Alright, sorry this took forever. School has been really busy and I have exams soon, so don't expect too much. This has been co-written/mostly written by a close friend who wishes to remain anonymous. I'll call her Sue. Sue has really helped me with this chapter. Happy Writings! Oh! Almost forgot, please tell me what you would like to happen, I have minor writer's block, also, I could update more regularly with short chapters or sparsely with longer chapters. You choose.

Also, big shout out to LucyOfNarnia, my wonderful Beta reader.

~EG Winston and Sue

Race's P.O.V.

Dangit, Race! I thought as I sprinted back to Manhattan. My feet pounded the pavement and ached.

You just left your best friend at the hands of Spot Conlon! The infamous womanizer who doesn't take no for an answer! And you just kissed her! What am I going to do, what am I going to do!

I finally got off the Brooklyn Bridge and was back home.

What is he doing to her now?

The moon was high in the sky, it was probably around 1am.

Is she alright?

36th street, a couple more blocks till I reach the Newsboys Lodging House.

She's gone, she's really gone!

Caspian Street! I ran through the heavy doors and straight into-

"Oof! Watch where you're goin' Race!" Cowboy shouted as I ran into the Lodging House.

"Where's the fire?" laughed Bumlets.

How can they be laughing at a time like this?

"Jack! Spot! He took! I didn't mean to! Took her! Gone!"

"Whoah whoah Race! Who's gone!"

"Skeeter!"

Then the world went black and the last thing I saw was Skeeter's eyes as I kissed her and ran away.

Spot's P.O.V.

She looked at me like some animal does when it knows its trapped. I smirked, mostly because I knew it killed her. You pick up a lot of things from looking at someone's eyes, especially pretty green ones like these. Yes, she would be perfect, I just had to figure out how to break her.

"Shall we go in?" I asked, offering my arm.

She looked at me, her eyes seething with hatred.

Rolling my eyes I signaled my newsies to go back to playin' poker or whatever they were doing.

"C'mon, dollface" I grabbed her arm and dragged her into our lodging house.

"My. Name. Is. Skeeter. Don't ever call me dollface or I'll soak youse!" She shouted.

"I like 'em feisty. Dollface" I said, mostly cause I liked making her angry. She squinted those green eyes and glared at me.

"Anyway, Ise the King a Brooklyn, you couldn't soak me. Hey, youse Irish, right?"

She spat, "Yeah, why?"

"Youse got the Irish tempa, jis like me"

"Where do you want to sleep, Skeeter." I asked her, knowing full well where she would choose.

"You can sleep with me boys, in the bunkroom. Or" I said, trying to keep my voice steady,

"You can sleep with me. In my room."

"I'd rather share a room with a Delancey. I choose the bunkroom, I'm a big goil, Conlon. I can protect myself."

I was not expecting this.

Skeeter's P.O.V.

He grabbed my arm, the jerk grabbed my arm and reeled me around as I headed into the bunk room.

"Well to bad, Dollface. Cause I decided youse going to sleep in my room!"

"Then why did you ask me!"

He gripped my arm and dragged me to a separate room and pushed me inside.

"I'm stepping out. Youse staying here tomorrow. You leave youse soaked. You think about leavin' youse soaked. Anythin' you do Ise don't want you to do and youse is soaked."

He slammed the door, leaving me to contemplate my future.

I sat in the corner, not wanting to go near the bed. It was a nice room. There was one window with a fire escape, but I hoid about Conlon. If I stepped foot out that window, he'd kill me. There was a tiny night stand with a cracked mirror.

Seven years of bad luck sang Mam's voice from inside my mind.

I looked into it, my hair was in knots and my face was covered in cuts from Smalls and his boys.

I'd like to say that I managed to sneak out or broke something. But no, I collapsed into a fit of tears. Here I was, in the heart of Brooklyn, in this arrogant, pig headed creep's bedroom, without my best friend, (who now might be something more after that kiss) not knowing what would happen to me. Life sucked.

When I woke up, the sun was low in the sky, I estimated about 6:30am. I wasn't in the corner where I had finally fallen asleep last night, but on the bed. Conlon must have moved me when he came back.

"I didn't touch youse, c'ept to carry youse" I heard a mocking voice.

There in the corner stood my captor.

"Ise goin' to carry the bannah. Scratch will stay here with you today. He won't hoit youse."

"What am I supposed to do all day?" I asked as I followed him into the hallway.

"Like I care" Spot smirked, "Clean, cook, what goils are good for. Besides sleepin' with, that is"

He grinned and sauntered (yes, sauntered) down the stairs.

"Jerk face, pain in the butt, no good nincompoop, I oughta, dang newsie…"

"You really shouldn't be sayin' that. If he hoid youse, well, I don't even want to think about what would happen if he heard youse"

I turned around, there stood the kid who soaked me last night, Scratch presumably. He looked better in the light. He had long black hair, brown eyes and a jagged scar running down his cheek.

I glared at him, "Like I care"

He stared down sheepishly, "Anyway, ise sorry bout last night. Had I known youse was a goil… well, I wouldn't a soaked ya"

"Shoah. You woulda left me alone or asked me on a date or sometin"

"Just wanted to 'pologize'"

"I forgive youse, the past is past and you cain't do nuttin bout it now. So, what am I supposed to do all day? Being a captive ain't too appealing. Hey! I have an idea! How bout you let me go back to Manhattan and we pretend this whole deal neva happened?"

Scratch laughed, "Yeah, shoah, and let me be killed by Spot. No tanks. Why don't you cook or clean like he said?"

I smiled at the thought of me trying to cook. "Listen Scratch, I could burn watah and as for cleaning, it'll be the end of the woild befoah Ise do dat"

Scratch laughed, this kid didn't seem so bad. Wait, Skeeter! What the heck are you talkin' bout! Youse his captive! Then again, what bettah way to tick off Spot then get on his newsies' good side and ignore him?

I smiled, "Why don't youse tell me about youself?"

Being a suck-up was not goin to be easy.