DISCALIMER: Yada, yada, yada. Newsies belong to Disney. Phoenix, Salsa, and
Clue belong to me, though! Muah ha! Oh, and so does Crow! And Doctor
Reynald too! And Blackjack too! And Runner! And Bricks!
A.N. Awww, stop throwing potatoes at me! It's not my fault I couldn't update sooner. I really tried to! But I never got the chance, what with school and all. Please don't stop the reviews from coming, though! I would really like to break a hundred. We're only 18 reviews away! We can do it! Enjoy this chapter!
Sugar and Spice and A Little Bit of Vice
Spot entered the small room quietly as to not disturb the young boy who was sleeping at peace on a bunk. The boy's bright blonde hair fell over his closed eyes and his small hands folded over his chest as he rested. Spot relaxed into a nearby chair and stared at his messenger newsie hard and long.
Poor kid, he thought. He nearly got the life beatin outta him because of me. They could've soaked him woise than this. I aint doing too good of a job at lookin out fer me boys.... Spot sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in contemplation.
"Heya Conlon," a voice said weakly.
Spot looked up and smiled. "Heya Runner. How is youse holdin up?"
"I'm doing alright. Me arm hoits like hell though. I don't think this brace that Bricks made is woikin too well. The bone still feels crooked."
"Listen Run, I'se sorry that this happened tah youse," Spot said. "I swear I'll break off the legs of the guys who did it."
Runner laughed and coughed in between the chuckles. "Youse were gunna soak the bum anyways, weren't youse? I mean, he's only the number one person on yer hate list."
"What are youse talkin about? I knows him?"
"Of coise!" Runner closed his eyes as the pain in his arm increased. "It's that one scab, ya know? The one youse exiled."
"I'se exiled alotta newsies," Spot said, leaning in closer. "Which one was it?" Spot tried to remain calm but he was losing his patience more and more as the seconds passed. Waiting to hear the name of the newsies that broke him and Phoenix apart filled him with much anxiousness and he thought he might yell if Runner did not give him an answer any time soon.
"Well it wasn't just him....."
"Just tell me who did most the talkin and who hoit Phoenix and youse."
Runner bit his lip and groaned. "I think I'se need tah see a doctor er sumthin, Spot. This arm is killin me."
Spot managed a smile despite the annoyance that was growing within him. "I'll see about getting youse one. Now, the guy's name please?"
"Oh yea, Blackjack. I'se hoid one kid call him Blackjack."
Spot ran out of the room an instant later, his eyes flaming in immeasurable rage. It only took that one name to get him in the mood for paying out vengeance.
* * * * *
"Wheah's Jack?" Spot asked Clue that night at the show Medda was holding especially for newsies.
Clue looked up at him with sad eyes and frowned. "He's wid her, Spot. And look, youse would think they's were in love!"
"Don't worry about that tramp, I told youse. I'll take care of it." Spot strode over to Jack and Sarah with that trademark air of leadership about him and tapped on his best friend's shoulder. "Excuse me, Jacky-boy, but I'se gots to talk tah youse."
"Hi Spot!" Sarah leaned forward to give the Brooklyn leader a hug in greeting, but Spot stepped back and only looked at her blankly.
Jack seemed embarrassed. "Spot, what's yer problem?"
"I said I needs tah talk tah youse. Now." Spot crossed his arms and gave his friend a look that warned the other not to question him any more. Jack took the cue and followed the Brooklyn leader to a corner of the room.
"Okay," Jack spat out once they were alone. "What do youse need tah say?"
Spot smirked. "Why aint youse wid Clue?"
"That's what youse called me over heah for?! Ya know why I aint wid her! We'se broke up. She's constantly wondering whether my actions have double meanings and I'se tired of her being so insecure. So we'se ended it."
"But she still loves ya, Jacky-boy, and I'se suggest youse make up wid her before I find the need tah rearrange someone's face, even if they's a goil." Spot motioned towards Sarah and raised an eyebrow. "I don't care if she's Davey's sister. She gets on me nerves too much."
