Title: Secrets Behind the Lies
Author: Stress
First written: June 27, 2002- March 19, 2004
Edited and replaced: May 16, 2006
Summary: Part II of the Soul Mates Series; After living in Manhattan for two years, Stress thought she knew everything about Jack Kelly or, should we say Francis Sullivan? Well, guess not.
--
Manhattan
As Jack fell to the dirt, clutching his cheek in unexpected pain, Stress dashed beside him and began to run. Dodging all of the people out on the streets and ignoring their cries as she ran into a few, she didn't stop her frantic pace until she was a block or so away from the Horace Greeley statue just off Duane Street. For, sitting right at old Horace's feet, was Gip, looking as if she didn't have a friend in the world. As she looked on Gip's forlorn figure, the memory of the morning's events came rushing back to Stress. Gip and King are in love. King is leaving Manhattan to go to Connecticut. Gip is being left behind. Pushing aside her own hurt feelings of betrayal, Stress approached Gip in order to attempt to comfort her.
But when Gip saw Stress walking towards her, she jumped of the base of the statue and began to walk quickly away in the direction of the Bottle Alley Lodging House.
Stress sighed and broke into a run to catch up. "Gip, wait. I really need to talk to you."
Gip whirled around, her long braids flying. "Why, Stress? So you ask me about King and my reaction back at Tibby's? Well, too bad. I ain't talking."
Stress found herself marveling at Gip's slight Kentucky lilt before shaking her head. "I know all about you two. King told me all about you while we were trying to figure out how we were going to break Jack out of the Refuge."
"He told you? About us? I -- wait. Did you say break Jack out of the Refuge?"
Stress glumly nodded. "That's exactly what I said."
Gip, who had known Jack even longer than Stress, laughed out loud despite her somber mood. "Snyder finally managed to catch him again?"
Stress nodded again, this time a forced smile coming to her face. "Quite funny, actually. Snatched him up right outside of Tibby's after you ran out and we was going after ya."
Gip's laugh turned into a scowl as she crossed her arms over her chest and began to stalk off again.
Stress quickened her pace to match Gip's stride. "I'm sorry about how you found out about him leaving and all, but maybe if you let King explain..."
"Explain what?" Gip exploded, wheeling on Stress, her brown eyes flashing. "Explain why he's up and decided to leave? What, has he got some better offer?"
"It ain't like that, Gip. Listen to me, alright? King loves you -- but, it's his ma, ya see. She's sick. He needs to go home. Are you really going to deny him that? I mean, leaving you is hard enough as it is. Are you gonna make it harder?"
Gip paused, the angry blush that had filled her face silently draining away. Then, as her memories were filled of her own family -- the family that she herself had been accused of murdering when, in fact, it had been her deranged father who pulled the trigger back in Kentucky -- Gip just walked quietly on. And Stress, not knowing how deep her words struck at Gip's heart, added one more remark before joining Gip on the silent trek back to Bottle Alley: "You don't know how lucky you are to have someone who truly cares about you."
Back to Bottle Alley
It was a depressing mood as Stress and Gip approached the Bottle Alley Lodging House just a mere 2 hours shy of their ten o'clock curfew. For the first time in countless blocks, Gip opened her mouth to reply to Stress' last remark. But the words never left her mouth as the two girls saw a tall figure step out from in front of the lodging house.
"Gypsy! There you are! I've been wondering around the city looking for you for hours. Where the hell have you been?" King ran forward and, pulling her by the arms that hung by her side, enveloped her in a tight embrace.
Gip allowed herself to be swallowed up by King. Before resting her head on top of King's broad shoulder, Gip looked over his shoulder and sadly smiled at Stress. "Thank you," she mouthed and let her head drop.
Stress, feelng a little resentful that Gip and King would be able to work out their problems while she still felt so hurt, walked past them and entered the lodging house.
"Back so soon, Stress?" Mrs. Cook questioned while keeping her eyes down, reviewing the ledger.
Stress nodded. But, when she realized that Mrs. Cook couldnt hear a nod, she reluctantly responded. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good. And do me a favor, dear? Please tell me that you brought Gypsy back here with you. If I have to stand that blonde gentleman interrogating me about her whereabouts once more I'm going to drag him away myself."
Stress laughed despite herself at the mental image of grey-haired Mrs. Cook trying to drag King away. "Yes, Mrs. Cook, Gip's back here too."
Mrs. Cook nodded, her glasses slipping down her nose. "Well that makes you two the first back tonight. I'll collect the night's fare at curfew. You still have two hours left, you are aware?"
"Yeah, I know. I'm just tired, is all."
"Very well, dear. But, before you go, that friendly trolley man you know -- Mr. McKean he said his name was? Friendly gentleman -- he dropped off a package from your friends and family back in Queens. I left it on your bunk."
"Thanks, Mrs. Cook. You're the best," Stress exclaimed, feeling a happier than she had since her lunch earlier that afternoon, as she bolted up the steps to open her package. The letters from the O'Connor's and her old pal, Grace, always made her feel better.
When she reached her bunk -- the first top bunk on the right -- she quickly reached for her package. It was a simple brown package, like always, except for one thing: a piece of paper slipped under the rugged twine keeping the package wrapped. Stress stared at the package for a momemt, puzzled. The O'Connor's always included any notes to her inside of the package so that no one could pry into their business, she knew, as did Grace. But, nonetheless, there was a slip of paper still there. Shrugging her shoulders, Stress pulled out the sheaf of paper and glanced down at the name scrawled on the front: Miss Jess.
With a cold feeling of dread growing in the pit of her stomach, Stress slowly opened the letter, though she knew she knew who it was from. And she was right.
" My Li'l Miss,
It's been two long years since I've felt your touch against mine; two long years since our hearts beated together as one. Two long years since I've seen your pretty face -- no, I see you all the time. I am always there, I am always watching. And I will always be there, inside of you. Always.
Forever Mine,
Rip "
The intensity of the words coupled with her own self-loathing that Jack had triggered with his harsh and cruel words was too much for her to bear.
Unwillingly and unconsciously Stress slipped into the fearful memories of Rip and the times she had spent with him. The pain, the hurt, the violation. As she watched in her mind's eye the last time she had seen him, when he had been in Manhattan and found her among her new friends, she cried out loud in sheer emotional torture, "No!", before giving in and passing out.