Brewin' in the Boroughs

Sequel?

Okay, I've started working on another story! I have it planned as part of a trilogy type thing that doesn't include this book, but the book I'm working on takes place after this... I'm not quite sure how to explain it, it's really weird, but whatever.

Anyway... I figured I'd give y'all a sneak peek!

***
The roof had always been Jack's place to think. When he was younger Race hadn't understood, but now he did.

The lodge's fire escape had become his safe haven over the past few weeks. He found himself constantly fleeing the stifling atmosphere of the lodge in favor of the cool evening air.

He would lean against the metal bars with his legs hanging over the edge, gently swinging back and forth. It was the perfect way to clear his mind, especially now.

Race's fingers shook as he pulled a cigar out of his pocket. He lit a match, but his hands were trembling so much that he dropped it before he could light the cigar.

He let out a curse as he lit another match, quickly bringing the cigar to his mouth, trying to forget. His mind seemed frozen, yet at the same time it was racing; all the thoughts running through this head, the conversation playing itself over and over again until he wanted to scream.

"Hey, Race! Can I talk to you for just a second?"

"Go ahead," Race responded, scanning his cards.

Jack stood beside Race and shook his head. "I'm afraid that ain't gonna work. I need to speak with you in confidence."

"Can't it wait?" Race groaned. He reluctantly dropped his cards face down on the table and stood up. "You better not look at those, Rome."

"I won't!" Romeo exclaimed.

Race shot the boys a grin and tipped his hat before following Jack upstairs. If he'd payed more attention he would have seen the serious look on Jack's face.

Race's hand tightened around the steel bar, the other one still clutching his cigar for comfort. If he'd noticed how Jack looked he wouldn't have followed him, no way.

He would've come up with an excuse, any excuse, and would have ignored Jack for as long as he could. Then he wouldn't be stuck in this mess, he wouldn't have to deal with any of these problems . . .

But he had followed Jack and he did hear what the older boy had to say, and now he had no way out. All he could do was sit out here on the fire escape and pretend, pretend it was yesterday or the day before. Pretend that nothing was wrong. Pretend that he had a say in this. Pretend that he wasn't next.

But he was.

"What's this about Jacky? Make it quick, I got some money I'm about to win."

"Do you want to sit down?"

"Do I look like I want to sit down? If I wanted to sit I wouldn't be standin'!" Race shook his head. "Are you okay?"

Jack seemed nervous, a completely foreign emotion for the leader to be wearing. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Then what's the look for?" Race bit his lip, his fingers twitching. Race couldn't help it, Jack's nerves were affecting him; they always did. Anytime Jack was worried, all of the boys were certain to feel it soon.

Luckily for them, Jack wasn't worried often. That was one of the things that made him such a great leader. He could keep his emotions in check, he could keep his boys calm.

"Race, I been thinkin'-"

"Well then there's your problem! No good ever comes when you tries to think!" Race's attempt to lighten the mood fell flat.