Chapter 13

Domineering Nightmare

Flash quite liked watching the ferries in Hunters Point as they embarked on their travels across the East River. She spent most of her time in silent reverie, thinking about what it would be like to board a boat and have it take her far away; away from everything and everyone. She had no clue where she'd go. Maybe Ireland, her mother's homeland. Honestly, she didn't care. Anywhere had to be better than here. She longed for quiet. But she'd settle for Queens for now.

She found herself on a dock near the ferries, kind of off to the side. There wasn't a lot of foot traffic here, something rather rare for Queens. People spilled around every corner. This spot though, was like her own private oasis. It compared to Spot's dock in a way. Except this one was her's. And she could think here without many interruptions. It also doubled as a fairly decent selling locale. A lot of people wanted a paper while they waited to board and she had sold out pretty quickly. She had decided Queens was her new favorite borough.

She slid her shoes off and let her feet dangle in the water, the waves coming off the back of the ferry making the water lap at her ankles. She turned her thoughts to Spot. They still hadn't talked much since the meeting and Flash could feel the slow creep of emptiness settling in her stomach. She never meant to get as attached as she did. It wasn't like her. She had a mission and she normally didn't let things as meaningless as emotions stop her from following her goals. But Spot was... somewhat of an enigma. An unplanned obstacle in her path. One that she could see she couldn't go over. In a sense, she had to go under. She had to let these feelings of betrayal go and set her pride aside or she wouldn't be able to get past it. She had to set things right in order to get these nagging thoughts out of her head. To let bygones be bygones and-

"You! Hey, you! What's this I hear you're attacking my men?"

She was ripped out of her thoughts by a voice cutting through the air. She whipped her head to the side to see a broad figure coming towards her, clobbering his way across the planks on the boardwalk. He was staunch, his pinstripe patterned shirt rippling tautly over his shoulders and arms. His face was scrunched up with a look of determination and enmity. He was red and had he not looked so irritated, one might compare his complexion to that of a cherub. But there was nothing angelic about his expression.

Flash quickly got to her feet, ready to start swinging, if need be, and forced her voice not to waver. "If you're referring to those two peons from last week, they had it coming. Might I suggest you tell your "men" to pick on people of bigger stature than a ten your old?"

He was in front of her now and she could smell a faint hint of vodka and cigarettes. He curled his lip back and spit on the ground beside her. "And who are you to be making suggestions on what I tell my men?" he asked coldly.

"I'd watch your tone when speaking to someone you don't know. How about you tell your men to fight better. Tell them not to take cheap shots. And maybe tell them not to have faces so punchable. I couldn't resist." Flash jutted her chin forward and gave him a smirk, not backing down.

The boy glared at her for a moment before taking a step back, cocking his head to the side and clucking his teeth. "Hmmm... with the way they talked, I thought you'd be in worse shape than what you are," he spoke softly, menace in his voice. "They told me they left you in the dirt."

Flash huffed and rolled her eyes. "Please. The only thing those two are capable of beating is an egg. And that alone would take both of their combined braincells to figure out how to do."

The boy laughed wryly. "You may be right. But it doesn't change the fact that I had to pay for Taper to get his head stitched up. And it wasn't cheap. So, I'm going to need you to dig in your pockets and reimburse me for that." He held out a callous-covered hand and it took Flash everything in her not to smack it

She laughed incredulously. "I'm not giving you a damn thing. They were taking money from a child. They deserved what they got."

"They have dues to pay to me, so I really don't give a damn how they get their money. Just like I don't care how you get yours. As long as they have enough to line my pockets at the end of the day. What I do care about is you giving me what is rightfully mine."

Flash crossed her arms to stop her hands from shaking. Her adrenaline was coursing through her and she needed to slow it down before she did something she'd regret. Her hand was just now healing up from the last scrap she had gotten into.

She raised an eyebrow and stuck out her chest, unfaltering. "Come take it then. I dare you. I don't give a shit how big you are, I'll lay you out faster than your mother can button her overalls."

