Tay twisted the fork in her hand, tapping it against the edge of the plate as Jack slid into the booth across from her. He looked somewhat surprised and she noted a look of concern in his eyes as he studied her. She glanced across the room to where Spot sat with Sarah and turned her eyes back toward Jack.
"Spot said you had some questions for me," Jack told her as Tay set the fork down beside her plate. She would have offered him something to eat but that's what he had been doing when she sent Spot over to ask Jack to speak with her.
"I do," Tay explained. "You don't have to answer though, just so you know."
"Ask away," Jack answered. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette. "Mind if I smoke?"
Tay shook her head and went over the questions she wanted to ask. She wasn't that familiar with Jack and other than seeing him a few times here and there she hadn't really ever talked to him. He'd come to visit a few times before the strike and then again after everything was over but Spot had always kept her so isolated that she'd never really gotten to know the Manhattan leader. She had no idea if he was similar to Spot with his hiding information from her and so her expectations were fairly low.
"You came to see me in the train station," Tay began, deciding to start with the first thing she remembered about Jack's role in her kidnapping.
"We decided it might be best for me to be the one to go see you," Jack answered. "It was gonna be either me or Davey but Spot made it pretty clear that he'd rather I went, so that's what happened."
"Why didn't Spot come to see me?"
"He did, in a way. Let's just say he was ready to kill someone the minute you disappeared but between me and Race we talked him out of doing it right there in front of everyone. Believe me, kid, he was there and he would have ended it in a second if we hadn't talked him out of it. We just figured he'd do you a lot more good if he wasn't in prison or hanged for murder."
"I thought I heard him whistle but I just...I thought it was the drugs," Tay told him as she stared down at the surface of the table. Just talking about that moment was enough to send a shiver of fear up her spine.
"I don't know about that," Jack confessed. "But I know he saw you and both Davey and Race would tell you that. They had the bruises to show for it."
Tay glanced up to see a half-smile cross Jack's face and she wondered how he could always be so easy-going and flippant about things. She'd never seen him cross or frustrated and she found his friendly manner a little off-putting. It was what spurned her to get to her true purpose in asking to speak with him.
"You told me the man's name was Morelli. Is he dead?" Tay asked.
"Yes, he's dead."
"Did Spot kill him?"
Jack's eyes traveled across the room to the same place where Spot and Sarah sat engaged in conversation with one another. He opened his mouth to say something and then seemed to reconsider it.
"It ain't exactly for me to say, kid," Jack told her carefully.
"But you were there," Tay said as she thought back to when Spot had told her about Jack's presence at that mysterious meeting the night of the concert. She decided the intimate details of what happened that night would likely only come from Spot and so she decided to move on. "You're not in any trouble 'cause of me, are you?"
"None of this is your fault, Tay."
Tay wished she could believe Jack but she felt that it must have been her fault, she must have done something or made some kind of decision which led to everything that followed. It was bad enough realizing that Spot had once again put himself in jeopardy for her but she hated that Jack and Race and David had been dragged into her mess.
"Can you tell me...I mean, how did you find out who he was?"
"Race had more to do with that than I did. The newsies from around there always kept to themselves so I didn't really have a lot to go on but Race pulled some strings and got a game going. That's where we found out his name and where he was hiding out. Turns out he had been mouthing off about some Brooklyn girl he'd got a hold of and it trickled down to a few of the guys Race was playing poker with."
"Why did you get involved?"
Jack looked over at her and took a drag off the cigarette, letting it out slowly as he considered the question. Tay saw him glance over at Sarah quickly before he returned his attention to her.
"I would have done the same if anything like that happened to Sarah."
"What about that meeting the other night? I got free of him. I don't understand why he would agree to meet with Spot after that."
"He wasn't exactly given a choice, kid."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you remember Denton?" Jack waited until Tay shook her head. "He was, is, a reporter that helped us during the strike. A buddy of his worked the crime circuit and through him we found out Morelli had a boss who wasn't too happy when he heard about you. So it was this other guy that agreed to the meeting. Beyond that you're gonna need to ask Spot."
