CHAPTER FIVE

The weeks that followed were dismal. The heavens mocked us with a heat wave and cloudless blue skies, which did not seem to fit the chill of the atmosphere amongst the working class children down below.

It was difficult to see any good in our situation at all. The slaughter had ceased for the time being, but that did not seem to provide any comfort to any of us. How could it? Someone was stalking us - the smaller, weaker, poorer children of this city - and the police seemed to be sitting back on their haunches as we got annihilated left and right, with no warning, with no repercussions. With no end in sight.

Spot had not said very much to me since the night of our tarot card readings, especially not about our situation. He had even less to say about one of our boys being murdered and did not show up to the funeral we all pitched in to afford. I was so angry and disappointed in him for that.

It felt wrong for Thomas to be buried in the corner of the Jewish cemetery, next to the paupers. Like he was nothing, like he was nobody. Just another poor street kid, swept under the rug with the rest of the children who had gotten slaughtered.

Death was unfair; he was heartless and cruel, selfish and demanding. It wasn't fair.

"Angel, are you listening to me?" Pip's usual cheery voice was soured with irritation, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I gave her a thin smile and sipped my tea. "I am now." Ignoring the huff of dramatic annoyance she gave in response to my comment, I pressed on: "So who's house are you housekeeping for? Also how did this even happen? How are you taking orders? I should think someone of your level of cheek wouldn't be able to be under anyone."

This seemed to please her because she brightened up the same way a room did when you wrenched open the curtains in the morning to let the light in.

"Oh, you know, some regular old well-to-do family. I think they're friends with the Mayor? It hardly matters," Pip said flippantly, which made me laugh. She leaned in close, her eyes wide with mirth. "However, I have heard some things from the whispers of the other maids here."

"Oh? Do tell!" I encouraged her. Pip always did like her morsel of gossip, and did quite a bit of stirring the pot, as it were.

"Apparently, the master of the house, Mr. Jessup, has been sneaking around with the children's nanny. Mrs. Jessup, of course, has her head in the sand like an old goose." Pip was far too excited about this. The poor woman was being cheated on and Pip's only concern was juicy gossip.

"How does this concern you?" I pressed.

"I'm so glad you asked!" Pip squealed, to which I rolled my eyes. "To avoid scandal, there's talk that Mrs. Jessup plans to send me to finishing school so I can get educated and be a real lady. Mrs. Jessup wants me to be the children's new nanny, and finishing school is the only way to do that. That way, Mrs. Jessup will be free to fire the current nanny and completely disgrace any qualifications she has in the future because she's a slut! Isn't that great?"

I shook my head, flabbergasted. "Finishing school? Pip, you can't be serious. Finishing school is filled with stuffy, catty little girls. You'd rip them all apart by their corsets."

Pip nodded. She tossed another lump of sugar into her tea and stirred it. "That's true. But being the nanny means higher pay. Plus, I'll get to boss around the Jessup's hideously behaved little urchins. It's my calling, Angel."

I rolled my eyes again. "And what does Race have to say about all of this?"

"Oh! Race!" Pip squealed and then reached for my hand. "Well, you know that Race is working down at the tracks now. He finally got that job he was itching to get and he works with the bets!"

"Works with the bets?" I asked. "That sounds a little fishy, Pip."

"He only fixes a few races and they line his pockets a little bit," Pip said, looking away innocently.

I almost dropped the teacup. "He's fixing the races? Pip, that's wrong! That's criminal!"

Pip's brow furrowed slightly and she pinned me with her eyes. "This is coming from the former pickpocket?"

I frowned, my eyes hardening slightly. I hated when that was used against me. "I was doing what I had to survive," I said defensively.

"That's what we're doing." Pip sat back in her chair. "We're planning on getting married, Angel. Weddings cost money, and money we don't got. It's not forever. Just until we get some money put away, and then he swore to me he's done. He doesn't want his hands dirty as much as I don't."

"It's wrong, Pip. Even if it's for a good reason." I squeezed her hand. "I love you and I want you to be happy, but this isn't okay."

"I love you, too, Angel. You're my sister." Pip returned my squeeze. "But this is just how things are right now. It's good money. Besides, you see the way that madman is slaughtering our friends out there. I'm surprised that Spot isn't doing something similar to get you and him off the street."

I swallowed nervously. It had crossed my mind that Sean was doing something illegal to obtain the money he suddenly seemed to be having. I couldn't see him fixing horse races, though, but I couldn't fathom what else he could possibly be doing in order to make that kind of money so quickly. I had no proof of anything so it wasn't as if I could just accuse him. We were all ready on such thin ice right now. One wrong step and we would capsize. I wasn't ready for us to go under. Not until I knew what was going on.