The boy crossed one arm and raised his hand to rest under his chin, his fingers rubbing the bottom of his lip. He looked like he was contemplating the best way to go about something. "You know Spot?" He asked finally.

"That pompous, arrogant ass? Yeah, I know of him."

He stood there in silence for a good while, mulling over her answer. She could see the gears turning in his head. "Tell you what, I'll let you pay off your debt with a service. You're working for me now."

Flash snorted. "Doing what? You need someone to give you a proper haircut or something? I'll admit, I'm not that handy with a pair of scissors. The best I could do is make you a paper chain." She swallowed quietly, sensing where this conversation was going.

"Think of this job as more of..." he paused, looking for the right word, "a soldier. You'd be on my crew working... security detail."

"You want me to be a part of your club? Well, I guess I could do that."

"It's not a club," he said crossly. "It's an army. Designed to take down Spot Conlon and his little friends. And return power to where it belongs. If you do well enough, I might even keep you around afterwards."

"Oh, if I could be so lucky," she guffawed. He didn't make any inclination of a response so she cleared her throat and rolled back her shoulders. "Sure kid. I can do that. Anything to take that no-good piece of work off his high horse."

"It's Phillips. And good. I'm glad we're on the same page," he grinned darkly. "We'll meet up on Friday. Be at that corner store on Freeman Avenue in Ravenswood at 2 o'clock. I'll send one of my guys to get you and bring you to our headquarters. Um...what was your name again?"

"Flash."

"Flash? Well alright, Flash. Don't be late. Wouldn't be a good thing for you, I can promise you that," he threatened vaguely before turning around and sauntering off in the distance.

She let out a small breath of relief when he was far enough away. Jesus Christ, what had she gotten herself into?

Betsy's shrieks of laughter pierced through the damp air as she and Spot made their way back to the dock. She always thought that everything he said was the funniest thing she had ever heard. That's one thing Spot liked about her. She had no problems treating him like the King he was. Yeah, she was a whore. He had met her at the brothel a while back. But she was instantly smitten and had no problems voicing it either. Maybe not always in the most intelligent ways. She was a bit simple-minded, not a lot going on upstairs. But, whore or not, she was always up for a good time.

"When are you gonna ask me to be your girl, Spot?" She asked him, her big brown eyes gleaming with hope. "You know I'd be so good to you." She pulled him in for a kiss and Spot let her, their lips grazing clumsily against each other. Kissing her was nice, but Spot felt nothing remotely strong for her. There were other people he'd like to kiss more. This thing with Betsy was all in good fun, just like it was with everyone else that warmed his bed.

They pulled away from each other and Spot dropped his voice low, as if explaining things to a small child. "Now Bets, we talked about this. You're a fun gal and all, but I'm not the partner type."

She poked her lip out and furrowed her brows. "But you could be," she mumbled softly. She took his hands in hers and traced circles around his bruised knuckles. "I could be whatever you want. I could be anyone you want. I would do that for you."

Spot let his mind wander. Well... she couldn't be anyone he wanted. He shook his head to clear away the thought and let his hands drop from hers. She began to frown so he put an arm around her shoulders. That seemed to placate her enough because the corners of her mouth turned up to form a shy smile.

"I know you would, Betsy. That's what I love about you. Always willing to go that extra mile. But like I said, I'm not the partner type. I don't really have the need for it. What I do need is for you to keep doing that thing I like." He smirked, changing the subject. She giggled and took his arm, lowering it to rest on her rear.

They rounded the corner of his dock, conversing in hushed tones as Betsy told him everything that she was going to do to him. Spot laughed and gripped her ass tighter. She spun to kiss him again and Spot caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette perched atop the railing toward the end of the pier. He felt his stomach drop to his ankles and his heartbeat rang in his ears.

"Oh, Spot, I can feel your heart beating a mile a minute," Betsy cooed at him, grazing her lips along his neck. "I must have excited you."

"Sorry for interrupting you, Spot. I can see you have your hands full," Flash scoffed, her voice cold.