"I'm sorry, Jack. I never meant for you and Race and David to get involved in this mess."
"Tay, stop. We ain't kids anymore. We all made our decisions on our own and believe me, if you had seen Spot while you were gone you would understand why we decided to help."
"I didn't think he cared," Tay admitted in a low voice. She twisted her fingers together in her lap nervously. "We got in a fight a few days before that and I thought he'd blame me 'cause he talked about trying to protect me but I wouldn't listen. I thought he was just overreacting. Then that man came and it was just easier to believe Spot wasn't going to show up."
Tay wanted to bite her tongue in half but for some reason it was just a little bit easier to open up to Jack. She didn't really want to talk about anything that had happened but pieces just kept slipping out. She had heard about Jack's time in the Refuge and she understood that he had his own demons which made him a slightly more acceptable confidant.
"Can't say that I've ever really understood Spot and why he does things the way he does but I can tell you he cares about you more than you think."
Jack's eyes were kind and Tay wanted to believe him but a small piece of her held back. Her feelings for Spot had always been tumultuous and she reflected back on her belief that Spot was a broken puzzle she could never quite put together.
"Is that why you helped him? 'Cause you think he cares about me?"
"I know he cares about you," Jack corrected her.
"You realize he tried to sell me to you once? For twenty-five cents?"
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You really think he would have let that happen?"
"He tried telling me it was a joke," Tay answered.
"Like I said, I don't always understand the things he does. I do know that there were always stories about this Brooklyn girl that no one could come near unless they wanted their teeth rearranged. I also know that once you turned up at the lodging house he didn't leave your side for a second. He was out of his mind worrying about you."
Tay sat in silence for a long moment while Jack just continued to smoke his cigarette. There were any number of things that she wanted to say but not to Jack. She glanced over to where Spot sat with Sarah, causing a brief spark of jealousy that was quickly doused. She didn't want to dislike Sarah but she had always struggled with letting other people in. The other night at dinner had been difficult but it had turned out better than she had expected despite her worry about Spot. It seemed like they all meant to be kind but Tay still felt the need to hide herself away.
"Thank you, Jack. For everything." A moment after she got to her feet Spot was by her side, nodding once at Jack before following Tay out the door.
"Do you want to talk?"
"No."
The world around them was filled with noise and activity. Kids hawking papers and candy and gum with women bustling from one store to the next, buying groceries for that night's supper while trolleys roared by on their way to different parts of the city. But in that apartment, on that particular fire escape there was silence. Spot watched as Tay concentrated harder on the book she held but he knew her mind was far away. She hadn't turned the page in ages. He had already tried every conversation starter he could think of and it had all ended the same way, in silence. He glanced from where her pale hand held the book to the dark circles under her eyes. It was as though she was wasting away in front of him and he had no control over any of it. He didn't know what to say or do to make her come back to him.
"So, there was this real pretty lady once," Spot began. "The kind of pretty that made people stop and stare at her when she walked down the street. The kind of lady that deserves nothing but good in her life but she ended up falling for some bum that didn't deserve her."
Tay looked up briefly before returning to her book. Spot decided that was enough to continue.
"The bum she married didn't make a lot of dough so she started working as a seamstress. She worked for this real nice woman, making costumes and such. The lady she worked for was called Medda."
At the mention of that particular name Tay looked at him inquisitively, placing her finger on the page of the book to mark her place.
"Anyway, the man couldn't find work or at least that's what he told anyone who asked. So the pretty woman scrimps and saves, trying to keep her family from starving. By that time she had a kid, a boy. Rather than turning him out onto the streets she keeps him with her. The boy goes along while she fixes up costumes and dresses. Sometimes the lady manages to find a penny or two to spend on something frivolous and when that happens she tells her son that it will be their little secret."
