Brooklyn, Baby | Spot Conlon ²

Chp. 38: the Ultimatum

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An hour went by, but to Spot, it seemed like a lifetime. 

"Kenny's been gone for a while," Fetch commented while the boys played poker downstairs. 

Spot looked up, bouncing his leg. He had been counting the minutes since she'd been gone. He was really starting to regret letting her go by herself. 

Bucky noticed. "She'll be back soon,"

"I shoulda gone wit ha," Spot growled, standing up and knocking a chair down. 

The boys stayed silent, letting Spot rage. Bucky was watching Spot pace with a careful eye. He knew how much of a wreck Spot was when he didn't have Kenny. 

"We can send some spies out," Ace stood up. "I's personally will go out," 

"I'll come too," Spot ran his hand through his hair. 

Some boys gathered together, and Spot led the group out of the dock house. At the door, they were stopped by a familiar face. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Spot growled. 

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" Skiddy smirked. 

"You got about ten seconds to tell me where Ken is before I--"

"If I's dead I ain't any use to you's anymore," Skiddy laughed. 

Spot was fuming, and Bucky holds his forearm back. 

"Don't do anything stupid," Bucky whispered. 

"I'll kill 'em," Spot barked. 

"We'll kill her first," Skiddy sang. 

"Tell me where the fuck she is." 

"And if I don't?"

Spot's newsies start crowding toward the door, sizing Skiddy up. Spot smirked, a sense of pride instilling in him that he created this unity in his boys. 

"Just tell us what the fuck you want," Bucky growled. 

"I want you dead, if we's bein' honest," Skiddy said casually. 

"The feeling' is more than mutual," 

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Kenny sat, hands tied behind her back, sweating and breathing loudly. Eric smirked, circling her as his father sat waiting by the window. 

"You know, I don't normally mind being in this position, but it's getting a bit old." 

Eric laughed. "You always were such a wild girl, such a shame you had to keep her tame while in North Carolina." 

"You know nothing about me," 

"You told me you loved me once." He stated. 

"Clearly you can't tell a liar from a truth-speaker." She spat. 

"Because you weren't all over me when you thought your deadbeat was gone," 

"Shut the fuck up--" 

She was cut off by a slap across her face. Her cheek stung, and her jaw was wide open. 

"That is no way to speak to a superior," John spat. 

"You are no superior to me." 

He slapped her again, harder. 

"The lengths you go for that ragged newsie," Eric sighed, kneeling down to her level. He stuck a finger under her chin, and she moved her face away angrily.