Jack scratched the back of his neck in uncertainty. If Clue had wanted to talk to him, why had she run away at Central Park the other day when he was calling her name? He saw her then, sitting alone while everyone else was dancing in pairs, and he felt miserable all over again. He could not even comprehend why he had let their argument get in they way of his love for her.
"Youse intend on talkin tah her or is youse gunna stand there like a dumbass?"
"What's it tah youse? Youse havin a bad day er sumthin? Been actin all pissy throughout the whole party. Wheah's yer goil, Phoenix?"
Spot glared at him. "Stay outta that business and go talk tah Clue already."
Jack wanted to ask Spot what all the bitterness was about, but he dared not flare the younger newsie's obvious temper. Instead, he began walking towards Clue, trying not to meet her gaze until he was right before her.
"Hey," he uttered softly as he sat beside her.
Clue gave him a small smile. "Hiya."
"Ya know, I would ask youse how it's been going lately, but I'se shoah youse been fine, since ya had Blink and all tah fall back on. Both of ya seem tah have gotten real close since we'se broke up."
"Nuthin was going on between us," she replied. "We'se is just friends."
"Oh." Jack looked at Spot for support but the Brooklyn leader was already gone from the area they had just been occupying a minute earlier. "Well, I dunno wut tah say really, Clue. Ya see me wid Sarah and all, but I'se never loved her as much as I love youse. I'se never loved anyone that much! Yer me number one goil, me only goil, and when we'se broke up, I felt like....nuthin!"
Clue played with a strand of her hair and blushed. "Youse kiddin?"
"No! It's the honest truth. Don't youse feel the same way?" Jack stared at her, trying to find any sign that she did, but he could not see one. Only the words that came out of her mouth would determine their fate.
"Of coise!" She burst out in sudden happiness. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a tight hug. "I love youse, Jack Kelly, and I'se sorry fer ever doubting youse."
Jack hugged the girl back with a wide smile, coming through her hair with his fingers and planting a kiss on her cheek. Things were so unpredictable sometimes! He figured they both had just needed time to blow over steam. "So does this mean we'se back together?"
"Well, there's the problem of Sarah over there." Clue pointed over to the higher-class girl who was making her way through large crowds in an effort to find Jack.
"Come on!" Jack grabbed Clue's hand and ran for the nearest exit. When they were outside in the cool night air, he draped his arm over her shoulders and held her close. "Okay, how about now?"
Clue answered him by stopping in her tracks and pulling Jack downwards for a quick kiss. "Yea, I guess we is back together. And I promise youse I won't get jealous or anything. I guess I just aint used tah people feelin love fer me. But I'se can adapt tah the feeling. Especially when youse'll be heah tah help."
Jack smiled and they kissed again. "I love youse, goil, and ya better not be in doubt about that, ever!"
"Oh yea? What are youse gunna do if I am?"
"Let's go tah the lodging house and I'll show youse." With a sly grin on his face, he picked her up in his arms, and carried her the rest of the way to their destination.
* * * * *
"Damn, Spot! Youse got four of a kind again?! Ya cheater!" Race threw his hand of cards onto the table and grumbled something about how he could not believe he was losing.
"Ah, c'mon, Race. Don't be a sore loser." Spot laughed and collected his winnings proudly. Someone offered him a drag from their cigarette but he turned it down with a shake of his head as a particular newsie caught his eye.
"Youse in fer another game?" Race asked him as he dealt out five cards to each player at the table.
Spot rose from his seat and stood on his toes to see the newsie above the heads of others gathered around. Then, the newsie turned around, and when his eyes met with those of Spot, he took off scared as all hell. Spot jumped onto his poker table and dashed across the room, screaming obscenities as loud as he could, raising his cane above his head as if he were a Neanderthal with a club who wanted to kill something. "COME BACK HEAH, YA LOUSY BASTARD!!!"