Spot took a quick step back from Betsy, who turned to look at Flash. "Oh, not at all, darling," Betsy beamed, unaware of her hostile tone. "I can always come back later if you two need a moment. I know you're a very busy man." She kissed Spot quickly on the lips and he made no move to reciprocate, his eyes boring into Flash's.

Betsy walked swiftly down the dock and Flash listened as her footsteps grew quieter and quieter. Neither her nor Spot made a sound as they stood there staring blankly at each other.

Spot cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to speak. She was still sitting on the ledge, her hands gripped so tightly on the wood that her knuckles were turning white.

"Was that your new toy of the week? As a kid, I was more partial to wooden cars. I can see you like the rag dolls though. Or do you like make believe? You're good at pretending," she fumed.

Spot just shrugged nonchalantly and took out a cigarette. It would take more than childish words to muss up his psyche. "Betsy is just Betsy. And frankly, who I chose to spend my time with isn't any of your concern, is it? I don't hound you for being chummy with the Manhattan guys."

She scoffed again and jumped down, her feet landing with a hard thud. "Those guys are my friends."

"And Betsy is mine," he said definitively.

"Oh yeah, she looked quite friendly from where I was sitting."

"Why are you here, Allie?" he asked her quietly.

She chewed on her bottom lip. Yes, she was here to tell him about Phillips. But only partly. She had come here to try to make amends with him. But seeing him with Betsy infuriated her all over again. She knew what kind of person Spot was. She had listened to those idiot girls cry about him every night. She'd heard many stories about the infamous Spot Conlon. And she despised him. But... she liked Sean. She missed her friend, the person he was before he became Spot in her brain. They were two different people and she couldn't sync them up in her head. She longed for a person that didn't really seem to exist. One that Spot had shoved down into the deepest corners of his being.

"It's Phillips. Phillips is the guy behind all this."

Spot's face contorted in shock. "Phillips? That good-for-nothing scumbag?" He sighed in disbelief. "Shit. I didn't think he'd have it in him. He was sore at me for a long while. When he disappeared, I just assumed he'd left town."

Flash chomped down on the mangled skin around her thumb. "I'm supposed to meet him Friday. Apparently, they have a whole headquarters stationed in Queens. Those two guys from last week are some of his croonies."

He gave her a quizzical look. "What two guys from last week?" he asked confused.

Flash had forgotten that they hadn't seen each other in a couple weeks. Not since he had given her official orders to go snooping in Harlem. But still, she thought someone would have told him by now. "Those two guys I stopped from trying to shake down that ten-year-old. They worked me over a little. But I was able to clean myself up with Racetrack's help. I don't really remember having too much to do with Whip. But Phillips had to pay for Taper to get stitches." She smiled to herself at the thought. "That's how he found me. He was trying to squeeze me for the money to pay him back."

Spot felt a warmness creep from his stomach up his neck. He let a breath out through his nose and clenched his teeth. "What the hell were you doing fighting two people without backup? Do you have some sort of a death wish? Anyone with half a brain knows that's stupid!"

Flash shrugged her shoulders. "Eh. I've dealt with worse. I've fought kids in the schoolyard, and let me tell you, there are no holds barred in a schoolyard fight. I made light work of those two."

Spot pondered what she said, remembering all the scars he'd seen on her a few months ago. Those hadn't come from a few kids simply tussling. They were deep cuts, ugly blotchy burns. And then he remembered the conversation about her father and the picture. He was no small man by any means. If she could fight him off and live to tell the tale, then two low-life assholes shouldn't be much of a threat. He felt his shoulders relax and he unclenched his jaw, moving it side to side to loosen it up.

"Alright, Allie. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt this time. But no more of that. I don't want you jeopardizing your safety any more than you already are."

Flash snorted and puffed on her own cigarette, letting it hang out of her mouth. "There you go again, pretending. But okay, Spot. I'll let you keep up your façade."

