It was, Four Eyes thought for the twentieth time that day, a stupid idea. Ya t’ink too much, O’Malley.
That was indisputably true, at least. Four Eyes took a deep breath. He hadn’t, willingly and with so little reason (But there was a reason, he argued.), walked into Brooklyn in three years. His few excursions across the river while working for Luke he discounted out of hand. Those he’d rather not think about. Spot had called them ‘even’ – he closed his eyes and swallowed – but he was still nervous. He had nothing to say, no one to see, no answer to give if challenged . . .
Still pushin’ yer luck. He was good at that. He reached the river, still without being stopped. He’d make no attempt to hide his progress, so Conlon must be aware of his presence. Aware, and unconcerned. That was the hardest to reconcile. He shook his head.
"He sold ya out," Flip snapped.
"No, no, he didn’t," Ruby half defended, half begged him to defend himself. "He couldn’t have. You didn’t, you wouldn’t!"
As he’d told Bastian, there was nothing to explain.
"Why?" she whispered at last. He didn’t flinch; he didn’t react. That was, he would think later, the worst betrayal of all. "Did he threaten ya somehow? What power does he have over ya?"
"None," he replied honestly, to the floor. They couldn’t fault him for honesty. "None," he repeated, proving he could look her in the eye and admit it without flinching.
He could meet her eyes, but he couldn’t acknowledge what he saw there. That would be too much even for him. Ruby shook her head. "I don’t understand."
"Lemme explain it to ya," Bastian cut in savagely. Four Eyes transferred his gaze to his best friend – well, no, he couldn’t really claim that now, could he? "He sold us out," Bastian continued, eyes boring into him while Ruby looked between them, "‘cause he likes dis life. It’s comfortable. It’ s nicer dan livin’ at da lodgin’ house. He’d rather live heah wit dem dan wit his friends. An’ ‘dere’s money in it.’"
Having his own words thrown in his face nearly shook Four Eyes’ composure, but he held his gaze steady until Bastian turned away, dismissing him in disgust.
"But if Luke wins . . ." Ruby whispered. He didn’t look at her again. "Ya want Luke ta have Brooklyn? Ya would give over that much power ta someone like that?" Her voice dropped lower, pleading. "Ya’d give dat much power ta someone who would do this?" He didn’t turn his head, but out of the corner of his eye he could see the four partially healed circles burned into the arm she offered for his inspection.
And he didn’t reply.
"Save yer breath, Rubes." Bastian led her away. "‘E ain’t woith it." Four Eyes didn’t respond, nor did he try to stop the three as they left him. He began to sit down on the lower bunk, then moved to the wooden trunk that took up one corner. He wouldn’t stop them, but he couldn’t help thinking it was a harsh judgement. He made one choice, I made a diff’rent one. It didn’t make that much of a difference.
It had, of course. Four Eyes sighed and stared out over the water. Sometimes it was that simple. He’d tried to convince himself otherwise, but . . . I knew what I was doin’.
"So?" he asked aloud. He pulled off his glasses and watched the river swell just a bit. It was over. So? "Good question." What he needed was to talk to someone. He’d been avoiding it for months. It was only . . . Breathing a sigh, he put his glasses back on, stood up and walked back to the Bronx.
It couldn’t possibly be a secret now, she thought, walking quickly. If he was doing business with Nicky Andriola, he must have known it would get back to the newskids. There was no way he couldn’t have known his secret would get out. It was all right now, she could tell without endangering anyone.
She knocked on the Bronx Newsboys’ Lodging House and was greeted by a younger boy whose name she couldn’t quite recall. "Is Four Eyes home?" she asked softly, twisting her hands together to keep them from shaking. The boy shook his head and offered a shy smile.
"Not yet, but ‘e’ll be heah any minute," the boy – Roller, that was it – replied, opening the door wider for her. "Ya can come on in an’ wait if ya wants."
"Thank you," Ruby murmured and followed him up the stairs. There was a large group of boys in the bunkroom, and Ruby shot a slightly shaky smile at them as she entered. Souther greeted her, and she murmured a distracted reply. Any other time she would have made the rounds of the room, chatting and flirting with the assembled boys, but not tonight. Tonight it was all she could do to keep a calm expression on her face.
He arrived only a few moments later, and a huge rush of relief swept over her when she caught sight of him walking into the room. He smiled a little shyly when he saw her, and it was a smile to banish shadows. "Ruby, heya," he said. She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. An awful silence descended as she struggled to find the words she needed. The smile faded, and he frowned, searching her face. "What’s wrong?"
