Guess who is back? The Life! Yes! Thank you for all of your support, my dear readers and reviewers! Enjoy!
Spot Conlon knew something was up. He knew it. Jack cautiously dodged any questions about his girl, opting instead to deftly change the subject and avoid the questions all together. Furiously, Spot returned to his territory, fighting all the while to swallow his anger and replace it with indifference. But he found that the more he tried, the more he completely failed.
"Jazz," he called to the boy behind him.
Jogging ahead to meet his leader, he nodded.
"Yeah, boss?"
Spot swallowed tightly, wiping the anger from his eyes.
"I need a favor from youse."
Jazz nodded again.
"Ise need youse to go out and look f' Queenie."
Hot fear flushed through the newsie as he heard the words.
"But, Spot, Queenie's long gone by now. She could be anywheres-"
Sharply turning to stare down his underling, Spot clutched his cane for dear life.
"I know she was dere last night, Jazz. I know it. It's just all a'matter a' findin' her. So, all da time youse got, yous're gonna look for her. You understand?"
Gulping in air, Jazz nodded. He shoved his shaking hands into his pockets to try and hide them.
"Sure, Spot. I understand."
Adjusting his cap, the king turned and began striding- a bit more confidently- toward his home base.
By nightfall, Queenie was a wreck. She prided herself on her ability to take care of herself and everyone around her. But by the time the sun sunk below the sky line and the underbelly of New York crawled from under their rocks, Queenie found that her bag had been stolen, she had no money for food, travel, or lodging, and she was utterly and completely lost.
"Well, not totally lost," she whispered to herself as she leaned against a wall.
Her eyes looked out onto the mighty rushing water of the Hudson river as snow fell heavily around her, dousing her in white frozen misery. She slid down the wall, sitting down in a towering mound of snow, yet unable to care a whit about it. Water and chill rose up into her skin, freezing her to the bone, but- lost in her own thoughts- she barely noticed until her entire body shook violently from the chill.
Sullenly, she rose to her feet and shook the snow from her body. With a sigh, she took off walking once more into the deep night, her pathway lit by few lamps along the docks.
"C'mere, dear," a voice called from a window.
The girl looked up, only to meet the gaze of a lewdy dressed woman.
"It's warm inside with us. Money and food, besides."
Queenie looked down and scuffled away from the brothel, ashamed to even be near it. But somewhere, deep down within her, the offer was tempting. She longed for food in her stomach and a warm bed. Shaking the idea off, however, she took off running. In her haste, she tripped over her own feet and fell into the snow- face first. Eyes buried in the white powder, she couldn't see the man standing before her.
"Well, look who's fallin' back at my feet."
He chuckled and a booted foot tapped her shoulder. Bringing her head up, she locked eyes with the man. Captain, leader of the West Side.
Damn.
"Gee, dat face a' yours just gets more and more ha'riffyin' every time Ise see it."
Queenie tried to pull herself up, but the boot on her shoulder keep her firmly at his feet.
"Ah, outside dis fine establishment. Spot get tired a' youse?"
Gulping down a response, she shook her head.
"Good. Cause hese promised me dat I could have youse when he was done."
A devious smirk came over his face. The lamp light flooded his face, making it darker and more evil than she ever imagined it before.
"So, youse left 'im, did youse?"
The girl squared herself.
"I don't know how that is any of your business."
Captain chuckled to himself.
"I guess yous're right. But, I guess dat means I don't have any business helpin' youse either. Enjoy da cold, little Queen."
He turned to walk away, but she rose to her knees.
"You would help me?"
Turning his face, he laughed at the desperation in hers, knowing that his game was working like a charm.
"Not anymore."
He reveled in the way her eyes traveled between her two options: the brothel, and him.
"What would I have to give you?"
Queenie became desperate. It was getting colder by the second, and she knew she could not last a night on the streets in the weather with no where to go in the morning. Swaggering toward her, Captain let a smirk grow on his face.
"Youse would only have to ask meself nicely."
Every cell of Queenie's body resented and rejected the request. She rose to her feet, and turned to walk away.
"Forget it," she said.
She turned and began stumbling away from him. The girl resolved to walk away and find something else-anything else- to turn to.
"Fine," he began, turning to walk away himself.
Feigning realization, though, he turned back around.
"Youse should know, Queenie, dat da brothel's gonna be da only other place to take you in right now. Oh, and it's only gonna get colder tonight. I hope youse enjoy freezin' t'death."
He spoke each word with nonchalance and began walking back toward his lodging house.
"Wait-!" Queenie called after him.
Turning, he hid his giddy elation.
"I can't stay here all night. And I won't go in there."
Captain mocked her with his bravado.
"Of course, youse can't."
He walked toward her, getting eerily, uncomfortably close.
"All youse gotta do-" he said, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her to her knees in the snow, "is ask."
Queenie gulped and looked up at him. In that moment, she realized how much she truly hated him.
"May I please stay at your lodging house tonight, Captain?"
Triumphant, he let go of her and walked away.
"A'course youse can. Ise gotta friend whose been dyin' t'see youse."
Ooooohhh... Who is the friend? Will Jazz ever find her? Will Spot? What did you think? Let me know!