Slingshot rubbed at his swollen knuckles, smearing a bit of blood along one of his fingers. He ran his tongue along his top gum, testing his teeth to make sure none had gotten loose. He'd found the fight easily enough, only minutes after he went looking, but maybe he should have taken better care.
Les Jacobs sitting lazily on an empty barrel held out a lit cigarette. The Manhattan newsboy hadn't gotten involved, hadn't even tried to run into the fight as Bottle Cap had. Brooklyn boys were much more prone to a good fight than any of the boys from Manhattan, and Slingshot had never really thought of it much before this afternoon. Slingshot accepted a puff of the cigarette.
"I should have let him knock out one of your stupid teeth." Cap hissed. Cap had swung his left hook into the brawl just before the staggeringly drunk man had pulled out a set of brass knuckles. Slingshot vaguely conceded to himself that looking for a fight outside a tavern was less than wise.
"I had it handled." Slingshot stated coolly, stubbornly, almost imperiously. Bottle Cap huffed out a laugh, the pitch just right to make Slingshot's blood boil once again. He pushed off the wall, cracking a thumb under one of his swollen fingers.
"If you two are going to fight, I'll just head home for dinner then." Les drawled out impatiently.
"It won't take more than a minute or two." Bottle Cap taunted. The taunt brought Slingshot to his senses. Cap didn't take to being cruel, he only taunted when he was angry. Anger brought out all the Brooklyn in the boy, the danger and promise of violence that commanded effortlessly. The threat pulled the fight out of Slingshot. After all, he hadn't been looking for a real opponent in a fight. Slingshot just wanted someone to hit, and if he was being honest someone that wouldn't hit back was more desirable, somewhere to direct his anger.
An embarrassed heat traveled up his neck and to his cheeks, Slingshot Kai knew he had been foolish. But he gritted his teeth, refusing to apologize even as he sagged back against the wall.
"It was just a quick brawl." He shrugged.
"You've never had a quick brawl in your life." Cap sighed impatience still dripping in his tone. Slingshot saw how much Cap was still debating swinging at his jaw, leader or not. But he was saved by his empty stomach rumbling loud enough to dampen the ire in Bottle Cap.
"Come on then." Cap rolled his eyes but turned back to the main street. Bottle Cap and Les Jacobs had been heading towards the Nest, to find both Slingshot and a meal. It had been sheer coincidence the two boys had discovered Slingshot fighting in an alley. Only a slight whistle had alerted Bottle Cap to the trouble his leader had been in just moments ago.
"I'd have figured you'd have your own set of knuckles," Les mused pushing smoke through the side of his mouth.
"He doesn't. I do." Bottle Cap threw back over his shoulder.
"He doesn't carry them though, does he?" Slingshot taunted now.
"I can make the other side of your lip bloody," Cap muttered under his breath.
"Take it your visit home wasn't pleasant?" Les flicked the last bit of his cigarette at a passing wagon wheel. Slingshot's shoulders tensed at the mention of home. A beating pulse at the back of his head making him consider where home was at all these days.
He'd been summoned to the clock workshop in Little Italy. Summoned, a barely thinned order. West had started his scathing lecture from the moment he had stepped into the shop.
Matthew Kai had been made to stand at attention for over an hour as West shouted, questioned, and even threatened a whipping. It was worse than any time he had skipped lessons or missed coming home for dinner, or even when he had started doing work for the crime families. He had never seen West so riled up before, incensed to the point of violence.
"What business does Caitlin Conlon have telling West a thing!" Slingshot snapped.
"It wasn't Cat." Cap sighed. Bottle Cap would have guessed what the call to Little Italy was about even without the birds confirming his suspicions.
"Was it you?" Slingshot whispered dangerously.
"I wouldn't dare," Cap laughed. "But Critter would."
"What business is it of his!"
"Have you done something to insult the man?" Les asked amused. Les Jacobs had little interaction with Critter O'Connell, much less than his current company, but he knew how to recognize power. Little Les Jacobs had grown up in the shadow of powerful boys.
"I am sorry. I did not know Caitlin would go to the Rose." Cap sighed. The boy did feel guilty about letting his leader fall into the trap he found himself in. "Or that Laces would follow with Critter in tow."
"West threatened me with a whipping! I haven't been whipped since my father died." Slingshot stomped up the steps to the nest, flexing his fists yet again. A soft whistled tune floated in the air, but not a single soul sat on the steps of the building or hung out any of the windows facing the street.
"Do we believe one of these birds could catch me up with the gossip on what's got Slingshot hunting for a fight?" Les sauntered into the building, playfully scanning the space. The murmurs were louder inside, voices carrying from every direction. The thrum of life in the nest a constant beat.
"Slingshot and Cam were caught unaware by Caitlin Conlon, and Critter," Cap explained before jogging up the narrow stairs, skipping over a basket of yarn and baseballs. Les laughingly let out a low whistle.
Two doors opened and three heads popped out, a series of whistles echoed in response down the stairwells. Relic blinked blearily at the newsboys a couple of times before clicking her door shut again.
"Sorry," Les muttered embarrassed.
Matches waved them into the first door to the left as he stepped out with a tin plate full of roast beef, potatoes, and green corn. The smell of cooking spices wafting through the air.
"I'd bet a quarter that Critter O'Connell bedded Caitlin Conlon." Slingshot snapped as he stepped into the overflowing little kitchen, just behind the burly Bookie. Blaze stood at the stove, gently stirring, and scooping up contents for the children that wandered in. With her light straw-colored hair wrapped in an old scarf and her cheeks rosy, she appeared deceivingly focused on her cooking and serving.