Medda stopped singing and all those in the theatre turned their heads to see the Brooklyn leader shoving people out of his way and turning over objects that blocked his path. "STOP THAT SCAB!" Spot ordered one of his Brooklyn newsies. However, the order was not necessary, for soon, Spot was right behind his prey and he grabbed the boy's shirt and pulled him back to face him. Of all the people who could have the audacity to get on Spot's nerves, it would undoubtedly be Blackjack. "What the hell is youse doing heah?"
"Everyone is invited tah Medda's," Blackjack retorted. "Ya can't keep me outta all of New Yawk."
"I can keep you outta wherever I DAMN WELL PLEASE!" Spot threw him six feet away into a stack of chairs and then tackled him onto the floor where he started to strangle the newsie. "This is the last time youse walk into me life like this. Ya ruined everything I'se ever held valuable in me life!"
Blackjack punched Spot in the jaw and pushed the other off him. "Youse talkin bout that goil of yers? Ha, she was quite a pleasure, Conlon. Thanks fer sendin her my way."
Spot seized Blackjack by his shoulders and rammed the boy into a wall. "Youse is DEAD!" He glanced to his right and the cool shimmer of dinner utensils gleamed in his angry eyes. Perfect, he thought. If I'se gunna moider him, might as well do it without gettin blood on me own hands. He reached for the knife atop a half-eaten steak on someone's dinner plate and held it up to Blackjack's throat.
"Whoa, mutt! Aint this a bit harsh!?"
"Oh, and raping me goil wasn't?" Spot gave him a violent look. "I never thought I had it in me tah kill a person, until youse came around. I'se gunna do this nice and slow, so youse can suffer just like Phoenix did."
"Spot," someone called from behind. "This is crazy! Put that knife down before someone runs for the bulls. Youse can get life in prison fer this crap!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Spot was out of control now and nothing was going to stop him from doing what his insanity bid right. "The damn jackass deserves what's coming tah him, so just stay outta me fuckin business, ALRIGHT!?"
Blackjack's eyes grew wide. "Listen, Conlon, I'se sorry about everything! Listen, I'll even go tah another state if youse want me tah! Far away, like tah California! Just, don't do this, Spot! I'se don't wanna die."
Spot smiled sardonically. "Were youse sorry when ya broke me messenger's arm or when youse fixed him so he has tah see a doctor now? Were youse sorry when ya beat me goil wid a glass bottle or when youse took advantage of her? Were youse FUCKIN SORRY WHEN YOUSE KILLED ME UNBORN BABY?!!"
A void of silence engulfed the entirety of Medda's place. Everyone understood now, at least those who had known of Spot's future parenthood. He had been so thrilled about the news, yet upon hearing that someone had taken that joy from him, had stolen it and took away its life, their minds turned to hatred as well. Soon, all of Spot's friends were cheering heartlessly, urging him to do away with Blackjack.
"Seems like youse aint got no supporters, Blackjack," Spot hissed. "Looks like everyone wants yer sorry ass dead. And I aint one tah displease the masses." Spot pressed the blade of the knife against Blackjack's neck, drawing a string of blood. "Don't worry, though. I'se only gunna take ten minutes or so tah kill ya. Shouldn't be that painful."
Blackjack winced at the sarcasm. There was no way out of this now. Spot had a firm hold on his body and even if he could escape, the newsies were huddled on all sides to prevent his escape. If Spot did not kill him, they certainly would. "Can't we'se talk about this? I mean, we'se talkin about death heah!"
Spot shrugged. "Me kid couldn't stop youse tah ask if youse wanted tah talk about what youse were doing." He pressed the blade closer; more blood trickled out of the small wound being formed and Blackjack gasped.
