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: Goodness, this is not where I wanted to go with this chapter. I planned on continuing with the storyline but decided that it might be better to give a little bit of background on what happened to Luke and Caitlin during the events of One Year Anniversary. As you might recall, they left for California during Secrets Behind the Lies; that gives me seven years to make up for. Yes we know that they're married – what else? Anywho, that's the purpose behind this chapter. Next chapter, though, gets interesting. Promise, Rae – you're going to have a fun appearance, too :)

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 Ten

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Luke looked from the piece of paper in his hand to the tenement building that stood before him and back, just to verify that he had, indeed, gotten the address right. The structure was so unlike the ranch home he had left back in Albuquerque that he almost could not believe it. This is where Jessa lives?

He shook his head as he folded the up the note and slipped it into his right pocket. The scrap of paper nestled itself beside his knife and he grinned, withdrawing his hand and rubbing his forehead. He stared up at the building, his eyes narrowed at the offending structure for another moment before pulling his hat down low, covering his icy eyes. Just in case.

Luke entered the open doors of the building, relieved to see that no one was hanging about. He flicked the brim of his hat up, smirking. It was, he knew, still early in the morning and most self-respecting people had jobs. However, by the look of the somewhat dilapidated building, he was not too sure that the people who occupied it were self-respecting.

The lobby he found himself in was small, shabby and decorated with two moth-eaten chairs and a single desk. An oil lamp, dimmed so that only a faint flicker of a flame could be seen against the glass encasement of the lamp, was perched in the middle of the beaten wooden structure. It beckoned him inward, as if inviting him into the rundown building.

He looked about the unimpressive room before his gaze landed on the stairwell just off to the right. It was dark on the steps but not too dark that he needed take the oil lamp with him, for which he was glad. Whether New Mexico had spoiled him or Luke had just forgotten how distasteful the New York slums were, he did not want to spend any more time in a tenement such as this one – and that included getting lost on the stairways on his way to Jessa's apartment. "I'm going to have to convince mio cuore to choose rooming with me over this hole," he murmured to himself as he began to walk up the stairs, squinting in case there were rats or other vermin – including sleepers – blocking his way.

The stairs were cramped and short. Not for the first time since he had disembarked from his train Luke felt stifled, as if he was being choked. It had been a fanciful notion, naught but a whim of his, to finally place his demons behind him and head out West when he was eighteen but the move from Far Rockaway, Queens to San Francisco, California and, later, Albuquerque, New Mexico had turned out to be the best move he could make. The open air and hard work he endured taught him further control of his emotions; he had them in check and, with the exception of Danger Harrison, he had not been angry in quite some time – and Danger's death had not been out of anger but out of protection. He had not wanted Jessa to know he was in town just yet.

Caitlin had been quite influential in helping him grow past the issues that had plagued him following his younger sister's murder when he was fourteen. After resigning himself to the idea that he was meant to be with Caity, he had developed a gracious affection towards the woman. It was a practical marriage and, after all, no one had ever known him better than her. That did not mean that he loved her – he did not feel anything more than a kinship with her. Love… that emotion he had reserved for his mother, Carolina, his sister, Maria, and Jessa.

Jessa.

Though he was still on the staircase, somewhere between the third and fourth floor, Luke paused and leaned up against the wall. It was dirty and, somewhere inside of his mind, he knew it was making the left side of his tailored white shirt filthy. He did not pay any attention to that; his thoughts, instead, were on Jessa.

It had been seven years since he left New York behind. Just like when he had forsaken Harlem for Queens in 1895, he had been led to believe that Queens, as well as all of New York, held no further promise for him. Things had progressed on a path he had not been able to anticipate; Jessa had escaped his grasp, Caity had learned of his infidelity. There was nothing to do then but leave. It took him two whole years; it took him until 1897, to understand that he needed to flee from New York in order to find the salvation he was still searching for. When he was younger, he had assumed that Jessa was his salvation. And then she had left him.

He could not blame her, really, for leaving him behind, even if he did not understand that then. He had been greedy and insatiable. Rather than see her as who she truly was, he saw her as Maria reborn. When she was thirteen she had resembled his dead sister so much so that he was able to convince himself that she was meant to be his. He did not try to get to know her; he forced her to love him instead. Honestly, he should not have been surprised that, after months of constant threats and abuse, she fled Far Rockaway in favor of sanctuary in Manhattan.

He had gone after her, of course, but he went after her with the sole intent of dragging her back with him. It was only when Jack Kelly, a mere scrap of a boy at the time, had stabbed him – ironically with his own knife; the knife that killed both Mack Turner and Danger Harrison – that he seemed to understand where he had lost control. He could not force someone to love him. It only took him sixteen years to understand that.

That did not mean, however, that he was giving up on the girl. He loved her, that much was certain. Whether it was because of her resemblance to Maria or the fact that he wanted what he could not have, Luke loved her – and foolishly promised himself that he would have her… or no one would. Such a delusion had stolen two years of his life until finally he proceeded to leave Queens in 1897. And he did so only to further realize his plans of revenge; he had read of a chance to earn quick money out West and thought that it might be easier to earn Jessa's affection if he was wealthy.

He did not go alone on his journey. Caity, who after learning of Luke's affair with Jessa, took great care to keep his every action in her sight and followed Luke out West without a question. They brought quite a few of their closest comrades with them, though quite a few were taken under threat of retribution should they deny the offer. Danger had refused to come; his insubordination had led to the stab wound, inflicted on him by Caity. Of course, none of them knew the truth behind his intent; Caity understood that they were heading out to California in order to earn money in order to destroy Jessa's life. Foolish girl she was, Luke thought, smirking slightly as he remained in the stairwell. But then again, so was I.