"Oy, there are young ears here and I'd have you mind that mouth of yours Brooklyn, or not." RB snapped from her seat on a crate in the sitting room. A couple of younger girls sat prettily at her feet playing with a pair of dolls as they munched happily on pieces of roast beef.
"If you had a quarter, you'd have lost it." Bookie murmured without turning his head or acknowledging the newsboys. Blaze shoved a loaded plate at the bird and shooed him out before Slingshot could ask any more questions of the gambling expert.
"He wasn't a saint mind you, but it isn't about being a saint." Blaze smiled at Slingshot as she handed him his dinner.
"Be prepared to get a blistering lecture in print from Conlon." Daisy nodded, appearing at the doorframe. She was pulling a set of pins from her golden hair tightly coiled at the nape of her neck as she pulled a parcel from a fabric tote that looked suspiciously like a newspaper bag. The canvas kind that could hold over a hundred papers.
"No one can convince me Conlon was chaste." Slingshot snorts.
"It'd be hard to find anyone who knew him that would suggest it." Daisy smiled brightly untying the string on her parcel to reveal a cake.
Blaze hummed in appreciation as she set another plate full of food in Cap's hands.
"Then who is he to send me a lecture from across the United States." Slingshot huffed.
A harsh whistle, the kind where the air is pressed between gritted teeth and only a partially lowered bottom lip whipped through the air. An exacting command.
"Jasper would like us to join our conversation." Daisy quirked an eyebrow at the ceiling.
"Best send the twins down for some supper then," Blaze whispered.
Bottle Cap shoved Slingshot out the door before he could protest to being summoned, for yet another time in one day. Les paused to thank Blaze for the meal and to share a piece of news, something about a market delivery she might fancy. No one came to the Nest without some bit or bobble of news.
Daisy without a meal to weight her down, raced up the stairs to the sixth floor. A rambunctious game of stick ball was taking place on the third floor between two of the doors. Baths and laundry appeared to be happening on the fourth floor. The fifth floor was full of snores and soft breathing, the owls deep in slumber. By the time Slingshot, Bottle Cap, and Les reached the open door to Jasper's residence the trio had been informed of two opening restaurants, a scandal involving the daughter of a railroad industrialist, the firing of a reporter from the Sun, and the newest crime ring involving women's undergarments on Fifth Avenue. Les had also finished nearly everything on his plate.
"What you have to remember is that Caitlin Conlon is a prim and proper Catholic miss," Jasper explained the moment the trio stepped within hearing distance. The leader of the birds sat half out his open window with a stack of newspapers on his knee and a fat cigar in his mouth. Daisy had mostly undressed, a pile of neatly folded undergarments and dusty boots in an open drawer of a dresser pushed up near the window.
"And what's that got to do with me?" Slingshot settled on an ancient-looking chair, one that had likely once been in a Longfellow home, while Bottle Cap slid against the wall down to the floor. Les began to pace around the space.
"Not much, but she's got a good mind for managing Critter." Jasper laughed, savoring a long inhale.
"And aren't Conlon and Kelly Catholics?" Slingshot demanded.
"For that matter, aren't you?" Cap laughed with no accusation in his tone.
"They had friends, in the brothels..." Daisy yawned slipping down into the large stuffed bed Critter usually slept in. She curled into one of the corners like a cat, seemingly too tired to finish her thought.
"I don't know about Conlon, but Kelly was careful not to take Sarah or Laces to bed," Les murmured quietly as if worried to give up his old mentor's secrets.
"No, he wouldn't." Jasper nodded absently lifting one of the papers to scan headlines.
"Never with Laces." Bottle Cap nodded.
"Why not!" Slingshot demanded, annoyance flaring at the reverence the old leaders demanded even a year after their departure.
"Your cousin had been used for her body, many times by those who were meant to protect her." Jasper dropped the paper he'd been holding. His tone was breezy enough still but held a note of sharpness to it. Laces might be a weapon in their game, but she was protected and revered.
"Jack was always careful with her. She scares easy, no matter how tough she acts." Bottle Cap whispered.
Slingshot felt the flush on his cheeks again and the ringing in his ears from the lectures. Embarrassment crawled along every part of his body. Critter had made him promise to take precautions, a conversation that hadn't been at all a lecture but an indirect order. West had railed against the temptations of the flesh, reckless youth, and how Camilla was a good girl with expectations. Slingshot knew he hadn't been thinking about anything when he'd started sneaking off with her, losing himself to the pleasure of having her. He hadn't been careful with her at all, at least not yet.
"That's not it, well it's not all. Critter doesn't care who you bed, or how often and he'd deal with the bit of uproar over your misconduct from Cat if he didn't believe you were being reckless." Daisy yawned again.
"Reckless how?" Cap frowned.
"If you got the girl with child, Crit would expect you to marry her." Jasper flipped open another paper on his knee. The Evening Brooklyn Eagle.
"With child?" Slingshot squeaked.
"And there's the sense we've been looking for." Cap laughed.
"I've called for some of the girls, to come to explain some of the finer points of not being reckless. For your sake." Jasper jumped back into the apartment. The papers that had been resting on his knee scattered onto the ground in front of him. Les Jacobs was shifting through a cupboard in the tiny kitchen, reaching back for a bottle he'd seen before.
"Mind if we have a nip then?" He smiled pulling out the bottle of whiskey.