Blackjack could only think of one thing. If he could upset Spot into madness, the leader of Brooklyn just might stab him and the death would come instantly. At least it would be better than suffering at the hands of a youth he hated. "Well, alls I can say is that ya might as well live wid the fact that yer goil left youse. Cause she left youse didn't she?"
"What are youse talkin about?" Spot pulled back the knife a bit.
"It doesn't take too much tah guess that she left youse. And I know why. When me and her were at it the other day, I'se gave her sumthin youse could never give her. Secretly, she wanted me more than she would ever want youse. So she left ya, in hopes of finding me. But I'se aint into trailer trash that much. She should've know I was just havin me fun wid her."
Spot raised the knife and cut a scar across Blackjack's cheek with an echoing yell. "YA BASTARD! Youse wish that was true! This aint worth me time. Ya want a quick death, don't youse? Well I'll give ya yer fuckin quick death." Spot snatched both the boy's wrists and turned them in one quick motion that made the bones crack with a loud snap and that made Blackjack scream in pain. Spot was not done, however. He was too good a fighter to let it go at that. He flung Blackjack onto a table and dealt him a few blows to the face with his cane, turning the boy's face from light beige to a dark purple. "And now youse want yer quick death, right?"
Everyone backed away as Spot retrieved the knife he had been using before and placed its point at Blackjack's chest. "I hope youse burn in hell, ya dumbfuck." And just as he brought back his hand to gain leverage, someone touched his back from behind ever so lightly that he flinched and spun around wildly. The knife he was to use against his worse enemy fell from his fingers in that moment, the sound of clanging metal being the only noise in the room.
Spot almost could not pronounce the name of the person standing before him. Eventually, it all came together-his emotions and his wit-and he blinked once to wash away the mirage he thought he was seeing. But it was no illusion. His heart raced and finally the name came. "Phoenix..."
More To Come! C'mon everyone, let's REVIEW now! SUBMIT REVIEW TIME HAS ARRIVED. And all ya have to do to participate is CLICK that cute pretty BUTTON down there and SUBMIT A REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! If you read this chapter, PLEASE REVIEW it! I want to break 100! WE CAN DO IT! REVIEW! LOVE YA ALL!
A.N. Awww, stop throwing potatoes at me! It's not my fault I couldn't update sooner. I really tried to! But I never got the chance, what with school and all. Please don't stop the reviews from coming, though! I would really like to break a hundred. We're only 18 reviews away! We can do it! Enjoy this chapter!
Sugar and Spice and A Little Bit of Vice
Spot entered the small room quietly as to not disturb the young boy who was sleeping at peace on a bunk. The boy's bright blonde hair fell over his closed eyes and his small hands folded over his chest as he rested. Spot relaxed into a nearby chair and stared at his messenger newsie hard and long.
Poor kid, he thought. He nearly got the life beatin outta him because of me. They could've soaked him woise than this. I aint doing too good of a job at lookin out fer me boys.... Spot sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in contemplation.
"Heya Conlon," a voice said weakly.
Spot looked up and smiled. "Heya Runner. How is youse holdin up?"
"I'm doing alright. Me arm hoits like hell though. I don't think this brace that Bricks made is woikin too well. The bone still feels crooked."
"Listen Run, I'se sorry that this happened tah youse," Spot said. "I swear I'll break off the legs of the guys who did it."
Runner laughed and coughed in between the chuckles. "Youse were gunna soak the bum anyways, weren't youse? I mean, he's only the number one person on yer hate list."
"What are youse talkin about? I knows him?"
"Of coise!" Runner closed his eyes as the pain in his arm increased. "It's that one scab, ya know? The one youse exiled."
"I'se exiled alotta newsies," Spot said, leaning in closer. "Which one was it?" Spot tried to remain calm but he was losing his patience more and more as the seconds passed. Waiting to hear the name of the newsies that broke him and Phoenix apart filled him with much anxiousness and he thought he might yell if Runner did not give him an answer any time soon.
"Well it wasn't just him....."
