Lane paced around the small room, her hands clenched behind her back as she chewed her lip, going over everything that had to be done. Spot slouched under the window, his eyes shifting and cold. She knew he wasn't happy just sitting there, waiting to do something. Spot wasn't one to sit while things had to be done. He shifted his shoulders and tilted his head towards her.
"Listen, Lane, while you figure all this out, how 'bout I run back to Brooklyn and grab some stuff." He suggested, standing as if to go. Lane turned on her heel, her hands flying from her back to stop him.
"No! You don't get it do you?" She yelled, breaking the quite tones of the conversation. Spot turned quickly and started at her, his eyebrows knitted and mouth slightly ajar, not used to being yelled at, even from her.
"You can't go back to Brooklyn. They'll be waiting for you there. That's the first place they assume you would go, and you're walking right into their trap!" She tried, splaying her hands in an effort to make him understand. Spot moved closer to her, crossing his arms in a show of defiance that didn't quite make it to his eyes.
"Well I got stuff there I need, what am I supposed to do?" He asked his voice low and frustrated. Lane rolled her eyes at him.
"You're as broke as I am, what could you possibly need that you don't carry on you?" Lane scoffed eyeing him warily. Spot shuffled his feet un-characteristically and sighed.
"I've got some money." He muttered under his breath and took a step towards Lane, his head bent to her level. Her eyes lit up at the prospect, money was something they definitely needed.
"That could be helpful. How much we talkin'?" She asked her voice low as well. Spot threw another glance at the door before rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.
"A little under 10 dollars." He murmured holding his hands up in a motion to keep Lane quiet. Her eyes grew wide and a small smile appeared.
"You've been holding out on me Spot! You're right though we need that." She said beginning to pace again. Spot moved from her, looking out the window.
"I can go. I know where it is, and…" Lane moved over to him, grabbing his arm.
"I'll go Spot, I know the lodge house too and you really got to be more careful, they're waiting for you." She muttered, knowing Spot knew this; he just didn't like to feel powerless. Spot nodded a new determination in his eyes.
"It's under the loose floor board in my room." He said knowing she needed no other directions. Lane nodded, the layout plan of Spot's room appearing in her head. It didn't take much discussion between them in terms of the lodge house. She moved to leave but before she could make it to the door she turned again, looking at Spot warily, the moment that she last saw her father coming into her head. Spot looked up curiously as he leaned by the window, the picture of ease. She tilted her head, trying to keep her emotions in control.
"If in two hours, I don't come back, leave. Run, just get out of the city and don't stop fighting. Trust no one." She instructed, her voice laced with sadness. Spot's eyebrows furrowed as he pushed off the wall and moved towards her, grabbing her shoulders.
"Listen Lane, this is a one-time thing, it'll take you a half hour tops, and then we fight together. Just do it, you know the best way there and the lodge house just as well as I do. I'll see you soon." He said sternly, his blue eyes hard. He lightly pushed her from himself and returned to the wall by the window, his eyes downcast. Lane nodded stiffly and turned to go. He was right of course, they were a team now.
"Don't talk to any Italians." She muttered one more time as she slipped out the door, knowing that Spot would find that stupid. She could hear Spot scoff behind her.
"Three of the four people in the building are Italian, my God." He muttered to himself. Lane smiled as she went out the back way and started to Brooklyn.
It took Lane longer than she planned to get to Brooklyn, taking back roads and getting the across the Brooklyn Bridge was hard work trying to stay hidden from any wandering eyes. Lucky for her, the pedestrians were used to street rats and typically paid her kind no mind. She finally made it to the lodge house and moved slowly to the back entrance by the kitchen. It was early so the boys were probably all out selling. She crouched as she walked down the stairs to the cold floor before opening the heavy door. She took a deep breath and gathered her hair in a pony-tail out of nervousness before standing and pulling the door open a fraction of an inch, sticking her heel in and then looking and listening for any movements. When none came she slipped inside, shutting the door silently and moving across the kitchen into the main foyer.
The stairs leading to the bunk rooms were down the hallway by the keeper's rooms. She paused again and took another deep breath. She didn't know why she was so nervous. The boys knew she was back and if they saw her she could make up a lie quick enough. But better not to be seen, she thought as she moved down the hallway silently and up the stairs, against the wall so the steps wouldn't creek. Lane crouched next to the open bunk room door and stilled her breathing as she listened for footsteps. But once again, none came.
She stood and ran silently across the room and to the back hallway which housed the spare room and the leader's. She crouched and turned the brass handle slowly so it wouldn't click and sent a silent 'thank you' that Spot was in such a rush he forgot to lock it. She shut the door behind her and scanned the room quickly moving behind the head of the bed and bending down in the corner. She pushed on the end of the closest board, and watched it flip up slightly. She sat back and tucked a stray hair behind her ear and moved the loose board aside.