What’s wrong? He’s out. He’s out and I don’t know how I’m going to protect you!
She wrung her hands, about to speak, when she saw his gaze drop slightly and his eyes widen. D*mn! Her throat, the bruises from the night Luke – she gasped and grabbed the edges of her cloak, yanking it closed desperately, cursing herself. She’d never meant for him to see that! "Four Eyes-" she blurted out his name as understanding swept over his face and his knees buckled.
"I don’t wanna die," he mumbled, more to himself, almost in surprise. Ruby flew to his side, dropping down beside him.
"You are not gonna die!" she shot back fiercely. He won’t get ta you, I swear, he won’t!
He smiled at her a little shakily, again, a smile that pierced her straight to the heart. "It’s aw right," he said. "I jus – I didn’t care before. It mattahs now."
She swallowed hard, forcing back the threatening tears. "You hafta go somewhere, somewhere safe – somewhere where he can’t get ta you."
Four Eyes shook his head, stubbornly. "If anyone needs ta get away, it’s you," he replied.
Ruby swallowed hard, holding back tears. "I can’t," she whispered. "‘E said things – ‘e’ll hurt people if I run, ‘e said so." Four Eyes winced, but didn’t argue, of which she was glad.
"‘E don’t stay in jail," he mused, more to himself than to her. "Is Berto still workin’ fer Scythe? He couldn’t’a been pleased about da raid . . ."
Ruby shook her head again. What Berto was doing was unimportant to her. "Dere’s gotta be somewhere you can go," she rambled on, unable to relinquish the thought of a safe haven for him.
"I can’t," the Bronx boy replied. His cheeks flushed a dark red, as if her concern embarrassed him.
"You have to!" Ruby cried, clinging to her fragile control by a thin strand. Four Eyes shook his head, pressing his lips together stubbornly. "Four Eyes, listen to me," Ruby began urgently. "Ya know as well as I do that he won’t let what happened in Queens go wit’out a reckoning." Tears choked her, but she wouldn’t cry now – she wouldn’t! "Please-" desperation colored her voice. "I couldn’t bear it if somethin’ happened ta you."
Four Eyes frowned deeply, pulling off his glasses and staring at them fixedly. "Ya don’t go, I can’t," he said to the spectacles. Ruby sat back on her heels, digging her nails into her palms in an effort not to take him and shake some sense into him.
"Four Eyes, dammit, look at me!" she finally burst out when he continued to stare at his glasses. "‘E’ll kill you, ya know ‘e will. I can’t go because dis is my fault as it is, an’ I can’t run an’ leave ‘em. Ya hafta go!" He looked up then, and to her surprise, his expression was almost angry.
"It ain’t yer fault!"
"If it ain’t mine, then whose is it?" she shot back. "My friends are in danger because a’ me, Bastian is dead because a’ me! I will not add yer name ta that list!"
"It ain’t yer fault he – is what ‘e is!" he protested. "Ya’ve done everythin’ ya could ta stop ‘im-"
Fat lot a’ good it did us, too, Ruby thought bitterly, getting to her feet and beginning to pace. "But it’s fault that he’s here, now," she added miserably, wringing her hands.
"I jus’ said-" Four Eyes began, but paused, glancing around the room. Ruby followed his gaze and realized with a rush of mortification that they were the center of very interested attention.
Cheeks burning, she turned and quickly left the room for the deserted corridor. Leaning on the outside wall, she pressed shaking hands to her eyes and struggled to regain her equilibrium. Why can’t it just be over?
"What are we gonna do?" she whispered when Four Eyes finally followed her out into the hall, shoving his glasses back onto his nose. He shook his head, sighing.
"I don’t know," he admitted, and Ruby slumped more. Please, just let it be over.
Silence descended. Again.
"You are so bloody stubborn," she finally muttered at him, and Four Eyes sighed again, but didn’t reply.
I know. Four Eyes sighed. He would refuse her nothing else, but he could not abandon her. It would be tantamount to killing himself, but she didn’t know that, and he refused to burden her with the knowledge. Scythe, he tried to force his thoughts back to practical matters.
There might be an opening there . . . Don’t be stupid. If Wakeford was unhappy with Luke, he would hardly be anymore pleased with the one who had brought the police down on the warehouse. So where could Forlani be? If Queens was out and Brooklyn was off limits . . .