"Just tell me who did most the talkin and who hoit Phoenix and youse."
Runner bit his lip and groaned. "I think I'se need tah see a doctor er sumthin, Spot. This arm is killin me."
Spot managed a smile despite the annoyance that was growing within him. "I'll see about getting youse one. Now, the guy's name please?"
"Oh yea, Blackjack. I'se hoid one kid call him Blackjack."
Spot ran out of the room an instant later, his eyes flaming in immeasurable rage. It only took that one name to get him in the mood for paying out vengeance.
* * * * *
"Wheah's Jack?" Spot asked Clue that night at the show Medda was holding especially for newsies.
Clue looked up at him with sad eyes and frowned. "He's wid her, Spot. And look, youse would think they's were in love!"
"Don't worry about that tramp, I told youse. I'll take care of it." Spot strode over to Jack and Sarah with that trademark air of leadership about him and tapped on his best friend's shoulder. "Excuse me, Jacky-boy, but I'se gots to talk tah youse."
"Hi Spot!" Sarah leaned forward to give the Brooklyn leader a hug in greeting, but Spot stepped back and only looked at her blankly.
Jack seemed embarrassed. "Spot, what's yer problem?"
"I said I needs tah talk tah youse. Now." Spot crossed his arms and gave his friend a look that warned the other not to question him any more. Jack took the cue and followed the Brooklyn leader to a corner of the room.
"Okay," Jack spat out once they were alone. "What do youse need tah say?"
Spot smirked. "Why aint youse wid Clue?"
"That's what youse called me over heah for?! Ya know why I aint wid her! We'se broke up. She's constantly wondering whether my actions have double meanings and I'se tired of her being so insecure. So we'se ended it."
"But she still loves ya, Jacky-boy, and I'se suggest youse make up wid her before I find the need tah rearrange someone's face, even if they's a goil." Spot motioned towards Sarah and raised an eyebrow. "I don't care if she's Davey's sister. She gets on me nerves too much."
Jack scratched the back of his neck in uncertainty. If Clue had wanted to talk to him, why had she run away at Central Park the other day when he was calling her name? He saw her then, sitting alone while everyone else was dancing in pairs, and he felt miserable all over again. He could not even comprehend why he had let their argument get in they way of his love for her.
"Youse intend on talkin tah her or is youse gunna stand there like a dumbass?"
"What's it tah youse? Youse havin a bad day er sumthin? Been actin all pissy throughout the whole party. Wheah's yer goil, Phoenix?"
Spot glared at him. "Stay outta that business and go talk tah Clue already."
Jack wanted to ask Spot what all the bitterness was about, but he dared not flare the younger newsie's obvious temper. Instead, he began walking towards Clue, trying not to meet her gaze until he was right before her.
"Hey," he uttered softly as he sat beside her.
Clue gave him a small smile. "Hiya."
"Ya know, I would ask youse how it's been going lately, but I'se shoah youse been fine, since ya had Blink and all tah fall back on. Both of ya seem tah have gotten real close since we'se broke up."
"Nuthin was going on between us," she replied. "We'se is just friends."
"Oh." Jack looked at Spot for support but the Brooklyn leader was already gone from the area they had just been occupying a minute earlier. "Well, I dunno wut tah say really, Clue. Ya see me wid Sarah and all, but I'se never loved her as much as I love youse. I'se never loved anyone that much! Yer me number one goil, me only goil, and when we'se broke up, I felt like....nuthin!"
Clue played with a strand of her hair and blushed. "Youse kiddin?"
"No! It's the honest truth. Don't youse feel the same way?" Jack stared at her, trying to find any sign that she did, but he could not see one. Only the words that came out of her mouth would determine their fate.
"Of coise!" She burst out in sudden happiness. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a tight hug. "I love youse, Jack Kelly, and I'se sorry fer ever doubting youse."
