Um, hi, guys. First of all thanks again for those of you who are reviewing. Links and Stress and Kez, and anybody I'm forgetting... You guys make me want to write this. Please forgive any grammar/spelling errors, I'm late for class as I post this, but I wanted to go ahead and get it up. Kez, (Kettle...) If you're wondering, this isn't actually the chapter I was talking about last night. I forgot I was a little behind in my posting. But yeah, I'm gonna shut up now and let you all read. Enjoy!
Hannah's heart was pounding in her chest. She knew no one was following her, but she'd been nervous ever since she left Becky's house. Drawing in a deep breath, Hannah forced herself to calm down, to ignore the rapid beating of her heart.
As she slowed her steps, and looked around, she couldn't help but think every face she passed was watching her, following her. To her left, a large man brought a cleaver down on a massive piece of meat. She flinched as the blade struck the meat, looking away from the butcher's window, a grimace on her face.
"Such a pretty little thing like you shouldn't be making such an ugly face," a voice whispered, right in her ear.
Hannah jumped, her heart in her throat, choking out the words that were trying to force their way to the surface. She opened her mouth to scream, but a large hand came across her mouth, another grabbing her arm, and with a forceful yank she was in an ally, the man's breath grazing her face, his rough stubble scratching against her cheek. Hannah could only breathe through her nose, her mouth still covered by what she identified on the edge of her mind as a filthy hand.
"Don't scream," the man whispered, his foul smelling breath making Hannah want to gag. Then all she knew was an explosion of pain in the back of her head, before darkness settled around her like a comforting blanket.
Elisabeth fought her way through the crowds of people; she'd seen her sister for just a moment, before the crowds closed in and blocked her view. She shoved a well-dressed lady out of the way, ignoring her protests, and racing on unsteady high heeled shoes to get to where she'd seen her little sister. A muffled scream caught her attention, and she whipped her head around, her eyes frantically taking in the busy streets. There she was. A man was standing behind her, his hand over her mouth as he dragged her back into an alley.
"Hannah!" The name was out of her mouth with a scream, and she shoved as hard as she could to work her way through the crowds. Tears of fear were coursing down her cheeks, "Hannah!"
Elisabeth shoved past one final group of people, stumbling into the alley entrance, her stomach knotted as she frantically searched for her sister. The alley was empty, and Elisabeth's lungs seemed to stop working. "Hannah!" She screamed again, seemingly the only word she still knew how to vocalize.
A strong hand gripped her arm, twisting her around forcefully, and her screams stuck in her throat. "Ellie, did you see her?"
Elijah. It was only Elijah. Ellie stared at him blankly, her brain desperately trying to weave its thoughts together, as she stared up into his worried eyes. He gripped her on the shoulders, giving her one firm shake as he repeated his question, "Did you see here?!"
Ellie nodded, swallowing hard. "There was a man, he grabbed her, and dragged her into here," she glanced back, looking into the depths of the alley again as if maybe, somehow she'd be there this time. "He was big, Elijah, really big, and filthy!" Elisabeth dissolved into tears, her shoulders shaking with her hysterical sobs.
"Ellie, you've got to calm down." Bolt's voice was edged with steel as he looked down at her, maintaining his grip on her shoulders, "Which way did he take her?"
"I don't know, I didn't see."
"What do you mean you didn't see?!" Bolt replied, his voice rising in anger and frustration.
"I mean, I didn't see! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I was trying to get to her, but I lost her in the crowd," Elisabeth was wailing now, her cheeks stained with tears which continued to pour unchecked from her eyes.
Bolt released his hold on her shoulders, pacing a few steps away, and running his hand roughly through his hair, "Stop crying." He glanced back at her, gritting his teeth against his annoyance, knowing this wasn't Ellie's fault, making his next words gentler, "Come on. Obviously you can't stay put when I tell you to, so you're going to have to come with me, so I can keep an eye on you."
