A/N: Here you go, another chappie up and running. Time to introduce... dun dun dun... the girl! (Who will for the meantime be remaining nameless. But just for the meantime!)
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Chapter Three
Spot stepped out of Tibby's and into the bright sunlight that consumed New York City that day. He closed his eyes and sighed, cursing the Gods above that his life was always so damn complicated. He had never had a simple day in his life. Even as a little kid, Spot had it rough. His father was a drunken bastard. He used to be a fairly good man, he loved his little wife and took pride in his beat up Brooklyn apartment. But after he caught on that Spot's mother was a lying, cheating whore and had slept with every man in the apartment building, he lost it. Turning to alcohol and gambling, Spot's father began to waste his life away, finding pleasure in connecting his fist with his wife's jaw every once in a while. He didn't believe Spot was his son. Hell, even Spot didn't believe he was his son. His mother wouldn't give him up though, making his "father" even angrier. And Spot had the scars to show for it.
Spot didn't run away like most people think. His father dragged out by the neck one day a little before his thirteenth birthday, told him if he ever came back he'd kill him. That was all Spot needed to persuade him. Giving his father the finger, he turned on his heel and walked away, his mother's cries ringing in his ears as his father restrained her. And he hadn't looked back since. Last he heard, his father killed his mother about a year after left, then was hauled off to Rikers Island by the bulls, screaming like a madman the whole way.
When one of his newsies had told him, Spot didn't even bat an eyelash.
And now this damn conflict with Queens. "God," Spot thought to himself. "I should just go tah Queens and kill Bull now and end dis thing befoah it begins."
Spot was seriously contemplating the idea. If he did kill him, it would definitely teach the city once and for all who was in charge. Brooklyn. Spot Conlon. It wouldn't be that big off a loss, even in the eyes of the Queens boys. Bull was nothing special, just another tough boy newsie trying to make himself known, make a name for himself that newsies would always remember yet would always fear to speak. Every newsie had the dream, but none had succeeded in making it a reality. Well, except for one.
Finally, Spot decided to see what move Queens would make next. If they did something stupid, like openly threaten Brooklyn or kill one of Jack's boys, Spot would kill Bull and any other Queens boy who got in his way. No doubt about it. He didn't have time to be involved in a war against idiots. Spot liked worthy opponents, and if Queens didn't prove to be worthy very, very soon, Spot would destroy them.
Spot glanced over to Night and Smalls. They were trailing behind him, still careful to keep their distance. He could tell by the looks on their faces as he met their eyes that they were dying to know what the plan was. Brooklyn boys are always anxious for a fight. These two were no different. Its been a while since they tasted blood, and Spot knew they were itching for a good rumble.
"Well boys," he began slowly, noticing the way they diverted their attention from everything else to him, craving information. "I told Cowboy back at da dinah that we are gunna be goin' tah war with Queens." They boys nodded their heads, though they could tell he had more to say. "But, I ain't too sure its gunna get that far. If Bull, or any othah of his boys do anythin' stupid, which dey most likely will," Night and Smalls grinned at this, "then we're gunna go to Queens and kill Bull. Simple as dat. Got it?" The two newsboys glanced at each other and grinned.
"Yeah Spot, we got it." Smalls said smoothly. He would love to take that bastard Bull out once and for all, and hoped he would be there when the deed was done. The dumbass had always bothered him, and he would be extremely happy once he was gone.
"Now I don't want yah to be spreading word about dis 'cause I ain't even sure its gunna happen and I don't want..." Spot's voiced trailed off. The words got caught up in his throat, a definite first for him. He forgot what he was going to say. He forgot where he was and what he was doing. He couldn't see anything, anything at all, except for her.
She was standing, across the street, a bulky brown bag in her arms, most likely groceries. Her hair was brown and beautiful, cascading in silky curls down her back. She had eyes the color of emeralds, deep, pure, and absolutely gorgeous. Rose colored cheeks blended well with her milky complection. Her small button nose was just the right size, with a tiny dash of freckles on it. Creamy pink lips slightly parted themselves, displaying a hint of white teeth. A small, round face tied in all her features perfectly. Her body was petite and poised, her small arms clutching the bag as she turned her head from left to right, deeming it safe or not to cross the busy road. A stray strand of hair caught on her face as a breeze brushed by. She reached up to push it away.
Spot could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Blood was rushing in his ears, he could barely hear. Brooklyn had never felt this way before. The girl was pretty, but it would be an exaggeration to say she was beautiful. He had had better than her. He could get better than her. Hell, he was Spot Conlon! Any woman in the city would jump at the chance to get in bed with him. But, that's not what he wanted. He wanted her. That girl. That girl with pretty green eyes.
"Uhhh... Spot?" The moment was gone, the voice had knocked him back to reality. Sound came rushing back, as did his sight. A sudden wave of dizziness passed over him, but he quickly shook it off. Spot whipped his head over to the one who had spoken, anger flashing in his eyes. He had enjoyed looking at her, when nothing else seemed real. And now that feeling was gone thanks to Night.
"What?" he growled menacingly.
Night took a step back, uncertainty consuming his features. Had he done something wrong? "I... uhh... well you was just talkin'... and den yah stopped in da middle of yah sentence... and..." Night looked away. He sounded pathetic. How did the Brooklyn leader manage to instil so much fear in him?
Spot thought back to what he was saying, still angry that Night had interrupted his thoughts. He looked back to where the girl had been standing only to find that she was gone. He cursed in his mind, but regained his control on the outside. There was no way any of his boys were going to see him lose control just because of a girl. "Well as I was sayin'," Spot said glaring at the two newsboys. "I don't want da boys tah get da idea dat we're gunna kill Bull if we ain't actually gunna kill Bull. So you two bettah keep yah mouths shut. If I hear any word of dis from any of da boys, I'll know who it came from." With that, Spot turned his back once again on the two intimidated Brookies, heading towards the bridge. He kept an eye out for the girl, but didn't see her. "I'll find yah," he thought to himself. "It's jus' a mattah of time."
She was going to be his. Spot had made up his mind. And as we all know, Spot Conlon always gets what he wants.
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A/N: Wow I've been writing this one for a while, and am personally pretty proud of how it turned out. But its not what I think, its what you think! So review and such, and tell me if you like it!
Outsider Wolf