Jack hugged the girl back with a wide smile, coming through her hair with his fingers and planting a kiss on her cheek. Things were so unpredictable sometimes! He figured they both had just needed time to blow over steam. "So does this mean we'se back together?"
"Well, there's the problem of Sarah over there." Clue pointed over to the higher-class girl who was making her way through large crowds in an effort to find Jack.
"Come on!" Jack grabbed Clue's hand and ran for the nearest exit. When they were outside in the cool night air, he draped his arm over her shoulders and held her close. "Okay, how about now?"
Clue answered him by stopping in her tracks and pulling Jack downwards for a quick kiss. "Yea, I guess we is back together. And I promise youse I won't get jealous or anything. I guess I just aint used tah people feelin love fer me. But I'se can adapt tah the feeling. Especially when youse'll be heah tah help."
Jack smiled and they kissed again. "I love youse, goil, and ya better not be in doubt about that, ever!"
"Oh yea? What are youse gunna do if I am?"
"Let's go tah the lodging house and I'll show youse." With a sly grin on his face, he picked her up in his arms, and carried her the rest of the way to their destination.
* * * * *
"Damn, Spot! Youse got four of a kind again?! Ya cheater!" Race threw his hand of cards onto the table and grumbled something about how he could not believe he was losing.
"Ah, c'mon, Race. Don't be a sore loser." Spot laughed and collected his winnings proudly. Someone offered him a drag from their cigarette but he turned it down with a shake of his head as a particular newsie caught his eye.
"Youse in fer another game?" Race asked him as he dealt out five cards to each player at the table.
Spot rose from his seat and stood on his toes to see the newsie above the heads of others gathered around. Then, the newsie turned around, and when his eyes met with those of Spot, he took off scared as all hell. Spot jumped onto his poker table and dashed across the room, screaming obscenities as loud as he could, raising his cane above his head as if he were a Neanderthal with a club who wanted to kill something. "COME BACK HEAH, YA LOUSY BASTARD!!!"
Medda stopped singing and all those in the theatre turned their heads to see the Brooklyn leader shoving people out of his way and turning over objects that blocked his path. "STOP THAT SCAB!" Spot ordered one of his Brooklyn newsies. However, the order was not necessary, for soon, Spot was right behind his prey and he grabbed the boy's shirt and pulled him back to face him. Of all the people who could have the audacity to get on Spot's nerves, it would undoubtedly be Blackjack. "What the hell is youse doing heah?"
"Everyone is invited tah Medda's," Blackjack retorted. "Ya can't keep me outta all of New Yawk."
"I can keep you outta wherever I DAMN WELL PLEASE!" Spot threw him six feet away into a stack of chairs and then tackled him onto the floor where he started to strangle the newsie. "This is the last time youse walk into me life like this. Ya ruined everything I'se ever held valuable in me life!"
Blackjack punched Spot in the jaw and pushed the other off him. "Youse talkin bout that goil of yers? Ha, she was quite a pleasure, Conlon. Thanks fer sendin her my way."
Spot seized Blackjack by his shoulders and rammed the boy into a wall. "Youse is DEAD!" He glanced to his right and the cool shimmer of dinner utensils gleamed in his angry eyes. Perfect, he thought. If I'se gunna moider him, might as well do it without gettin blood on me own hands. He reached for the knife atop a half-eaten steak on someone's dinner plate and held it up to Blackjack's throat.
"Whoa, mutt! Aint this a bit harsh!?"
"Oh, and raping me goil wasn't?" Spot gave him a violent look. "I never thought I had it in me tah kill a person, until youse came around. I'se gunna do this nice and slow, so youse can suffer just like Phoenix did."
"Spot," someone called from behind. "This is crazy! Put that knife down before someone runs for the bulls. Youse can get life in prison fer this crap!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Spot was out of control now and nothing was going to stop him from doing what his insanity bid right. "The damn jackass deserves what's coming tah him, so just stay outta me fuckin business, ALRIGHT!?"