Jessa was on his mind constantly those first two years. The thought of her smiling face, vulnerable and sweet, far before he had broken her, kept him going. The conditions in California were hard and did not yield the results that he had expected. Within that first year, they lost more than half of their comrades: Moneybags and Corner died of Tuberculosis shortly after arriving in California; Wren buckled under the workload and perished; Irish, following the loss of Wren, ran off and had never been heard of again. By the time Luke decided that California was not worth their time and effort, some time in the middle of 1899, there was only him, Caity, Rocky and Ace left.

Rather than return to New York, they moved on to New Mexico. Luckily for the quartet, New Mexico was much better than California. They settled in Albuquerque, working for a man called Santa Rosa who took them into his Ranch as part of their wage. He was an elderly man who appreciated their work ethic; coming from the New York City slums, all four of them did what they had to – Caity, especially. Following Luke's suggestion that they should thank their host graciously, Caity began to sleep in Guillermo Santa Rosa's bed. Luke had a plan by then; it was about this time, shortly after arriving in New Mexico, that Jessa began to slip from his mind. What did it matter, really, if a thirteen year old girl from Queens had jilted him? He, at least, still had Caity; it was not love but it was companionship.

It was no surprise then, when Santa Rosa died in 1901 under 'mysterious circumstances' – Luke had gotten tired of waiting – that his last will expressed that Spindle received everything of his. He had been a widower with no children who had grown quite attached of the red-head the last two years of his life; he rewarded her as such upon his death.

Santa Rosa had been a fairly successful man: Caity received the house, the cattle, the livestock and the meager amount of savings the old man, who had been quite frivolous with money, had accumulated. As soon as her possession of the property was official, Luke married her. He had always known that it would come down to that, that he and Caitlin were fated to end up together. He had put it off for as long as he could – in January of 1902, they were married.

Shortly after the wedding, Rocky decided to return back to the City. He felt slighted that, after all his hard work and dedication, he received nothing from Santa Rosa. Luke offered both Rocky and Ace permanent and well-paying jobs on the Ranch but it was not the same. He found it unfair that Luke ended up the owner of the Ranch solely because his new wife was a practiced whore. Ace, the closest thing to a friend that Caity had ever had, remained at the Ranch.

It was a sweet set-up, Luke had to admit, better than he could have imagined. He had money, a home and a wife, albeit one that he viewed more as a lover than someone he loved. He had not had any nightmares featuring dead prostitutes or perverted newsboys in a while. Jessa was a pleasant memory rather than a burning obsession. For the first time in over ten years, since Maria had died in 1893, Luke Divenize was content.

And it was not too soon after that that the letter from Tyler "Danger" Harrison arrived and everything that Luke had worked toward stalled and stopped. After years of putting everything behind him, there was a temptation that he could not resist. Though the letter did not explicitly state it, Luke knew that Jessa had been found; he could try again.

To be honest, it was not his intent to go after the girl at first. His first thought was to destroy the letter before Caity got wind of it. Even seven years after leaving the East Coast behind them, Caity still grew suspicious. Her utter faith in him had been shattered when she find him with Jessa and she still harbored the fear that Luke would leave her for someone else. She may have forgotten her silly notion of revenge against the younger girl when she was in New Mexico but he was not sure that she would remain as saintly as that if she was in Manhattan. And Luke knew that, if he returned to Manhattan to see the girl, Caity would follow him as soon as she could.

He did not destroy the letter, though. He hid it. It was tantalizing, with only just a hint of what Danger wanted to tell him. He tried to put the offer of 'interesting information' behind him but he could not. He was too intrigued by what Danger knew.

Without Caity knowing what he was doing, Luke began to write letters and send telegrams back East. Within no time he had learned the motive behind Danger's letter: he had gotten himself in over his head with a few shady characters and was looking for quick money. No doubt, he thought Luke to be the avenue.

The data he gleaned from various people he knew in New York interested Luke almost as much as the teaser note that Danger had sent. If he hoped to sell his information to Luke then Danger must think that it was worth something. Such a realization made Luke even more certain that this had to do with Jessa.

He sent Danger a letter the next day, telling the man to meet him at midnight in Manhattan on the 30th of July. He would be ready to listen. Then, after telling Caity a sham story about needing to return East for the funeral of a close friend – he told her that Trace McMahon, a boy he knew in Harlem had died; in truth, he had cleaned himself up and was living in the lower East Side with his wife and a few kids – he set out on the train. He was not sure how long that excuse would keep Caitlin with Ace in New Mexico; he did not give her a date to expect him back home.

He was not sure if he wanted to return home.

Luke took that moment to remove his leather cowboy hat again and wiped his forehead. It was humid and hot in the stairwell and his sensation of being closed in had only increased as he let his memories overtake him. He had not thought at all about what he would do if Danger's information really concerned Jessa Rhian. When it did, he snapped – Danger was murdered. He had been a loose end that he could not afford.

Something about being back in New York had brought the old Luke Divenize back.

And now… Now he was standing in the cramped stairwell of a rundown tenement building, preparing to confront Jessa a second time. Their first encounter after nine years – their first face-to-face; Jessa had no way of knowing that he had been following her since Friday – had not been near long enough for his taste but it had done what he had been afraid of.

He wanted her even more than ever now. And he planned on getting her. Jack Kelly and Caitlin Scott-Divenize, be damned.