"All right, girls. Let's wrap it up. I've given you far too long now." The matron of the house, who introduced herself as Darcy, came toddling into the kitchen where Pip and I were sitting drinking tea. "Piper, Mrs. Jessup needs you in the dining room. Apparently there was a mix up with this evening's dinner napkins."

Pip rolled her eyes but then brightened just as easily, throwing her arms around me like she always had. She reminded me so much of my Diana, who I was thinking a lot about these days. All this death brought hers right back up as if it had just happened a week ago.

"I never get to see you anymore, but I'm so glad you came around. Maybe next time you see me, I'll be a proper lady and I'll teach you and thing or two about Shakespeare or whatever it is educated ladies discuss," Pip told me matter-of-factly.

"I'll look forward to it, Pip," I assured her and then allowed Darcy to escort me out the servant's entrance of the estate.

I truly disliked being the in the expensive part of Manhattan, mostly because it served as a reminder of all the things I hated about the affluent lifestyle. More money did not mean fewer problems. I think I'd rather be broke, honestly.

Being back home did little to provide me with any sort of comfort the way that it normally did. I assisted the girls in preparing dinner and helped the younger girls straighten up their bunk area, all while feeling as if I was floating outside my body. Anxiety wrapped around my throat like a pair of hands, squeezing ever so slightly when I breathed in. Inky, black sadness threatened at the edges of my vision, covering my body like a vice.

"So how's our Pip? Didn't you go to see her today?" Joker asked me, her voice forcing me back into my body.

"Oh, yes! Do tell us?" Wicked agreed with her counterpart, leaning back to rest her body against the wall behind her.

"She's well," I said slowly, frowning. "Still herself, of course. Loud, obnoxious. The way she usually is."

Joker frowned slightly at my mechanical answer. She was always so much more perceptive than I gave her credit for. "Is that all?" she pressed me.

I saw no use hiding it from them. I glanced around us, making sure we were as private as we possibly could be. "She told me that Race was helping to fix races for money under the table." I rubbed my forehead anxiously. "She said that it was for only a short time. It's illegal, but the way she said it so easily, it was like that fact didn't matter in the slightest. I don't want Race to get in trouble or get sent to jail or anything like that."

The twins were silent for a moment, looking at each other. It was eerie the way they looked at each other sometimes, as if they were having entire conversations with just their eyes. They still hadn't spoken and the anxiety was clawing up my throat.

"Well, say something, the both of you!" I said, the bubbling anxiety giving my voice a slightly higher pitch than I'd intended.

"We gotta make a living somehow, Angel," Wicked said slowly, as if she was choosing her words carefully.

"We still steal things. Papes or no papes, we'd still steal," Joker added, shrugging her slight shoulders. "We're all sinners, Angel. None of us are perfect."

My head hurt. I rubbed my forehead again, as if that would soothe the ache. Sometimes it felt like the ache rested deep in my bones, a years old ache that would never truly heal. I didn't know how to explain to the twins that it bothered me that Racetrack was fixing horse races and taking money for it under the table.

"I get that they're trying to survive, and fixing races is a quick way of making money. I really do understand that," I said tiredly. "It just seems wrong. What if he gets caught?"

"That's a risk he has to take, I suppose," Joker said. "What if Wicked or I get caught stealing? We'd all end up the same place, you know."

"I just don't think it's a smart idea to be dancing with the Devil this way, so to speak. The Bulls are just looking for reasons to arrest us as it is. Why are we making it easier for them by actually committing a crime?"

Wicked tilted her head, her mess of light hair falling over her shoulder. "I see what you're saying, Angel. But if Pip said that Race wasn't doing this for long, his chances to be arrested are pretty low."

"It's just a means to an end, Angel. Don't get so bent." Joker reached for my hand. "It's not your responsibility to keep the entirety of New York safe."

I nodded slowly, accepting that from her. "I understand. I think I'm just tired. Spot and I had a bit of a spat a few days ago and I think that's just pressing on me right now. I'm sorry," I told the twins.

"Don't be sorry!" The girls spoke at once.

"You wouldn't be Angel if you didn't worry about everyone and not care about yourself." Joker told me.

"Maybe you should go talk to Spot? Maybe your mood would improve," Wicked suggested.

I nodded. "I think I will, actually. Will you two hold things down here? Make sure the little ones get to bed on time?"

Wicked rolled her eyes. "Bedtimes are only guidelines, Angel," she teased me.

I pinned her with a look and Joker threw her arm around her other half's shoulders, grinning at me. "Don't you worry about a damn thing, Angel. We have everything under control."

