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?
Author's Note: After a two month break, I decided to work on this again. I guess with all the work I've been doing on A Virgin's Touch, as well as the rewrite of CLAK, Obsession: Cuts like a Knife, I've gotten back into the Jack/Stress story again. If any of this confuses you, that's because I changed the relationship between Rip & Jess to suit those two stories. You might want to check out Obsession first because, in the chapter I uploaded today, I have the pair meeting – and the whole 'il mio cuoro' starts there.
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. There is also an author's cut of CLAK (Obsession: Cuts like a Knife), as well as Rip's story, A Virgin's Touch.
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Chapter Eight
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The kiss did not last very long. Almost right away, Jack knew something was wrong. Cassandra just did not feel right. He pulled back and took a step away.
Cassandra did not seem surprised that he broke the kiss, just disappointed. There were still tears welling up in her hazel eyes but there was a triumph in those eyes that had not been there moments ago. She was panting slightly. "Tell me, Jack," she said, forgoing the respectful title of 'Mr. Kelly' in favor of addressing him by his first name, "Tell me that meant nothing to you."
I am a fool. Jess was right. Damn it. For a brief second, his mouth was dropped open in surprise. In order to stall, he ran one of his hands through his longish brown hair before shaking his head slowly. "Cassandra, I—"
Though he did not finish his sentence, she knew what he was trying to say – and she did not want to hear it. She lifted her hand as the tears in her eyes twinkled anew. "It's that whore, Jessa, isn't it?"
"Wha – no. It's just that…" So unlike himself, Jack was stumbling over his words. Part of him wanted to reprimand Cassandra for calling Jess a 'whore'. Another part of him wanted to admit that he's known her for half of Cassandra's life – and had loved her for almost as long. But he could not bring himself to do it. Especially now that, for some unknown reason, Jess had left him. He shook his head again. "I'm your boss, Cass. It just wouldn't work," he finally finished. He knew it sounded lame but what else could he do?
The young girl seemed to accept his words. She nodded; the action itself seemed to cause the tears she was holding to spill over but she paid no mind to it. "I guess…I guess I understand. Mister Kelly," she added, almost as an afterthought.
"Good." He placed one of his hands on her shoulder. When he spoke, he adopted more of a fatherly tone – he felt it fit the situation. "Come on, now, Cass. Why don't you get washed up and then meet me in the office. We have a lot of work to do today."
She sniffled slightly before nodding. "Of course, Mr. Kelly." And, without another look at her supervisor, Cassandra entered the Chronicle building.
Jack waited for her to begin hurrying up the stairs before turning around. While rubbing his head – he had one hell of a headache beginning; Cassandra's actions coupled with no sleep last night was causing his brain to throb – he searched the streets. His chocolate brown eyes were opened wide but he caught no sign of Jess approaching the building.
Good, he thought, more than a little relieved. The way things had been going between them lately, he would not have been surprised if Jess had spied Cassandra's forward embrace. He knew her – she had a tendency to jump to conclusion.
God only knows what kind of conclusions she would jump to if she caught him kissing the younger girl. He was still trying to figure out just what, exactly, caused Jess to grow so upset with him on Friday.
He shook his head before following his secretary into the building. Maybe luck's beginning to go my way, for a change.
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She was almost blinded as she hurried away from the sight. She willed the tears to disappear – she did not want to give anyone the satisfaction of causing her to cry. It was a weakness that she did not want to deal with.
With rough hands, she pushed at her eyes. Her head was lowered as she did so; even if her hands were dropped to her sides, she would not have seen the man standing before her. He saw her, however, but did not move. After all, it was his intention to be blocking her path.
Jess was almost running at that point. Her feet were going as fast as they could while retaining some semblance of ladylike grace. Her dress whirled around her ankles, moving with every feverish step. That is, until she ran into something. A very tall, hard something. A something that was breathing – a something that was alive.
The accidental contact with another person was enough to remove the vision of Jack and Cassandra sharing a kiss from before her eyes. She had hit the person with a bit of force but, whoever it was, they were too quick for her. While an impact like that would normally send her reeling backwards, a pair of strong hands grabbed onto her arms, keeping her on her feet.
At once, Jess felt her cheeks begin to heat up. When the man – for, what sort of woman had hands as strong as those? – let go off her arms, she took a step back and dropped her hands. Shyly, she glanced up at her savior. She was prepared to offer her apologies but, upon making eye contact with the man, she suddenly found herself unable to speak.
