It was always darkest before the dawn. Where had he heard that before? Maybe it had been in one of those books he'd always kept around for nights when he couldn't get his mind to settle down and allow him to sleep. He searched the sky for the first streaks of sunlight and heard a slight disturbance behind him. She was awake and had been for some time but she'd been content just to watch him before interrupting the quiet. He felt his shoulders grow tense as he waited and Tay didn't leave him in suspense for long.
"It's been nine days," she said quietly.
Did she think he didn't already know that? Did she know that every day when he'd left her behind that he had stood on the other side of the door for what seemed like forever, regretting the decision he'd made? But he hated regret, it was something he couldn't afford to feel.
"And?" he prompted.
"And I thought maybe you had changed your mind."
"I haven't." He flung the window up with enough force that he paused for a second, expecting the glass to shatter but nothing happened. The air outside was slightly cooler than inside the apartment and Spot moved out onto the fire escape, grateful for what little relief he could get. Before he could even enjoy the feeling, Tay climbed out next to him with the old quilt wrapped around her shoulders. She was always cold, no matter what the temperature was inside or out.
"I can't keep going like this," Tay told him with her gaze turned down toward the street. He knew very well what she meant. Since their time in the Refuge, Tay had always struggled with staying indoors and she'd often bolt when given the chance. Of course, she'd always been fearful and hesitant to leave Spot's side so when she had run, it wasn't far.
"Should have thought of that before you decided to follow me around," Spot answered. He clenched his jaw in anger. Why could he never shake the constant desire to control her, to break her? He hadn't touched her the other day and yet he felt what he had done was somehow worse. He was growing more agitated by the second.
"I already said I wouldn't do that again," Tay reminded him. He was surprised when she reached out and took his hand. Spot felt a familiar heat build in his chest as Tay traced over the lines of his palm. He leaned his head back against the metal bars and closed his eyes, allowing Tay's calm to take control. She was the only one he allowed himself to relax around because as much as he hated it, he trusted her. And trust was not something that came to Spot easily.
"Remember when I told you that I was trying to protect you? The thing is, doll, I'm still trying and you just can't seem to get that through your pretty little head."
"You said it was taken care of, all that stuff with Brighton. And it ain't like you're running around as the leader of Brooklyn anymore, so who are you trying to protect me from?"
"Brighton is taken care of," Spot told her. He opened his eyes and glanced down to where her hand had grown still in his. "But there's always people to be wary of, doll."
"Like who? I don't understand why you won't just tell me what's going on."
"I am telling you-"
"No, you're just saying the same things you've always said. Just like when we were running around with the newsies," Tay interrupted. "You still have all these rules you expect me to follow when you know damn well I can take care of myself."
"Just listen to me, okay? This isn't like running around worried about simple shit like Queens or shooting marbles or lifting a few wallets anymore. These men are serious, doll."
"Then why do you work for them?" Tay asked with a slight frown.
"I don't work for them," Spot told her. "I'm my own man but that don't mean I ain't gotta tread carefully. And as for you being able to take care of yourself, that ain't exactly the truth. You got a bad habit of ending up exactly where I tell you not to go, doll, and when that happens, I end up having to clean up your mess."
It was probably the longest conversation they'd had since the night he'd gone to see her after so much time apart. Spot wasn't used to having to explain himself to anyone, including Tay. But while he had worked with threats, and coercion, and blackmail before it hadn't ever been as dangerous as what he'd been involved in lately. He'd left the world of selling newspapers behind but his inherent need to be leader of something, of anything continued to drive him to increasingly dangerous situations. Spot had been able to keep a handful of his boys around him which made it easier to keep Tay close and in secret from the outside world. But these men were quick to use anything they could get their hands on against their enemies and Spot was troubled by the idea of their using Tay against him. It certainly wasn't a new idea as he and his crew had spent plenty of time dealing with boys who wanted to try and prove their worth by coming after Tay but those threats had come from outside Brooklyn. Spot was not exactly on solid ground when it came to dealing with threats from within the borough. There had been the horrible night when Brighton had made their feelings known but Spot and Tay had both taken care of that issue.
"So you just expect me to stay in this apartment forever?" Tay asked him.
"I got some things that need settled. You can handle a few more days," Spot answered. He knew what he was asking of her. More than once he'd had to cut Tay off from the world but he told himself it was for her own good. The truth was that it was really for his own piece of mind and the always present thought that he could lose her. It was a risk he had never been willing to take. He'd already lost her once, he wasn't about to go through that again.
"Like I had to handle Race's daughter?" Every word was pointed and dripped with sarcasm. It was something she'd had to handle on her own and he knew she resented him for leaving her alone in that situation.
"You made it through okay," Spot answered dryly.
Tay pushed his hand out of her lap and twisted away to return to the inside of the apartment, leaving Spot to feel a curious ache in the vacant space where her body had leaned against his only moments before. He couldn't explain his constant need to try and push her away because he knew that whenever they were apart he couldn't stand not having her with him.
"Tay." She didn't even hesitate before disappearing into their bedroom and Spot sighed as he looked up to where the sunlight was beginning to streak across the sky. He could hear her rummaging around the apartment while he lit a cigarette and watched the street below come alive. It wasn't long before the street was crowded with a variety of people, pushcarts, and wagons carrying the day's necessities. Spot watched the kid on the corner hawking papers and pondered going down to buy the Sunday edition. He flicked his spent cigarette away and headed inside.