Her heart beat fast for a moment because nothing was in sight but she reached in and a foot or so back she felt the cool metal of a small box. It was an old tin with a stringy piece of twine tied around it. She tore off the twine hurriedly, casting an uneasy glance behind her, as she pulled off the lid. Inside was a collection of dollar bills rolled tightly together, another string holding it in place. In the corner was a stack of coins held together with wax. She smirked lightly at Spot's organization and took the money out, replacing the tin carefully in its hole and starting to replace the board before the door slammed open for the second time that day with a loud crack.
Lane didn't jump, but her heart was beating with fear as she spun quickly around and stood, a fire in her eyes. They met the dark brown of Luck's, Spot's second in command. And he was mad. Her feet were still hidden by the bed so she slowly finished moving the board back in place, hoping Luck's screaming would cover the noise. The large burly boy threw his arms up when he saw who it was, but he wasn't smiling.
"What the hell are you doin' here Lane? Where's Spot?" He asked suspicion in his eyes as he tried to see what she held in her hands. Great, now he would think she was stealing. She held the money behind her back and slowly slipped it into her sleeve, holding the cuff in her fist so it wouldn't slip out. She shook her head, trying to calm him down.
"He's in Manhattan with Racetrack." She started before Luck could cut her off again. He took another step towards her but she countered it, stepping from behind the bed. She wasn't about to let herself get cornered.
"Then why are you here and he's not?" He asked, no longer screaming, but still obviously defensive. She tried not to fidget as she looked around the room for something she could distract him with.
"Spot sent me to pick something up. I was just looking for it." She said, as innocently as she could, trying to keep her temper back. Luck's anger died a little more but he clearly wasn't happy. He crossed his arms and worked his jaw.
"'Kay, what are you looking for then?" He asked taking another step as Lane countered him. Lane lifted an eyebrow and her eyes got hard, her temper flaring against her will.
"It doesn't involve you now does it? So why should I tell you?" She asked, taking a step towards him in hopes to back him into the hallway. A moment of confusion flicked across his face.
"You were stealin' weren't you?" He asked, trying to see over the bed, but not moving any closer to Lane. She let out a curt laugh and rolled her eyes, surprising Luck as she moved towards him again, making him take a small step back.
"You really think I need to steal from Spot?" She started eyeing him and smiling, trying to bury her nervousness. Luck's confused look returned.
"There's no need, he'd give me what I wanted. Maybe this time I'll be back to stay." She said with a slight shrug, trying to play up the fact that she was welcome. Luck was a simple guy and was almost playing along. He looked down long enough for her to grab Spot's slingshot off the bed, he had forgotten it in his rush and it was the perfect distraction.
"I was here last time Lane, I remember when he-" Lane cut him off with a glare sharp enough to kill, a real angry fire burning in her now.
"I'm like family, Luck!" She started raising an eyebrow, daring him to bring that up again. "He'd never, not welcome me back with open arms." She whispered, never dropping Luck's gaze. He worked his jaw again; trying to wrap his mind around Lane's sudden appearance and now the fact she was snooping in Spot's room. Lane rolled her eyes, if this is what Spot was leaving Brooklyn to; it's almost a shame he has to leave.
"I don't trust you." He said roughly, looking down at her and crossing his arms. She smiled and held up the slingshot as she moved past him and into the hall.
"I'm not asking you to." She murmured as she shut the door on him, her heart pounding, and quickly made her way down the stairs and outside, not caring if any other newsie saw her leave.
Lane leaned heavily against the kitchen door, taking a deep breath. Luck had followed her and caught her in the act. Was she losing her touch? She wasn't even really stealing and couldn't do it without being seen. She let out a long shuttering breath. Maybe she couldn't keep Spot safe. She shook her head, clearing her mind for now. She had to get back to Manhattan.
She pulled on the hem of her skirt and opened the little pocket she had sewed on the inside. She set the money in it carefully and closed it, settling the slingshot in her waistband, and started the long walk to Manhattan.
Lane wasn't even out of Brooklyn before she noticed how high the sun was; noon. She had to pick up her pace; more time had passed than she thought. She took a quick step before she could return her eyes to the road and slammed into a large body, which sent her tumbling to the ground with a shriek of surprise. She looked up as she hit the bricks, her elbow smarting as the man who tripped her looked down for a fraction of a second. His jet black, greasy hair and sharp features scared her more than anything she could remember, certainly anything that had happened today.
Before she could process what had happened he had gone. She was frozen, fallen on the bricks for longer than she would have liked, his face burned into her memory. If someone had asked her to describe her father's killer she couldn't pull his face from memory. But seeing him, a few feet away, it was like she never forgot.
A/N: Hi guys! Hope you liked this chapter. I'm going back to school as of tomorrow so I'll try to pump out a chapter every week/week and a half. Feel free to drop me a line, and if you don't mind a review would be lovely! –Thanksamillion, Scratch.