"Who was the lady?" Tay asked.
Spot took a drag off his cigarette and blew the smoke up into the clear blue sky.
"Each time the lady manages to save a penny she takes her son to the candy store. Sometimes there is only enough for him to get a piece of candy, sometimes there is enough for both of them to buy a piece. The man makes things pretty difficult at home and so the woman and her son spend more and more time at the theater. One day, the woman tells her son that he is the one bright spot in her life. Whenever things get real bad she always tells her son the same thing, he is her bright spot. Pretty soon she starts calling him 'Spot' as a joke between them. As it turns out, the name sticks."
Tay gazed at him for a long moment as he flicked his cigarette ash to one side and looked back at her steadily. It was his last resort and part of him hoped like hell that it would work, or at least get her to talk about something.
"It was your mother," Tay said quietly. "That's where your name came from?"
"It ain't exactly something I like to talk about," Spot answered.
Tay let her book fall to one side and she shifted positions so she was sitting cross-legged across from him. She looked down at where she had her hands clasped in her lap and he noticed she trembled every so slightly. He wasn't sure what the next step should be and he wondered if he had gone too far in telling her about his mother. He hadn't meant to push her into anything and he hoped that she would see it that way.
"We don't have to talk," Spot told her before she could say anything. "I just figured you were always asking about it so I thought it was time you knew."
"Do you want to know why I chose my name?" There was the briefest hint of a smile but it faded as quickly as it came. "It's really silly."
"It's up to you, doll."
"I had a little sister, Mary, and she couldn't say the letter s. She was always wanting to go with us whenever Bridget or Kieran or I went out and she'd tug at my dress, telling me to 'tay' with her. She was four when I left." Tay met his eyes for a split second before dropping her gaze down to her lap again. "I told you it was dumb."
"It's better than people thinking you were named after a dog," Spot joked.
There was a long moment of silence and Spot kept his eyes on Tay as she stared at the building across from them although Spot was fairly sure she wasn't really looking at anything in particular.
"Did you kill him?" Tay asked quietly.
Spot took a breath and considered all the possible answers. He decided to go with the truth. "Yes."
"I told Race to stop you. I told myself that I didn't want him to die. I wanted it to be over." Tay glanced at him quickly and then looked away. Her voice was shaking when she spoke. "But when I was in that basement, I told him I wanted him to die. I wanted him to die, Spot."
A tear trickled down her cheek and he found himself holding his breath, unsure of whether he should say anything or just let her continue.
"I didn't want to go with him. I couldn't think of what to do. I just panicked 'cause he had a gun and the other man was with him and I was so scared that I couldn't even fight or anything." Tay's voice trailed off and Spot immediately felt anguish as he realized she was blaming herself.
"Anna, there was nothing you could do," he told her. "It's not your fault."
"But I must have done something or said something 'cause he knew everything, Liam. You always told me to be careful about being followed but I never saw him. I didn't see him coming."
"No one saw him coming and that's my fault. I should have known better. People have tried to come after you before, I should have been there to protect you."
The look of pain in her eyes reminded him of that awful night he'd found her bloodied and broken in an alley near the Navy Yard. She'd lost everything that night and he reflected on how much damage he had done to her over the years. He inched closer to her until they were sitting knee to knee and he took her hands in his, trying not to notice that she flinched when he touched her.
"I didn't think you were coming," Tay said quietly. "He thought he could use me against you and that you'd show up looking for me but I told myself you didn't care. It was just...just easier that way. I thought maybe he would change his mind and let me go. I tried to run...I tried to fight...I just…"
"It's okay, doll."
She met his eyes for a brief moment before her gaze flitted around the small space never really settling on anything. He didn't want to push her and yet he hoped she would be able to at least let some of her pain out the way she had the night she'd told him what had happened at the reformatory. That night had involved a lot of whisky and ended with her in tears and he had a feeling their conversation would end the same way. He hated when she cried, he always had. She was broken because he had broken her and her tears were always a reminder of that fact.