"This Lodging House better still be standing when I get back," I threatened them.

"Yes, ma'am, Queenie!" the girls chorused.

With everything cleaned up from dinner and things (mostly) in good hands with the twins, I took my leave from the Girl's Lodging House and headed towards Brooklyn Heights. The smell of salt and raw fish invaded my senses as I neared the pier and the boys' Lodging House.

It was not yet curfew, so a few boys lingered outside, sharing cigarettes and some soft conversation. They nodded at me as I approached and stepped back from hovering by the door so that I could enter. I did not see Spot in the main area, nor had I seen him lounging around outside. I climbed the worn stairs and found Silver and a few boys playing a game of poker in the middle of the floor.

"Hello, boys," I greeted them. "Have any of you seen Spot?"

Silver looked up at me, his eyebrows raised. "Hello, Angel," he said in return and then looked confused. "No, we haven't. I assumed he was with you?"

I blinked a few times, processing this. "N-No, I haven't seen him all day."

There was anxiety in Silver's eyes but he was amongst mixed company so he was forced to keep things together. "Give me a second, boys," Silver told his friends and then stood up. He took my hand and I let him lead me toward the washroom, away from prying ears. "You haven't seen him at all today?" he asked in a hushed tone, once we were alone.

I shook my head. "I saw him briefly when we were getting our papes but that was it. He kissed me and told me he would see me later, just like usual."

Silver frowned and raked an anxious hand through his hair. "Shit," he swore and then shook his head. "I don't even know where to start looking for him. The city is too big."

"You don't think he's in Brooklyn?" I asked, kind of surprised. It took quite a bit for Spot to leave the safety of his 'kingdom' as it were.

"I don't know," Silver said honestly.

"What about Sneak? Is he here?" I asked, changing tactics, trying to narrow down the list of places that Spot could be.

"No, he's not. I haven't seen him today either," Silver said, anxiety evident on his face.

"That's actually a good thing," I told him and reached for his hand. "That means they're together. Spot isn't alone out there; he has Sneak with him. He's in good hands."

"I love that you can think so positively in these dismal times," Silver said, lowering his voice again.

I shook my head, frowning. "It's not positivity. I'm trying to be logical. The last thing I feel right now is positive, Silver." He nodded slightly and then let my hand go. "Do you mind if I wait around for him?"

"Not at all. Knock yourself out, Angel. I'm sure you're the one he'd want to see anyway, not my mug," Silver said and winked cheekily at me. He reached up and squeezed my shoulder before walking past me, back towards his friends.

I quietly closed the door to Spot's room and let my hair down. I found a book of matches and lit the kerosene lamp perched on the table next to Spot's bed. I paced for a moment before I went to the window, peering out into the inky blackness of the streets. Not even the streetlights did much to illuminate the darkness on the dirty streets.

Sitting down on Spot's bed, I curled up with his blanket and breathed in the scent of him, praying that wherever he was, whomever he was with, whatever he was doing, he was all right.

I awoke with a bit of a start, feeling fingertips on my face. The room was dark, the lamp having burned itself out. Disoriented, I tried to sit up in a bit of a panic. The person in the room with me seemed to sense my actions and placed a hand over my mouth to hinder any noise that would come out.

"Relax, Liss. It's me." Sean.

My body physically sagged with relief and I reached for him in the darkness. My blind fingers brushed his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, digging into his shirt to pull him to me. My mouth devoured him for a moment, clumsily in the dark. I first kissed his cheek before I found his mouth, kissing him soundly for a moment.

"Where... have... you... been?" I whispered in between kisses.

I felt him laugh at me, my hands on his chest. His fingers curled around mine, holding my hands against him. "Did you miss me or something, Lissa?" he asked. I didn't need light to know that a very attractive pirate smile graced the lips I had just attacked.

"I thought something terrible might have happened to you," I admitted quietly. "I intended to stay up and wait for you, but I think I was more tired than I cared to admit."

"Well, I have to say, finding you in my bed is not the worst surprise I've ever gotten," he said, a laugh in his voice.

My hands searched in the darkness for the book of matches and lit the lamp again. Buttery light spread out around us and I finally got a good look at his face. The state he was in dampened my mood immediately.

The right side of his face looked a little swollen, there was a thin sliver in his lush bottom lip, and both of his hands were completely torn up at the knuckles. It looked as if he had stopped to clean himself up before coming to bed, but there were faint blood droplets on his collar.

Spot watched me take his current state in silence, his expression unreadable. "Shall we go to bed now?" he asked, after a moment.

"What happened to you?" I blurted out.

