Trapped Where There Ain't No Future

12

So what, youse gonna kill me?" Spot said.

"Didn't get ta be da King o' Brooklyn foah yoah brains, didja Spot?" Fox sneered. "'Course I am. What else would ya be useful foah?"

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With a nod from Fox, Stone cut the rope that tethered Spot to the floor and tugged him up roughly.

"Killin' like dis, not even in a fight?" Spot scoffed, even though he was swaying a little where he stood. "What's dat gonna prove ta anyone? Youse a 'sassin, plain 'n simple. A low-life, dirty rott'n piece o' scum dat cain't beat anyone in a fair fight, not least da King o' Brooklyn."

Fox backhanded him across the face and Spot's head snapped backwards. "Youse'll shuddup if ya know what's good foah ya. Dis don't hafta be painful, but it shoah can be."

"Prolly got Calico in his sleep, didn't even face 'im square on like a man." Spot continued, his words slightly mumbled because of his now swollen lip.

"Dat's it." Fox's face took on a deep scowl and he pulled a pair of brass knuckles from his pocket.

"Wait!" I said frantically, pulling on my ropes, not believing what was happening.

"Ya got anythin' ta say foah reals, oah you just gonna waste my time?" Fox said coldly.

I gathered the fragmented pieces of my thoughts and tried to form a coherent sentence. "Look, the reason you grabbed Spot was because of the borough war, right?"

Fox nodded.

"So what's killin' him gonna do?" I asked.

"Send a message ta Brooklyn- send a message ta all o' New York! Queens ain't just some filthy li'l run-down town, we has powah." Fox said.

"Wouldn't it be a bigger message if you didn't kill him?" I pressed.

"A message that what, we's a bunch o' soft hahted scabbahs?" Fox scoffed.

"You don't kill 'im, you keep 'im." I said. "Like... keep 'im locked up, whatever you want. Make him pay, don't just kill 'im an' be done with it."

"Youse just tryin' ta save 'im." Fox looked down his nose at me, where I huddled on the floor, and my heart sank. "...But youse gettin' at som'thin' there."

A spark of hope. Fox paced a couple steps in each direction.

"Ey, Fox?" Stone said. "What'm I doin' wit' 'im?"

"Just wait one flippin' minute." Fox waved a hand dismissively in his direction before coming to a stop in front of me. "A'right, Eva, youse has a point. Why kill da King o' Brooklyn when I can keep 'im instead? From now on Spot Conlon an' his goil ah da slaves o' da Queens newsies."

Wait, what? What exactly had I gotten us into?

"Take 'em ta da basement." Fox waved his hand again at Stone, who came back for me, letting go of Spot. Spot stood at the door, as if tensed to run, but Fox raised his eyebrows in a warning.

"Anythin' you do, Conlon, Ise'll take it out on her." He said coldly, and I saw some of the fight go out of Spot's posture. But that fight went straight into me. So I was the weak link, huh? I'll show him. Stone marched Spot and I down into the basement and over to the wall we had been tied to earlier. Slapping his pockets, Stone realized he only had a little bit of rope. He hesitated, debating, before tying Spot's ankles together and leaving him on the ground and shoving me down next to him. I hit the ground hard and winced a little.

"Yoah trainin'll begin tamarrah." Fox said from the top of the stairs, and as Stone left he slammed the door shut and I heard the sound of a key turning in the lock.

"Spot? You alright?" I said quietly as we sat in darkness.

"Yeah." He said tersely.

I nodded, then reached for my boot and the knife hidden therein. With a little tricky maneuvering, I succeeded in pulling it out and began working on my ropes. Eventually they fell away and I smiled. My hands were free. I rubbed my wrists before reaching out to feel for Spot.

"Hold still. I have a knife." I whispered, my hands running up and down Spot's back before I found his hands. I sawed at the ropes, careful not to cut Spot, and his hands separated. He took the knife from me and quickly sliced through the ropes on his feet.

Handing the knife back to me handle first, Spot finally broke the silence. "Why'd ya do dat Eva?"

"What? Save your life?" I said, stunned.

"Yeah. Now we's stuck heah bein' slaves ta Queens of all people."

"Well excuse me for not wanting you to die!" I retorted, turning my back on Spot's injured pride.

There was silence for a few more minutes, and I felt my lower lip tremble. No, I wasn't going to cry. No satisfaction for Fox. I breathed deeply through my nose. Then a pair of arms wrapped around me and Spot pulled me to him, my legs crossways over his lap. I hugged him back, burying my face in his shoulder.

"Ise sorry Eva." Spot whispered. "Ise sorry youse trapped heah."

"It ain't yoah fault." I said, hugging Spot tighter. We sat together for what seemed like ages. I could feel myself drifting off to sleep as Spot cushioned me in his arms.

"I'm glad I didn't kill you." I said sleepily, thinking back to the day I met Spot.

He laughed quietly, a hint of humor in the dark room. "Me too." Spot said, running a hand up and down my back. "Me too."