Title: Can't Keep Running
Summary: It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip -- what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?
Disclaimer: As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from.
Soul Mates Series: This is the fourth installment in Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives.
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Chapter Six
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For the countless time in the three nights that Jess had spent on the Mackenzie couch she found herself tossing and turning restlessly, entirely unable to sleep. Finally, when she at last made herself comfortable, lying flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling, all the while trying her damndest to tune out Michael's snoring, Jess let her thoughts travel back to Jack.
It had been over two days since she had stormed out of her apartment, announcing she was leaving, yet she still felt as hurt and betrayed as ever. Though it was true that the initial look of shock on his face was enough to plant seeds of doubt in her mind about what she had heard, she also reminded herself how he hadn't denied anything at first. He had waited until she had returned Saturday morning for her belongings to try and convince her to stay.
After a sleepless night in Ava and Michael's apartment Jess just wanted to grab a few of her dresses in order to have something fresh to wear; after all, she had had to wear a nightgown of Ava's the night before due to her reluctance to face Jack right away. But, now, the morning after, Jess realized that it would have to be something she dealt with – and the sooner she did that the better. So, with a queasy feeling in her stomach that had nothing to do with morning sickness, Jess returned to the apartment she had shared with Jack and slipped inside, praying that Jack would still be asleep.
"Who is it? What do you want? Go away," called a groggy voice once Jess had shut the door behind her.
"Shit," she murmured under her breath as she headed towards the room where she had heard the voice coming from – the kitchen. Meaning to go in there and tell Jack exactly what she thought of him, especially since he had just told her to go away when it still was half her apartment until the next month, Jess entered the room with her head held high.
But once she entered the small nook in the back of the apartment, she let out an involuntary gasp when she saw Jack sitting at the table, dark circles under his eyes, and a few empty bottles sitting in front of his place. "Jack, what the hell is wrong with you? Don't you realize how early it is?"
He took a moment to recognize her and grinned when he realized who it was. "Well, my dear, if you never went to bed, then it's still late and not early at all."
Jess let out a sigh of disgust. "It's been one day since I've been gone and you've turned into a goddamn drunk already, Cowboy?"
Jack ignored her use of his old nickname as his grin quickly turned into a scowl. "Maybe if you would explain to me why exactly you ran out on me yesterday I wouldn't have stayed up all night drinking."
"Don't start with me – you know exactly why I left. I just don't understand why it took me so long to find out what a backstabbing, cheating lowlife you were."
Jack stood up slowly, using the table to support himself and stay his swaying. "Maybe because I ain't one. Who the hell told you that I was, huh?"
"You, that's who. But it don't matter – I know the real you now and I'm just sorry it took me four years. Anyway, I just stopped into get some of my stuff. Ava and Michael are letting me stay over until I can find my own place to stay." And, with that, Jess turned around and began to head out of the room.
But, before she could take two steps, Jack rushed in front of her and grabbed her arm. "Jess, wait—"
"What have I told you about grabbing me, Cowboy? Nobody grabs me without my permission, so back off," Jess hissed as she wrenched her arm out of his grasp.
Jack looked surprised amidst the dazed expression that the liquor had given him. "I'm sorry, Jess, it's just that I need to talk to you. I don't know what exactly is going on, but I want you to tell me. I don't want you to leave me."
"Yeah, well, you should have thought about that before you had your talk with Dave yesterday," Jess snapped, trying hard not to feel weak at Jack's now hurt expression. If there was thing that Jess hated, it was weakness. "Anyway, I'll see ya at the newspaper office on Monday, Cowboy. Just do me a favor -- don't fuck that tramp on your desk when I'm standing there. I mean, I'm sure you're ecstatic that you can finally show the world how you feel about Cassandra, but we wouldn't want another li'l Sullivan running around. One will be enough."
And, as Jess spat out her parting words and turned to leave, totally forgetting the reason she had entered the apartment in the first place, she left Jack behind fighting for sobriety in order to ponder the meaning behind her last statement.
Jess groaned as she remembered her last remark to Jack. Of course she would have to open her mouth and hint towards the one thing she wanted to keep from him. Though Ava was right when she said that Jack would find out eventually, Jess just didn't have the stomach to tell him that on Saturday. Nor Sunday.
"Um, Jess? Jack's knocking at the door again. Do you want me to answer it?"