"Where are we going? Do you know where they took her?" Elisabeth trotted after him quickly, trying to keep up with his purposeful stride.
"No. But I know somebody who will know. So we're going to see him."
Elisabeth nodded, deciding it best to remain silent, as Elijah didn't seem to be in the mood to talk to her.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Conlon. It's good to know I have somebody I can count on." Conner's voice was laced in gratitude as he ushered the younger man to the front door, offering a firm handshake, "I'm sure you're quite capable of taking care of those details we discussed. Make sure to let me know, as soon as it's done."
"Of course, sir," Spot replied, a confident smirk in place as he left the man's home, finding himself once more in the crisp air of the fall morning. He listened as the door closed behind him, the lock clicking audibly, before he rejoined the morning foot traffic.
His steps were quick as he walked back to the Glass Factory, though they faltered, of only for a moment, when he saw who was waiting for him there. "Bolt," he greeted once he was in earshot, " Is this the girl?"
"The girl" glared at him when he spoke, and he couldn't help but grin a little at her, tipping his cabby hat in a show of mock respect.
"Please tell me this… short little man isn't the person you said would help us," Elisabeth sneered, her fear for Hannah temporarily forgotten as she found an immediate dislike for the new arrival. He smirked in amusement, clearly not offended by her comment as he reached past her to strike his fist against the metal door.
"She's right feisty," he commented offhandedly to Bolt, his eyes grazing Elisabeth as he spoke, "not the type I thought you'd go for."
"This isn't Hannah." Bolt's words were short, lacking any hint of frivolity as he looked down at Spot, "Hannah was kidnapped. I need to know where to find her."
Spot's gaze was ripped from its perusal of Elisabeth, all humor aside as he met Elijah's steady gaze. He turned away as the door opened a crack, "Clear out, Tiny, I'm in a hurry."
The door was quickly shut and reopened wider, Tiny standing back to permit the small group, "Sorry, Spot, I didn't realize it was you."
"Listen, Tiny, we'll be in my office. Don't let anybody in, ya hear me? I don't care if the mayor shows up, you keep that door closed."
Tiny nodded, his expression filled with confusion at the smaller man's request, "Of course, sir. Whatever you say."
Spot led the way back to his tiny office, waiting for both of them to enter, before closing the door behind them. "Sit." He commanded, moving around the side of his desk.
Elisabeth instantly lowered herself into a chair, but Bolt remained standing, his arms folded in front of his chest as he stared at his old friend, "Where'd they take her?"
Spot settled into his chair, his eyes thoughtful as he stared back at Bolt, responding with a question, "When did they take her?"
Bolt glanced down at Elisabeth, before turning back, "About thirty minutes ago."
Spot nodded, his eyes still thoughtful as he picked up his deck of cards, absentmindedly shuffling them as he thought, "Son of a—" He glanced over at Elisabeth, who's moment of bravery had drained away leaving a very pale looking girl in its place. "Well, he moved faster than I'd given him credit for. Stupid on my part, to underestimate him like that. But the good news is, I know where he must have put her. There are only two placed Conners would feel safe hiding her—" he paused his speech for a moment, glancing over at Elisabeth, asking suddenly, "Who exactly is she?"
"Hannah's sister. She saw it happen." Bolt responded, impatience evident in his voice.
Spot nodded, aiming his next question to Elisabeth, "Where were you? When you saw it, what part of town were you in?"
Elisabeth had pulled her white gloves off when she'd entered the room, and now she sat twisting them nervously. She glanced up, "I was at… 42nd, I think. Only a few streets down from Avery's. I was on my way to Judge Porter's house—"
"Jude Porter?" Spot asked, cutting her off, his brow furrowed at the name.
"She works for him," Bolt cut in, "But does that really matter right now? Where would they take Hannah?'
"Yeah, it matters. Everything matters," Spots reply was even and he sat back in his chair, digesting the information.