He was a tall man – that she knew already, considering her face bumped directly into his chest – with skin much darker than her own. He had longish dark hair, the color of coal, that flopped in his crystal blue eyes; most of his face was hidden by a large cowboy hat (so like the one Jack had when he was younger but, obviously, much more expensive) that kept him shielded from the sun but, even so, she could see the beginnings of a predatory smile that crossed his lips.
It can't be… She took another step back before stammering out her appreciation. "Th-thanks, si-sir. I re-really don't know wh-what to say."
At first she thought that maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. That maybe, in the midst of such confusion, she was seeing ghosts that were not there anymore. When he bowed his head thoughtfully before gesturing for her to continue on her way, Jess breathed a quick sigh of relief. I knew it couldn't be…
And that's when she heard his murmurs. It was a low whisper; he spoke just as she passed him by. "Il mio cuoro…Jessa." He purposely moved to his left as she walked by so that her hip brushed against him.
She froze, nothing more than a few inches separating the two of them. How, she thought, is this possible? It can't be… That's when she lifted her head again.
Her eyes met his and she found it almost impossible to breathe. He was smiling that smile – she had never forgotten it, no matter how hard she tried. She began to shiver but did not move. She could not.
Slowly, so as not to spook her, he raised his hand to his head and removed his hat. His dark hair was flattened to his head but, without the hat, she was able to get a better look at him. While she had not recognized him before, there was no denying it now. Rip…
His appearance had changed in the past nine years – the man that stood before her was no longer the boy that used to terrorize her. He was taller – he was more than a head taller than she was – and broad-shouldered; his skin, while always a shade darker than hers, due to his Italian blood, was much darker now. His blue eyes were as piercing as she remembered them to be but not as threatening (they seemed to have softened over the years). His face was covered in stubble that, as much as she did not want to admit it, made him look all the more handsome.
But it was his smile that marked the difference. Now that she had a better look at him, she found that it had changed as well – she could no longer describe it as predatory but, rather, kind.
She knew that she was openly staring at him but Rip did not seem to mind. She did, though, and finally shook her head. It effectively broke the trance that he held over her. "Rip?" she whispered. She was not sure if she should remain where she was. For the past nine years she had tried to bury the ghosts of a relationship that broke her when she was thirteen years old. Just like the child she had been, she felt entranced by him.
But she was a woman now, twenty-two years old. She knew that she should just flee – hadn't she been worried about him since she read that article? She was looking at him intently and he looked so different. Could she just have been finding an excuse to hate him more, reading more into that article that what was there? Yes, it was odd that she thought he had returned – and he had – but maybe it was just a coincidence.
Who knows?
She shivered again. She realized that her hip was still close enough to his thigh to make it look improper. She took a step away, almost reluctantly.
Now, Jess knew why she should hate him. With every fiber of her body, she should hate him. But, in his own twisted way, he had loved her, hadn't he? And Jack, she knew now, did not. Had he ever?
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Luke looked almost disappointed as she stepped away from him but, inside, he was excited. In his wildest dreams, he would never expect Jessa to react so well to him. After Harrison had given him the information to find her again, he had not come up with a plan except to just approach her. He was a big man now and, if need be, he could take her down easily. After all, he just wanted to talk to her.
But she had not run from him. In truth, at first, he did not think that she even recognized him. She apologized for bumping into him – which he should have done since he was the one who caused the bumping by standing in her path – and was about to continue going on her way before he confessed his identity. And he didn't have to say his name. A quick reminder of who they both had been was enough: Il mio cuore (my heart)…Jessa.
She knew it was him and he knew that she knew. And, yet, she did not run away. She backed away – which was to be expected even if he did not like it – but did not run.
Jessa was watching him; in order to give her a better look, he removed his hat. However, while she was watching him, he was watching her.
She had changed over the years – and for the better. At the age of twenty-five, he found it awkward to be fantasizing over a thirteen year old child. He knew that she had aged but, without seeing her, his memory of who she was was all he had.
She had gotten a bit taller but was much shorter than he was; she had filled out more and had returned to wearing more feminine clothing. The last time he had seen her, she had traded her hand tailored blouses and skirts for a boy's button down shirt and slacks. He had been so mad at her for that.
Luke still believed that a girl should dress to fit her sex.
Her hair was as lovely as it was back then, but no longer resting loosely down her back; she had it clipped back in an attempt to appear older. He wanted to reach forward and remove the clip but restrained himself. There would be time for that later. If I play this right…
That's when he heard her whisper: "Rip?"
He smiled all the deeper for it. She remembered…and she's still here. He figured now would be the perfect time to show her that he's changed.
Slowly, he shook his head. "No, Jessa, not 'Rip'. Not anymore. Call me Luke."
