I awoke with the first hint of daylight, feeling something warm against my back. Spot. I was still in his bed, and he was curled up against me, sleeping. I stayed completely still, not wanting to disturb him. If there was one thing I had learned since meeting Spot, it was that newsies didn't get enough sleep, and Spot got less than the others. It seemed like only a moment later, though I know it must have been closer to a half hour, that he stirred. His arm slid around my waist, and he pulled me into his chest gently.
"Morning," he murmured into my hair.
"Morning," I answered. "Why didn't you send me back to my bed?"
"Still wet," he mumbled. "Besides, why pass up the chance to have a girl in my bed for the night?" I shivered as he nuzzled the back of my neck.
"Oh, I see," I teased gently, squirming a bit to keep his breath from tickling my neck. "You have a reputation to maintain, so you're taking advantage of me."
He smirked into my hair. I felt it and shivered again. "Sure am," he answered. "Not every girl gets to share a bed with Spot Conlon. You should feel honored."
"Wow, I didn't realize you had that much trouble finding girls," I fired back, turning to face him. He propped himself up on his elbow and smiled arrogantly.
"I have no problem finding girls," he told me, arching an eyebrow haughtily. "Just ones worthy enough."
I laughed at his arrogance. "Gosh, is there a limit to your ego?" I asked.
"It's just honesty," he answered, and then his playful smile softened and he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear before leaning down. "I could get used to this," he breathed, and my own breath hitched. He moved his face along mine, bringing his lips from my ear down to my lips for a kiss. I had to agree with him; I could get used to this, too. It wasn't long before the kiss became more serious, and I felt his tongue requesting access to my mouth. I opened up to him, tightening my arms around his neck. This was a far cry from the few soft kisses we had shared so far. His hand tightened on my waist for an instant before he pulled himself back, breathing hard. I realized I was breathing hard, too—and trembling.
"I should get up," he whispered shakily, and he moved swiftly up and over to the small dresser. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing as I heard him move around the room. I heard the other newsies moving around and realized it was still quite early. And here I had planned for Spot to sleep.
"It's still early," I countered. "You should get some more sleep."
"Nah. Gotta teach you to fight, right?" he replied, heading down to join the other boys in the washroom downstairs. I took the hint and went to my own room to get ready for the day. Someone had cleaned up the remains of the bath in the washroom and stripped the sheets from my bed, hanging them out on the line to dry. I touched the mattress, and finding it and the sheets dry, set about bringing them in and putting my bed back together. Spot came in as I was working. Without a word he helped me finish up.
"The boys left," he said as we finished.
"I heard," I grinned. They were pretty loud.
"Want to join them for some food before they go sell?" he asked, and I nodded. We can't afford to turn down free food, even if it is just some bread from the local aid society. We caught up with the boys-and the girls-and enjoyed some company as we munched the bread we had received. Then we returned to the lodging house, Jimmy trailing behind us, and headed onto the roof so I could learn a bit more about fighting.
"Okay, Cat. There's a few things you should know about fighting," Spot explained. "First off, if you can avoid fighting, do it. Talk it out, run away, try talking until you can run, whatever you can do. I don't want you fighting unless you absolutely have to."
"Well, that's obvious," I said, the corners of my mouth twitching. "Why would I want to fight?"
"Boys say that all the time, then try to fight because they want to prove something."
"I guess girls are smarter than boys," I fired back, and he grinned.
"Probably," he conceded, then turned back to the lesson. "The next thing to remember is that if you are forced to fight, there are no rules. Anyone who can't be talked down has it in for ya enough to want to hurt ya. It's okay to do whatever you can-including hurting them first-to make sure that doesn't happen. Anything goes. Any weapons, any techniques, any help you get-take it." His face was serious as he spoke, and I nodded slowly, my expression now equally serious. "That's why the slingshot is so good. You can do damage from a distance, so you can avoid getting close enough to get hurt."
We spent some time going over how to block or deflect kicks and punches, how to throw a punch, and a few other things. I noticed that balance was key, and he pointed out that there was a reason his newsies often played balance games on the docks. We played a few, and while I can be clumsy in a lot of ways, we found that my balance was actually pretty good. It felt like we'd been at this awhile, but it couldn't have been more than a half hour when Legs came up the fire escape.
"You're going to want to see this," he said to Spot, handing him a pape. His face was flushed as if he'd run from the distribution office. Spot scanned the headline and his face twisted. He took a few moments to read the article, then unleashed a muttered string of profanities like I had never heard.
"The boys all read it?" he asked Legs.
"Most of them," he replied. "They're all ready for word from you."
I could see Spot considering his options.
"No," he said finally. "I want them to sell aggressively. Have them get the public looking. Except Henry. He should-"
"He's already there," Legs said, and Spot nodded curtly.
"After morning papes I may want a few guys back here," he said, then waved his hand to dismiss Legs.
"Thanks, Boss," Legs said, disappearing over the ledge.
"Damn," Spot muttered to himself. He ran his hand through his hair, a gesture I had learned meant something was troubling him. After a few moments, I walked over to stand beside him and put my hand on his arm.
"What's wrong?" I asked. He seemed to consider a moment, then turned his head to look at me.
"The police couldn't find him. He's gone," Spot said.
"What-I mean, why-I thought," I started. I took a deep breath, organized my thoughts, and tried again. "How did he know they were coming for him?"
"That's what has me worried," Spot said, his eyes turning back to look out over the city. "The pape said he disappeared from work on Thursday afternoon and hasnt been back. That's the day we took Muriel to Manhattan. I think he knew when she disappeared on him that things were coming to a head. That means he probably knows you're here, and that makes me nervous."
"I'll be okay. I won't go with him again," I said, my hand still on his arm. He covered it with his other hand, turning fully towards me.
"He threatened Muriel," he said softly, and my eyes widened a bit. "She's pretty frightened, and from the sound of things, she's right to be. I don't like not knowing where he is and what he's up to."
Spot's words scared me. I hadnt known that about Muriel. Antonio had never seemed dangerous to me-he had intimidated me, to be sure, but he had never threatened me. If Spot was genuinely concerned, then there was a reason, and that thought alone set me to wondering if he would turn up here.
"Hey, it's okay," Spot reassured me, and I realized I was trembling. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. We'll figure this out," he said. He kissed my forehead, and I instantly felt better.
"So I guess we should keep practicing, huh?" I asked, and he chuckled.
"I guess so," he said, and we resumed our sparring and balance games. Somehow, though, I felt like a part of Spot's mind was elsewhere.