Brewin' in the Boroughs

Chapter 27

It was a couple of days after the incident when Spot got word from Richmond about the Bronx's next attack on Brooklyn. Hay had told him all about Hook's plan to head into the borough and take over the next Friday evening.

"How'd you get 'im to tell you all of this?" Spot asked, suspicion lacing his words.

"I told him we'd help out," Hay admitted. "Said we'd meet 'im here."

"What time will they get here?" Race piped up.

Hay shrugged. "'Bout eleven. They want to make sure the bulls ain't out. Hook knows that you'll put up a fight, so he's prepared. I heard that theyse bringin' weapons. It'll be bad," he said, shoving some hair out of his eyes.

"I better let Kelly know," Spot said. "We'll see you then."

Spot and Hay shook hands and Race gave Richmond's leader a small nod. With that, Hay left, leaving Spot and Race to themselves outside of the Brooklyn lodge.

"What are you thinkin' about?" Race asked cautiously. Spot had kept mostly to himself, ignoring even Race, since that night at the docks.

He hadn't even directly told his friend what happened, but Race had his suspicions.

"It ain't important."

"You gotta talk to me eventually," Race said calmly.

"I don't got to do anything." Spot's face was dark, eyes stormy. He didn't want to tell Race what had happened. He didn't want his closest friend to think less of him because of it.

Race groaned, "Fine, be that way. Don't tell me nothin'. It ain't like we're brothers or anything." Race moved as if heading into the lodge.

"I hurt a boy. Real bad."

Race stopped, looking at Spot. "I figured."

"You don't understand!" Spot exclaimed, his hands shaking. "I killed him! He's dead Race!"

"I know," Race repeated, patting Spot's shoulder.

"Why are you actin' like this ain't a big deal? I killed someone Higgins!"

"Why?" Race asked.

Spot glared up at Race, brows furrowed. "You know why!"

"No! Tell me," Race insisted.

"They kid was drownin' Sniper and they were gonna kill me too! Then it would've been Tommy Boy. I couldn't let that... I just..."

"Then I don't think you did anythin' wrong. You was protecting people. There's nothin' wrong with that."

"You don't hate me?" Spot mumbled in a rare moment of vulnerability.

"Why would I hate you? You saved Sniper and Tommy! If anything, I like youse a little more now!"

"Really?"

"Of course!" Race reassured, wrapping an arm around Spot's shoulders. "Now come one! You've gotta tell the boys about the Bronx! We need to start preparing."

"That's right. Let's go," Spot said, returning to his normal tough demeanor.

"After you Spotty Boy," Race smirked.

Spot rolled his eyes as he pushed open the door. "I don't know why I keep youse around."

***