Kings Racetrack- A Sprace fanfic

5- The Key to a Heart

A/n- I posted this on Ao3 and I completely forgot to do the same on here- So here I am now! Longest chapter yet I'd say - Enjoy! (Ps... I don't know anything about the Brooklyn Bridge please pretend I know the architecture thaaanks)

----

Spot sat himself in the corner at the secluded place he always did at the lodging house. He was picking at his scalp, zoning out to look like he was deep in thought. He leaned back in his chair with a huff. This was a common occurrence, Spot was the lone soul in the lodging house. He always seemed to sell his papers faster than the others. It's just how things turned out, Spot had gotten used to it.

He looked out the window, he still had more time before the others returned. Then the sound of the door opening surprised him. Hotshot walked in first, Scout following in behind her. They were quiet. Scout's already big eyes were wider than usual as the two shared a nod. Scout turned the opposite direction and went up the stairs presumably to the bunks. Hotshot watched the other climb a moment, he finally turned his attention to Spot. Hotshot's brow was furrowed. That made Spot sit tall in his seat.

"Hey Boss. I's just got word from Scout." Hotshot stepped towards Spot, she took a breath. It felt like it was years long. "Jack's boys got pretty beat by the bulls. They went through with their plan, and according to Smalls- Jack's gone missin' too." Hotshot finished, Spot's lips pressed into a thin line. His mind immediately went to a certain someone.. he quickly pushed that thought away. Though it still wanted to linger.

"They actually did it.. Kelly's stubborn. I's knew he'd attempt somethin' but.." Spot breathed. What stayed with Spot the most was the idea of Jack being missing. Sounded like those boys now don't have a leader, that concerned him. Spot had cut himself off, which was something he rarely did. He usually spoke his mind thoroughly.

"You's did say they had to show you they was serious." Hotshot said, Spot blinked up at her. Spot only pondered that for a moment as that feeling of dread settled in his chest. He looked down at his hands.

"I's gonna put it plainly because you's need to hear it." Hotshot spoke again, Spot looked back up at her. "They need our help. Not to pat ourselves on the back but without Brooklyn they're not gonna stand a chance against the papes." Hotshot finished with a huff.

"I know." Spot said with a monotone Hotshot knew all too well. She cracked a smile as if he could read the king like a good book.

...

Race stumbled into the lodging house. He'd been running and hiding around the block avoiding the bulls for a good while. His eye stung and burned. He knew he'd have a few bruises on his shoulder and chest. Those bulls really did a number on him and he hated it. He hated that they could just do that to them. Was that his excuse to personally punch Weasel in the face? Maybe. Did he regret it one bit? Absolutely not! That was an adrenaline rush in itself.
He choked on his heavy breath. His eyes had been screwed shut.. until now.

Race's eyes widened at the scene in front of him. His eyes scanned the room, there were groups of boys with bloodied clothes. He jumped as Buttons ran by with three rolls of gauze and pillowcases to use as slings. That made the Race's stomach drop harder, some kids had broken bones. They've been hurt so badly that.. Race gulped.

"Has anyone seen Jack??" Race practically shouted into the room of wounded newsboys, his friends. No one spoke up, not a word said, Race's shoulders slumped, his chest ached. He felt a small jolt of relief as he saw a head of recognizable red hair in the dining room.

"Al-Al- Hey, wh-where's Jack?" Race stammered over his words, his stutters masked as chuckles. Albert had been wrapping a piece of cloth around his arm right above his elbow. He looked up at Race, his eyes weren't as lively as Race usually saw them..