"There was a window and so I tried to run but his man caught me. After that, they nailed the window shut and boarded it up. It was so dark and there were rats, I could hear them at night like when we lived near the docks. It was so dark, Spot…" Tay's voice trailed off and she tried to pull her hands away but he held tight. He knew the dark had always bothered her since their time in the Refuge. "He had his man try to drown me, he forced me into the water and held me down until I thought I was going to die. I didn't try to run after that."
Her breathing had grown ragged and she reached up to wipe a tear away. Her hands were shaking in his and he rubbed at the tips of her fingers in the same way he always had. He had never seen her quite so broken, at least not since the night she'd had the miscarriage. For the first time in a long time he was unsure of what to say or do. She was an open wound and he had no idea how to heal her.
"You don't have to do this, Anna."
Tay shook her head. "It's like you said, it'll mess with you."
"I understand if you don't want to talk though."
"I want to tell you, I just don't know if I can talk about it."
"What if it was someone else you could talk to? Like Jacobs or Race's wife?" He realized his mistake the moment the suggestion left his lips as Tay just scoffed at the idea.
"I don't know them," Tay told him.
"Okay, doll." He studied her while she kept her eyes down, concentrating on where their hands were linked together in her lap. He had briefly thought that another woman might be able to help her open up but he also realized she'd grown even more resistant to the mere presence of outsiders and likely wouldn't open up to anyone but him.
"It didn't get real bad until after the meeting," Tay explained quietly. "Up until then it wasn't anything I couldn't handle…"
Spot cringed inwardly as he understood that she'd been able to handle abuse because of the way he had treated her. It would have been nothing new and he felt nothing but shame about that fact.
"Anna-" he started to say but Tay just shook her head.
"He told me he wanted to hurt you, to make you suffer and so he told me that if he hurt me, then it would hurt you. After I saw Jack, after that...he started...I tried to fight but I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything. I wanted to fight, I tried to...he gave me drugs...I tried so hard…"
Her words trailed off and were replaced by broken sobs as Spot gathered her into his arms and held her shaking form. If Morelli wasn't already dead, he would have gone to kill him in an instant. It broke his heart to hear her talk about trying to fight like she had somehow done something wrong.
"It wasn't your fault, Anna," he told her as she pressed her face against his chest. There were so many things he wanted to tell her but nothing sounded right, nothing sounded like it would have done her the least bit of good. He thought about how Morelli's death had relieved some of his frustration but that his death had meant little to nothing to Tay. There had been so many times in her life that he had seen her left broken and carrying scars that would always be with her.
"I wanted to die," Tay admitted in a voice so low that Spot had to bend his head down to hear her. "I thought it would be easier if I just closed my eyes and waited for it to be over. He whispered things to me, horrible things that I can still hear. I can still feel him, Liam. I just want it to stop."
Her skin was flushed and her breathing was too quick as she clung to him, trembling in his arms. He'd been scared before despite the common belief that Spot Conlon could not feel fear. Each time his fear had been tied to Tay and he was once again at a loss as to how to help her. He'd done the one thing that had made him feel better but he felt a rock settle into his stomach as he listened to her.
"You're okay, doll. I'm right here," Spot told her quietly. "Just breathe."
Time passed slowly and it wasn't until the sun was beginning to set that Tay was able to let go of Spot and sat across from him with her knees pulled up to her chest. Her skin was no longer flush, making the dark circles under her eyes stand out even more. She couldn't meet his eyes and stared down at the street below, still busy with crowds.
"Jack told me that he was at that meeting with you. He said he wasn't the one to talk about what happened. Will you tell me?"
"Do you want me to?" He had been surprised the other day when she'd asked to speak to Jack alone and she hadn't said much about what she and Jack had discussed afterwards.
"I think so," Tay told him softly. "I know he's dead and maybe that's all you want to tell me about it. I know you've told me before to stay out of your business."
