly felt very cold inside. "It's a little late for that, don't you think? Or are you hoping that'll just fix everything and you can go right back to your precious kingdom like nothing ever happened? Just go ahead and admit it. You don't love me 'cause you—"

"Why do you always have to make everything so goddamn difficult? You want me to tell you that I hated you? 'Cause I have, I'll admit it. I hated it every time you acted like Kieran was a fucking saint when I watched him try to sell you off like you was nothing. I hate that the others expect me to treat you the same as them and that I do it because if I don't, it'll be just like the Refuge all over again." Spot dropped her hands and sat on the edge of the bed looking utterly defeated. "They used to make me listen when they—I couldn't do anything and I swore I wasn't gonna let anyone use you against me again so I lied and told myself that I hated you, that I didn't need you around. But I wasn't lying that night when I told you I love you."

The physical pain Tay felt seemed to dissipate but was replaced by a sharper, more poignant pain in her heart as she listened to Spot. It would have been so easy to turn away or to scoff at his words but she loved him too deeply for that. She reached out and held one of his hands in hers, wrapping his arm around her waist as she pulled him down alongside her and curled her body against his. She knew the moment was fleeting but for that brief period of time she was willing to let go of all the anger and regret and allow him back into her heart.