"The bread went stale," Tay told Spot without turning to look at him. She'd dressed in a blouse and skirt that he recognized from the night he'd found her after she'd hidden herself away in the shack by the river. Her hair was braided and the ribbon tied at the end was one he'd bought for her years ago. She'd never been as 'fashion-conscious' as some of the other girl newsies but Spot had never given it much thought other than buying her a ribbon here or there.
"Tay." He could tell she was angry by the way she held herself and he rubbed a hand over his face before he took a seat at the table. Tay finally turned and set the coffee pot down on the table with more force than was necessary but Spot let it pass.
"And you can take those when you go," she added and gestured at the soapbox at Spot's feet, filled to the brim with artificial forget-me-nots that Tay had been working on. It had been her own idea when Spot had forced her to stay in the apartment and he knew it was one of the few ways she was able to earn money.
"I'm not changing my mind," Spot told her.
"No one asked you to," Tay shot back.
"Unless I'm mistaken, doll, you asked me to do just that this morning." Spot wrapped his hand tightly around the mug in front of him and tried to keep a hold on his anger. Tay sat across from him with her own mug of coffee but she had pulled one knee up to her chest and rested her chin on it while gazing at anything in the room other than Spot.
"Two blocks," Tay offered quietly. Spot clenched his jaw together tightly and just glared across the table at her. "Please."
Long minutes ticked by while Spot found himself considered his alternatives. Keeping Tay contained was never easy and he had always borne the brunt of her rage at being confined. But he also recalled the number of times she had borne the brunt of his own rage.
"One block," Spot answered and Tay brightened but it wasn't for long. "And Finn goes with you."
"He won't want to be following me around," Tay frowned. "I'm sure you got better things for him to do."
"Finn is the only one I trust to keep you in line," Spot explained. "If you go running off on him, he'll either find you himself or let me know the minute you take off."
"I don't need a babysitter," Tay muttered.
"Nice try," Spot told her. "You got two choices, doll. Either you stay with Finn, or you can just keep staying inside."
Tay pulled the key out from inside her blouse and twisted it in her fingers while Spot waited for her to make her decision. Spot had offered to buy her any number of necklaces, fine things more beautiful than anything they'd seen on the streets but Tay had refused. The only ornament she wore was the key, hanging from the same leather cord he'd once worn around his own neck.
"Fine." Tay stood, coffee cup in hand, and disappeared back into the bedroom. Spot was left alone in the kitchen and as he sat there he wondered how long it would be before Tay made Finn's life absolutely miserable.
The water was ice-cold and just the sight of it had filled Tay with dread but she'd tried to remain calm. It was nothing new. It was equally as frightening but it wasn't new and she tried like hell to swallow every urge to scream and swear and cry. The tears rose to the surface despite her best efforts and she was almost grateful that they couldn't be seen with the water streaming down her hair and face. She tried to readjust her hands but the rope binding them together bit into her skin and she gave up.
"Now, cara, we're not going to try and run again, are we?"
Tay gritted her teeth and glared at the well-dressed man sitting in the nearby chair. A single lamp sat on the table and was the only illumination in the place. The air around Tay was thick and stale, causing her to want to retch even more. She spat in the general direction of the man and was pleased to see it land on the toe of his polished shoe. The corner of his mouth quivered slightly as he drew a handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaned her spit away with a look of disgust in his eyes.
"So very ill-mannered," the man commented as he replaced the handkerchief. He gestured to the laundry tub on the floor in front of where Tay had been forced to kneel. "Again, please, Antonio."
Tay inhaled sharply and her body began to betray her, trembling violently but that didn't seem to concern 'Antonio'. She held her breath for as long as she could but the man held her down for so long that she began to choke and a blackness began to envelop her.
"Once again, you've taken it too far," Tay barely heard the man say as she was dropped down onto the floor, coughing and gasping for air. Her vision was still blurry as she noticed the well polished shoes inches from her nose. Part of her readied for the blow she knew would follow but nothing happened. Instead the man prodded her with the tip of his shoe and Tay heard his voice come from somewhere above her. "Rest now, bambolina. Antonio will stay with you while we wait to see if your knight in shining armor ever appears."
How many days had it been? Tay bit her lip in pain as Antonio dragged her into a dark corner and deposited her on a filthy blanket that smelled of horses. She heard the stairs creak as the man went up and Antonio took a seat in the now vacant chair. Tay tried to slow her breathing as she pressed herself against the wall and kept an eye on the silent Antonio.
He would come for her, he had to. Didn't he? Tay felt tears beginning to form and she hated herself. When had tears ever solved anything for her? Why was her body constantly betraying her? She closed her eyes and tried to count back from one hundred but she lost track quickly and her mind returned to one person. Spot. It hadn't been her fault, did he understand that? All she had done was answer the door and before she could do anything her current nightmare began. Had he found the key? Leaving it behind was the only thing she could think of as she was forced to leave the apartment.
"I don't know what you're trying to do here, but it won't work," Tay told the man called Antonio but he remained silent, just staring at her with a look that she couldn't quite decipher. She tried again. "He don't care about me so this is a waste of time."
Tay pulled her knees in close and felt her eyes begin to grow heavy despite her best efforts to stay awake and alert. In the reformatory she'd grown used to sleeping while confined and although her current situation was slightly different she felt the same tormented thoughts consume her. Before she fell into a fitful sleep one belief sprung to mind. He wouldn't come for her, he hated her.
Author's Note: I know, I know. It's been done to death but here it is anyway :-) Happy reading!