"What do you mean 'pretending'? Just what am I pretending to do?" he snapped, reaching in his barrel and pulling out his bottle of gin. He opened it and took a hearty drink, dribbling a little out of the corner of his mouth. He'd already had a decently substantial amount of alcohol but talking to Flash gave him the need to drink more. She kept complicating things. Just when he had started to distract himself, to push her out of his head, here she was. Anyone would need a stiff drink after talking to her.

"Pretending like you actually give a shit. We both know that it isn't true. Spot Conlon doesn't care about anyone but himself and what he wants. You never take into consideration what other people might want. It's always you, you, you. You and your goddamn reputation!" she spat, flicking her cigarette so hard the cherry broke off. She got out her matches and lit it again.

"You're still stuck on that?" he shouted. "It's been weeks, Flash. If you haven't gotten it by now, then you probably never will. I laid things out in black and white to you. This is how things have to be!"

"Your black and white is muddled. It looks awfully grey to me. You'll be my friend and be Sean when we're alone with no witnesses. But let another person walk 'round the corner and see how quick your tune changes. You become this... This... Domineering nightmare that I can't get away from! It fucking haunts me. Everything I do in this god-forsaken city revolves around you. I had to put my stuff aside to cater to what you need."

Spot snickered and puffed again. "You offered, remember? So don't go throwing that in my face. No one asked you to stay. You're not being held against your will. I don't need you."

Flash felt her eyes burn and her nose started stinging. That cut deeper than she anticipated but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She took a quiet, deep breath and steadied her voice. "Don't worry, once I'm finished here, I'm gone. I won't step foot back in your glorious city," she retorted nastily. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for my friends. The ones that aren't afraid to be their real selves. The ones that don't have a reputation so fragile that being nice to other people would shatter it. Because unlike you, I care about other people."

Spot was growing annoyed. She knew it wasn't like that. He did care. But once she left town, that was it. She didn't have to be in the turmoil and aftermath of it all. It wasn't her life that would be affected, it was his. He had to look out for himself because there was no one else that would. Sometimes he wished that he never would have become leader of anything. It caused him more stress than what it was worth. Didn't she see that he stuck around because his people needed him? How was that selfish?

"I never said you were doing this for me. You've made that abundantly clear. I thought we agreed to be civil though. You lashing out at me is the opposite of that."

"I had full intentions on being civil with you, but maybe I changed my mind tonight. Maybe something put my mind straight where it needed to be."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And what would that be?"

"Don't play me for a fool, Spot. You know."

Spot shrugged. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't."

"Is this just a game to you? Do you take pleasure in pissing me off? Because if this really were a game, you'd be bringing home the gold. If you're too stupid to figure it out, then I'm not telling you," She chortled.

Spot smirked, unperturbed by her sarcastic comment. He took another drink from his bottle and stashed it back in its hiding place. "If you're too chicken-shit to tell me what's really going on inside that pretty little head of yours, that's your own problem. It sounds like you have some issues to work through."

"Oh, I have issues?"

"That's what I said."

Flash threw her hands up in frustration. "You're the one with issues! You're two different people inhabiting one body! Doesn't it make you tired? How do you sleep at night knowing you have to wake up and fake who you are?"

"On my side."

Flash groaned and rubbed at her temple. She threw her finished cigarette over the side of the dock into the water. "You're so fucking infuriating. This is a joke to you."

"Does it look like I'm laughing?" Spot peered at her from under his newsie cap. He'd admit, she was somewhat intoxicating when she was angry. Her expressions hard but oddly feminine. She argued with a fierce passion. Bless the man that got to be with her one day. He'd never get any sleep. "Are you done yet?"

"Am I done? Really?"

"Go home, Allie." He turned to leave but she grabbed his wrist. He felt electricity shoot up his elbow.

"No. I'm not finished."

"Yes. You are." He ripped his arm from her grasp. "I don't have time for this. I have to go meet Betsy. Go. Home."

"Right. Betsy," Flash said softly to herself as she watched Spot's figure grow smaller and smaller until he disappeared, leaving her standing there alone.