Jess looked up from the sewing that she was helping Ava with and shot Michael a withering glare. "I told Jack last night when he woke us all up with his banging that I never wanted to speak to him again. What does he want now? Does he want Rae to come out and yell at him again?" Last night, when Jack had woken up Rae's daughter, Genna, with his banging, Rae came storming out. Waving her wooden spoon angrily, it had been quite a sight to watch the still inebriated Jack back down and return to his apartment.
Michael shrugged his shoulders apologetically, confusion written in his brown eyes. "He won't tell me, Jess. Says he needs to speak to you and he won't stop pounding on the door until you do. 'Rae or no Rae' he said."
Sighing heavily Jess placed the sock she was darning down onto the kitchen table and stood up. "Alright, Michael. I'll answer the door," she replied, sounding as if it was the last thing she wanted to do. And, of course, it was.
Michael nodded once before picking up the morning edition of the paper and returning to his and Ava's bedroom. Jess waited until he had shut the door behind him and his wife before approaching the front door. "Francis Sullivan, what the hell do you think you are doing out there this early in the morning?"
At once the banging ceased. "Jess, you know damn well that the only name I answer to since I had it changed is 'Jack Kelly'," came his cold reply.
From her side of the door Jess allowed herself a tiny smile; if there was one thing that Jack hated more than anything it was being reminded of his early childhood and of his murderous father, the man whose name he shared. Once Francis Sullivan, Sr. was imprisoned for the murder of his wife, Margaret, and his son was left on the streets of New York to fend for himself, Francis Sullivan, Jr. adopted the name "Jack Kelly" in order to put his own past behind him. Normally, calling Jack by his birth name was a card that Jess tried not to play but this time it was different. To her, no amount of hurt she inflicted on him with her words could match the amount he caused on her when she heard him making his plans to leave Manhattan with Cassandra. Remembering the hurt she was now enduring from the overheard conversation of two days prior, Jess retorted, "And you know damn well that I told you that I never wanted to see you again."
There was silence for a moment before she heard Jack's voice once more, no longer cold; instead, his voice now carried a pleading tone. "Jess, can you please just answer the door? Listen, I don't know what the hell happened but I've been thinking this over non-stop since Friday night. Somewhere along the line you got the wrong message and we need to sort this out."
"We don't need to sort nothing out. I heard you, Jack. You want that two-bit hussy, alright. I know. I understand. And I'm gonna let you go after her. I'm finished. I'm sick and I'm tired and I'm finished."
"But Jess, I don't want Cass. Where the hell did you get that idea? She's just a kid."
"I've seen you down at work with her. Whenever she's around it's like I ain't even there."
There was a pause followed by a sigh. "I've told you time and time again – if Old Man Jenkins finds out that we're together then he'll have no choice but to fire you from the Chronicle. Remember how he refused to hire Grace because she was engaged to Dave? I'm just looking out for you."
"Yeah, well you don't have to anymore. Mr. Jenkins isn't going to find out that we're together because we ain't. I've told you Jack, we're finished. Go run to your tramp now and leave me alone," she cried, leaning with her back against the door as if, with that action, she was forever turning her back on him.
"Jess? Don't you believe me? Don't you trust me at all?"
"No," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she kept her back pressed against the door.
There was another pause where Jess wondered briefly if her reply was heard. It was. "Alright, then. If that's how you feel, then I guess we are finished. If you need any of your belongings I will be out this evening. Good day, Miss Rhian, and I will see you at the newspaper office tomorrow morning, bright and early. And try not to be late. Mr. Jacobs requires a secretary who arrives on time and can get their work done, like Cassandra. And Heaven knows I'm sure he would hate to have to replace you."
Jess listened as Jack's cold, indifferent words washed over her. Then, taking a deep breath, she slowly stepped away from the door and began to open it. "Jack, I--," she began, but stopped suddenly. It was no use apologizing to Jack - he was already gone.
Tossing and turning once more, Jess realized that sleeping was now out of the question. After peering out of the kitchen window and seeing that the sun had begun to rise, she heaved herself off of the couch. She may not have had the chance the morning before to apologize to Jack for her rash judgments of the past three days, but maybe she could do so at the office. After all, maybe she had misunderstood Jack and Dave's Friday afternoon exchange. Maybe she wasn't as mad as she was before. Maybe Jack didn't have feelings for Cassandra. Maybe she and Jack could have another chance together, raising their child. Maybe.