"This is different, doll. I shouldn't have kept you in the dark before. Maybe none of this would have happened if I had-"
"I don't blame you, Liam. You keep saying it wasn't my fault, well it wasn't your fault either."
"Doll, everything that has happened to you is my fault and I'm sorry. I don't know how to make it right but I want to. Part of me thought killing him would make it right. I just...I didn't know what else to do."
"Jack said the man had a boss who wasn't happy when he heard about what happened to me. Why would he care?"
"It turned out you were right when you said he didn't play by the rules. Some of the Italians have a rule, no women or children and Morelli's boss happened to be one of those who followed that rule."
"Why did you take Jack with you?"
"I needed a second or a witness. Mostly in case things went south but also to be there when I made my deal with Morelli's boss."
"The deal you said was to protect me?" Tay waited until Spot nodded. She held out her hand. "Can I have a cigarette?"
He pulled his case out of his pocket and offered her one, watching her hands tremble as she tried to strike the match. He took it out of her hand and lit the match cleanly, putting it to the end of the cigarette as she held it. They were both surviving on little more than whisky and cigarettes and anger.
"You ain't gotta worry about anyone coming after you anymore," Spot explained. "At least not from the Italians. It turns out they weren't interested in starting anything with the Irish and I made an agreement to stay out of it if they made a play for the waterfront. So it's settled."
"But the waterfront…"
Spot just shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I ain't been down there much anyway, not since...don't worry about it, doll."
The truth was he hadn't spent much time in that area since Tay had left and been sent to the reformatory. He'd only returned to collect their things which he transferred to the attic room he occupied in the lodging house until he'd managed to scrape up enough for his own place. In Tay's absence he'd become self-destructive, taking on jobs that involved putting himself in harm's way but paid well. Since her return he had been more particular about the jobs he would take. There was always trouble brewing between the Irish and Italians although he had been surprised when that trouble had shown up on his doorstep. He was Irish but he worked for himself, keeping careful company and never relying on anyone else. The idea of giving up the waterfront didn't bother him, he'd done his time there and if he had to give it up to save Tay, so be it. He supposed the outcome could have been much worse.
Spot watched Tay smoking for a brief moment. "There's something else we have to talk about."
"You have to go back to work," Tay said with a sigh. He was reminded of how well she knew him.
"It will be okay. This is a better neighborhood and I made sure to find out the names of everyone in the building. I'll be back by the time it gets dark."
He understood it was pointless to even try to calm her fears about what would happen when the door closed behind him. But the problem was they needed money and things would only get worse if he didn't take a job.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He was so tired. They were both exhausted. It had been weeks of sleepless nights that had left them both on edge. He felt Tay's fingers brush his hair off his forehead, traveling lightly over his neck and down his arm to his hand. She drew the tips of her fingers over his palm, drawing invisible patterns.
"See anything?" he kidded, opening his eyes to look at her.
She tilted her head to one side and smiled at him. "Chaos."
Author's Note: Ta da! The longest conversation I think those two have ever had...whew! It was difficult and I hope it will not disappoint. I realize this conversation didn't really move the story forward so my apologies if you hate it. Also, I have no idea where the origin stories for their names came from. Yes, Tay is named (in my mind) after a river in Scotland...her choice of name for the story sake just came out different. As for Spot...I realize it's a dumb idea but I just thought it might be nice if it had something to do with his family. There are lots of theories out there and if this one isn't your cup of tea I know there are some much better ideas out there :-)
Shout-out to Anna_W for her amazing reviews! She makes me think and question and hopefully I haven't failed her!
Also, I just wanted to do a shout-out to the anonymous guest that has left me two reviews on my stories. I've never known that particular reader to be able to say thank you so I'll say it here (in case they followed me to this story): Thank You! Your choosing to review my story made my heart soar!
As always - reviews are welcome and appreciated! Enjoy!