"What do you mean?" I don't know if he was feigning ignorance or what, but that was not the response I wanted at all.

I stood up immediately, wanting to kick him. "You know what I mean! You look like you got into a fight!" I said a little loudly.

"Lower your voice, Lissa," Spot said, his expression darkening slightly. "It's not a big deal. It's over now, and I'm home. So let's just go to bed."

"Stop making me feel like I'm going mad!" I accused him, turning around to glare him. "And quit hiding things from me! What the hell were you doing that you got into a fight?

"It's not really any of your business, Alissa, what I do with my time."

My palms itched to slap him. "Is that so? It's not my business to know what you're doing, but it's yours to know what I'm doing every second of the day?"

"Exactly." His cool tone only fueled my anger. "For example, I know you were with Pip today in Manhattan. How is she, by the way?"

Before I knew what I was doing, my hand reached up to strike him. Quick as a cobra, Spot grabbed my wrist before my hand connected with his face. He stood up from the bed slowly and held my wrist tight, his eyes flashing ice, a warning.

"Let. Go. Of. Me," I said, my teeth clenched together so tightly that my jaw was beginning to get sore.

He didn't respond to me right away. Instead, he flexed his wrist and began twisting my arm around. Pain spiked up my arm to my shoulder and I moved my body in order to relieve it, but it betrayed me, buckling my knees under me. I dropped to the floor before him, much like a ragdoll. Spot continued to twist my arm behind my back, holding my hand uncomfortably high, almost pulling my arm free from the socket.

"You aren't the ones who gives the orders are here. I am." He spoke directly into my ear. When I stayed quiet, he spoke again: "Apologize. Now."

"I'm sorry." The voice that spoke was foreign, definitely not mine. I did not know who this person was, and I had never been so frightened of him.

"That's much better." Spot released my hand and I was able to soothe my sore arm, my free hand squeezing my shoulder. "Get up, Alissa. I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

Doing as I was told, I got to my feet and turned around to face him. I couldn't describe the look on his face as he looked down upon me, but it sparked up my rage anew. Quicker than him this time, catching him off guard, I reeled my hand back and smacked him across the face with all my might, catching him on the swollen part of his face.

"You whore!" Spot growled, reactively shoving me backwards as hard as he could.

I tripped over my feet as I stumbled backwards and hit the other side of the room, my back against the wall. He was breathing hard, his eyes wild. He lunged at me after a beat of silence and I attempted to dart past him, trying to use my lithe body to my advantage. However, he swung himself around and buried his hands in my hair, gripping tight and using it as an anchor to drag me back. My back hit the wall hard and I let out a shriek from the pain.

"You're going to fucking regret that, Alissa. I swear to God. I could fucking kill you," he hissed at me. It was then that I noticed his breath reeked of spirits, his pupils dilated.

I spat in his face, causing him to pull my hair again. "Oh, of course you're drunk! How did I not even notice that? Let go of me, Sean Conlon, you bastard!" I shouted.

Just then, two pairs of hands gripped Spot's shoulders and pulled him backwards, which pulled me with him, seeing as his hand was still in my hair.

"Let go of her, Conlon. Now!" Silver shouted at him.

Like a switch had been flicked, Spot's grip on my hair loosened and I was able to get free of him. My heart hammered wildly in my chest as Silver and another boy I didn't know wrestled Spot to the ground, holding him down as he thrashed around against them, spewing obscenities, his face red with rage.

"Get out of here, Angel," Silver barked in my general direction.

I didn't have to be told twice. I ran out of the Lodging House and didn't stop.

Author's Note-

It's been a while, hasn't it? I am so sorry for that! So much has been going on offline, mostly regarding my mental health and things going on with my little sister. I gotta take care of myself first, yeah? Anyway, I hope everyone's still with me! I love you guys so much! Thanks for hanging in there with me!

Thanks as always to my better half Joker, my amazing guest, the much more talented than me coveredinbees14 and also Hakunaaaa Matataaaa for kicking my butt into gear! Also shoutout to Waterparks' new album called Entertainment that is so sad and aggressive and absolutely fueled this chapter. (Do you guys like Waterparks? I love them so much!)

Let me know how you felt about this chapter! I kind of want to start leaving questions in these Author's Notes to engage you guys and get you thinking! How do you guys feel about Racetrack fixing races? Do you agree with Angel that it's wrong, or Joker and Wicked, that it's simply a means to an end and a way of survival? What about that fight? Gah, Sean and Lissa have such explosive chemistry. They're so fun to write. About what about Mick? Do you trust him? Do you think he's up to no good? Tell me!

Carryin' the banner!

xx Wicked