"Conlon," Bolt said, a dangerous edge to his voice as he stepped closer, "If you don't tell me where they're holding Hannah, I swear—"
"The shirtwaist factory," Spot replied calmly, cutting him off, "On the corner of 42nd and 6th. Conners owns it, he had the whole basement cleared out when he bought it, but nobody knows what for. Storage, was what he told people."
"You're sure?" Bolt asked, already turning to go back out into the city. Spot was up in a second, blocking the way to the door, shaking his head.
"Yeah, I'm sure. But you can't just go down there and waltz right in, expecting them to let you get her. They'll be waiting for you."
"Outta my way, Spot. You're mad if you think I'm just going to leave her there!"
"And you're mad if you don't think they'll shoot you on sight!" Spot replied, exasperated, "Honestly, did you learn nothing when you worked for Conners?"
"You worked for Conners?!" The voice was Elisabeth's, and both men turned to her in surprise. She'd been so quiet; her presence had been all but forgotten. "Are you insane?! And who is this guy, I don't trust him at all!"
"Look, it doesn't matter who I did or didn't work for! What matters is that Hannah is in the basement of some factory, and we don't even know if she's alive!"
Elisabeth was on her feet, some of the color returning to her face as she glared first at Bolt and then at Spot, "How do we even know she's really there. How do you know?!"
"I have…" Spot glanced at Bolt for a moment before turning back to the girl, "connections. And you don't have to trust me at all if you don't want to." Spot nodded at the door, his eyes daring her to leave,
"There's the door."
Elisabeth glared back, but her feet remained rooted to the ground, "I'm not leaving until I figure out where Hannah is."
"She's not dead." Spot's words seemed to slice through the tension in the room, and both Bolt and Elisabeth, stared at him in silence.
Bolt was the first to find his voice, and he used it, glaring at Spot, "How do you know?"
"Like I said… I have connections," Spot shrugged, moving past Bolt once again to return to his desk, which he leaned against.
"That's not gonna cut it Spot. What the hell is going on? And how do you know all this?"
Spot shrugged, "I asked. It's amazing how much Conners'll tell someone he trusts. Now will you listen to me? We're running out of time here."
Bolt's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean, we're running out of time?"
"Clear your head, Bolt. This is exactly what Conners was going for when he ordered that kidnapping. You've got to keep thinking straight, or it'll be both of you that pay the price. You've got to meet up with Johnny tonight, right? Well, this is his insurance. He knows you'll show up, now that he has Hannah."
Bolt sank into the chair opposite Spot's desk, the strength draining from his legs, "So what does this mean? I have to just leave Hannah where she is? I can't do that, I've got to go get her out of there."
"Think about it… you know she's safe, for now at least. He won't chance hurting her. He knows with her out of the picture, you'd have nothing to lose, nothing to hold you back from acting… well, rashly, shall we say."
"Okay…" Bolt said slowly, "But that's only for now. God knows what he has planned for me. He could just be waiting to kill me tonight, and then where would that leave Hannah? He'd have no use for her anymore."
"Now you're thinkin'. As far as him killing you tonight?" Spot shook his head, "I don't see it happening. If he'd wanted to kill you, he'd have done it last night. Or last week. Or when he first got out of the pen. He's got plenty of resources, there's some reason he's holding out… something he wants from you."
Bolt rubbed his forehead, "But what?"
Spot shrugged, "Got me."
"So, what about Hannah. Am I supposed to just leave her there?" Bolt glanced back up at Spot, his face looking haggard.
"No. Just because she's not hurt yet, doesn't mean she's gonna stay that way. No, we're gonna have to get her out. But you're going to have to trust me on that one."
Bolt eyed Spot, his eyes measuring the other man, "Alright, I trust you. And if anything happens to her, I'll kill you."
A smirk pulled at the corner of Spot's mouth, "That I believe." His gaze shifted back to Elisabeth, "Now, about Judge Porter…"