Blackjack's eyes grew wide. "Listen, Conlon, I'se sorry about everything! Listen, I'll even go tah another state if youse want me tah! Far away, like tah California! Just, don't do this, Spot! I'se don't wanna die."
Spot smiled sardonically. "Were youse sorry when ya broke me messenger's arm or when youse fixed him so he has tah see a doctor now? Were youse sorry when ya beat me goil wid a glass bottle or when youse took advantage of her? Were youse FUCKIN SORRY WHEN YOUSE KILLED ME UNBORN BABY?!!"
A void of silence engulfed the entirety of Medda's place. Everyone understood now, at least those who had known of Spot's future parenthood. He had been so thrilled about the news, yet upon hearing that someone had taken that joy from him, had stolen it and took away its life, their minds turned to hatred as well. Soon, all of Spot's friends were cheering heartlessly, urging him to do away with Blackjack.
"Seems like youse aint got no supporters, Blackjack," Spot hissed. "Looks like everyone wants yer sorry ass dead. And I aint one tah displease the masses." Spot pressed the blade of the knife against Blackjack's neck, drawing a string of blood. "Don't worry, though. I'se only gunna take ten minutes or so tah kill ya. Shouldn't be that painful."
Blackjack winced at the sarcasm. There was no way out of this now. Spot had a firm hold on his body and even if he could escape, the newsies were huddled on all sides to prevent his escape. If Spot did not kill him, they certainly would. "Can't we'se talk about this? I mean, we'se talkin about death heah!"
Spot shrugged. "Me kid couldn't stop youse tah ask if youse wanted tah talk about what youse were doing." He pressed the blade closer; more blood trickled out of the small wound being formed and Blackjack gasped.
Blackjack could only think of one thing. If he could upset Spot into madness, the leader of Brooklyn just might stab him and the death would come instantly. At least it would be better than suffering at the hands of a youth he hated. "Well, alls I can say is that ya might as well live wid the fact that yer goil left youse. Cause she left youse didn't she?"
"What are youse talkin about?" Spot pulled back the knife a bit.
"It doesn't take too much tah guess that she left youse. And I know why. When me and her were at it the other day, I'se gave her sumthin youse could never give her. Secretly, she wanted me more than she would ever want youse. So she left ya, in hopes of finding me. But I'se aint into trailer trash that much. She should've know I was just havin me fun wid her."
Spot raised the knife and cut a scar across Blackjack's cheek with an echoing yell. "YA BASTARD! Youse wish that was true! This aint worth me time. Ya want a quick death, don't youse? Well I'll give ya yer fuckin quick death." Spot snatched both the boy's wrists and turned them in one quick motion that made the bones crack with a loud snap and that made Blackjack scream in pain. Spot was not done, however. He was too good a fighter to let it go at that. He flung Blackjack onto a table and dealt him a few blows to the face with his cane, turning the boy's face from light beige to a dark purple. "And now youse want yer quick death, right?"
Everyone backed away as Spot retrieved the knife he had been using before and placed its point at Blackjack's chest. "I hope youse burn in hell, ya dumbfuck." And just as he brought back his hand to gain leverage, someone touched his back from behind ever so lightly that he flinched and spun around wildly. The knife he was to use against his worse enemy fell from his fingers in that moment, the sound of clanging metal being the only noise in the room.
Spot almost could not pronounce the name of the person standing before him. Eventually, it all came together-his emotions and his wit-and he blinked once to wash away the mirage he thought he was seeing. But it was no illusion. His heart raced and finally the name came. "Phoenix..."
More To Come! C'mon everyone, let's REVIEW now! SUBMIT REVIEW TIME HAS ARRIVED. And all ya have to do to participate is CLICK that cute pretty BUTTON down there and SUBMIT A REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! If you read this chapter, PLEASE REVIEW it! I want to break 100! WE CAN DO IT! REVIEW! LOVE YA ALL!