Rebuilt

Chapter 17

"Oscar!?" I whisper shout, "are you'se crazy? The fellas will kill me if they see me with you'se."

Oscar shrugs, "well that's why I'm in an alley."

I roll my eyes, "what do you want?" I lean against the cool brick wall.

Oscar approaches me, he puts his hand on my shoulder, "I wanted to see you'se again."

I back away, "nu-uh. Nope. Not interested Oscar."

He frowns, "fine." He backs away, "but I'se do have something that might be able to help you'se."

Oscar seemed like a good guy compared to his brother, he hasn't harassed me, and when I told him I wasn't interested he promptly backed off. Though, if the guys found out I was hanging with Oscar Delancey on the side, they would never let me out of there sights again. Regardless if I told them nothing had happened.

"When are you free the most?" Oscars question was strange, though I answered.

"Lunch...why?"

"I," he said pushing off the wall. "Am going to teach you how to read."

My mouth drops wide, I shake my head. "That's not gonna work, are ya nuts?! How will I tell the fellas? They'll never agree to it! You'se saw how they reacted earlier at the gate."

Oscar clicked his tongue, "who said we need to tell them?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"I'se did," I walk up to Oscar and push him on the shoulder. "I really like these guys an-"

"Some more than others," Oscar interrupts with a wink.

"Shut it," I say continuing. "And I'se really want the fellas to like me..."

Oscar rolls his eyes, "fine, but when-"

"If."

"They find out, I don't want to be gettin' beat up for no reason.  I'm just helpin' you out."  Oscar starts to walk towards the mouth of the alley. 

"Wait," I raise a hand.  "Why are you'se even helpin me?"

"Because, I'm a gentlemen and that's what gentlem-"

"You'se ain't no gentle men."

Oscar turns around, "for the love of god Blades, stop cutin' me off!"

I stare at him, "that wasn't me."

Oscar opens his mouth and gestures to the empty alley around us, "then who the hell was it?!"

"It was me."

Oscar and I both look around, clueless. 

"Idiots," the voice mutters.  "Above you."

Oscar and I look up.

Spot Conlon sits on the edge of a rusted fire escape, picking at his nails. He looks down to us and scoffs. "What's a pretty goirl like you, hangin' around a rich bastard like good ol' Oscar Delancey? Hm?" He jumps down from the fire escape and approaches the two of us. "You'se gonna answer my question?"

I feel strong hands around my shoulders, I look up and see Oscar, eyes locked on Spot, and no intention of letting me go. "Leave Spot, this ain't Brooklyn." Spot chuckles at Oscars attempt of trying to convince him to leave.

"Get ya hands off the goil, Delancey." Spot stalks towards Oscar, fists clenching and unclenching.

Oscar cracked his neck, "like I said. This ain't your territory. You'se cant tell me what to do."

Spots nostrils flail, "last time I checked, that ain't you goil, so get ya hands off her."

I look back and forth between the two males, what's goin' on?

"This ain't ya territory, Conlon." Oscar practically is hissing at Spot.

Spot unclenched his fist one final time, he started to walk towards Oscar and I. I find myself backing into Oscars embrace. Spot walked by Oscar and I, taking slow steps. I release a breath of relief.

"Don't worry doll, I wouldn't have let that troublemaker hurt you."

I nod and begin to walk in the opposite direction of Spot, and evidently trouble.

Metal hits metal as I turn around and see Spot pinning Oscar against the front of an overfilling dumpster. Spot punches Oscar square in the jaw, once, twice, three ti-

Grabbing Spots wrist, Oscar switches places with Spot, pinning him against the dumpster. Kneeing Spot in the groin, Oscar gets a kick in the chest.

"Stop," my voice is nothing more of a squeak. Each second that passed the fight gets more and more brutal, more and more blood splattering against the concrete. I feel my throat beginning to tighten, "stop," my voice can still barley be heard I've the brutal punches being thrown.

My vision gets blurry and my stomach being to roll. "Stop, please. Stop..." I stumble towards Oscar and Spot.
Spot pushes Oscar down on the ground and punches his repeatedly, I reach for the pocketknife in my pants, pulling it out of my pocket, I flick the blade out.

"Stop," I say one last time. The boys continue t0 fight.

As a final attempt I take a deep breath, "STOP!" I scream as loud as my shot voice would let me. Spot looks up, busted lip, already blackening eye. He smiles at me and spits in Oscars face, standing Spot opens his arms wide, as if going in for a hug.

"It's all fun and games doll," he cracks his knuckles once again, continuing to walk towards me.

"You wouldn't hit a girl, Spot." Oscar spits blood.

"For you," Spot says, smirking. I hold my blade tight in my hand, I stumble forward, attempting to protect myself. Though I am met with a punch from Spot square in my gut. "I would."

I double over on my hands and knees, coughing. Spot bent down, grabbing my collar, putting his mouth right next to my ear , "that's what you get for runin' away from Brooklyn."

I continue to cough, gagging, I throw up all of the bread I had eaten at lunch. Spot walks off while Oscar and I are still down, knowing that neither of us were dumb enough to go after him for revenge.

"Hey, hey, shhh, you're okay." Oscar pulls me into his lap and cradles my head. "He's gone, you're fine."

Oscar held me, cradling me in his arms resting his chin on the top of my head.

I crack open my eyes and look up at Oscars bloody face.

I let out a shaking sob, "I'm sorry."

AN: Who do you ship Blades with?