"‘E’s gone somewhere because ‘e said he’d ‘be back,’" Ruby seemed to be following his thoughts. "Maybe we’re all right fer now."
Neither one believed it.
Ruby sighed at last, and took his hand almost hesitantly. "At least promise me ya’ll be careful?"
"Promise." That he could give her, Four Eyes thought looking down at the hand in his own. It was not the one Luke had cut, but he imagined he could trace the scar along the palm all the same. How could she even bear to look at him, let alone touch him? He’d hurt her so many times already. But if she chose . . . He flushed.
Ruby gave up, baffled by a response that was neither welcome, nor rejection. He had no reason to be disappointed when she released his hand. No reason and no right. "Four Eyes," she began, paused, then continued softly, "everythin’s gonna be aw right." He blinked once, then again, rapidly, disciplining his thoughts.
Luke didn’t stay in jail, and Four Eyes doubted he could kill even in self-defense, let alone in cold blood. Not that he knew where to find Forlani anyway. That brought him back to the raid. Luke would need a place to stay before he turned his full attention to revenge. A place to stay and money to spend.
He laughed under his breath. Ruby tilted her head, amazed to hear him laugh, even if it wasn’t a particularly mirthful sound. "Somethin’ funny, love?"
Four Eyes shook his head, called back to the present. "Jus’ me."
"Yeah, yer a real hoot," she teased gently. He couldn’t reply. "‘Dere’s money in it.’" That was a thing Luke always had.
"An’ I nevah . . ." He closed his eyes tightly and sighed. It wasn’t the time. There were more important things to think about . . . "Ain’t nothin’ ta explain."
"Ya nevah what?" Four Eyes shook his head and laughed again, shortly and sharply without an ounce of amusement. "What?"
"I-" Quietly, because it sounded so, so silly spoken aloud, so trivial compared to the rest of their worries, he continued, "I nevah told ‘im I was sorry." Crimson, he rushed on before she could answer. "Ain’t dat I nevah had a chance-" Bastian had given him plenty of chances. "-I jus’ – nevah did."
"Oh, sugar," Ruby sighed. Reaching out, she took his hand again, squeezing his cold fingers. "He knew. I know he knew."
He knew, she’d said. Four Eyes hoped so, but there was still that nagging doubt . . . He removed his glasses for a moment and rubbed an arm across his face. Stupid. Here he was, after dark, in a cemetery, in Queens - and he’d promised to be careful. "I’m sorry." He could say that from the Bronx and do as much good. Four Eyes sighed. Had he ever not felt like an idiot? He wasn’t exactly religious, but he could hope for some kind of answer, couldn’t he?
"Mighty big shame, dat," a voice sympathized. "Good fella, he was."
He hadn’t even smelled the smoke. Four Eyes turned, cursing inwardly. He should have at least smelled the smoke.
"‘Cept fer dat whole traitor thing," Luke continued thoughtfully. He tossed his cigarette butt onto the grave. Four Eyes watched it fall with a twinge.
Well, he’d asked for an answer.
Luke smirked. "So, how are things back in da Bronx?" he asked conversationally.
Yer dead, he informed himself. "‘Bout da usual."
"Da usual, huh?" Luke nodded, eyes narrowing. "Ain’t dat nice."
"I ain’t twenty-one yet," Four Eyes reflected, forcing calm on his terror. Something made sense, at least. He discarded the idea of running, since it would only cut his brief life expectancy shorter.
Forlani ignored the comment. "Ya know, O’Malley, dere’s somethin’ dat’s been buggin’ me fer awhile. Maybe ya can help me wit it." Several possibilities, none of them pleasant, crossed Four Eyes’ mind. "Ya think?" Luke radiated menace.
"I can try." Four Eyes wondered why he was trying so hard not to tense; he no longer had anything to hide.
Luke nodded. "Good." He shifted slightly. "See, now, I’ve been wrackin’ me brains fer weeks now, an’ I jus’ can’t seem ta figure out how Conlon an’ ‘is boys found our liddle home." He feigned puzzlement. "Any ideas?"
Cat and mouse. He hadn’t expected that question, but he should have. There was even a certain kind of symmetry to it. "Ya jus’ find dis out?"
"Hard ta say," he replied, musingly. It would get him killed, but anything he said would do the same. "I know dey didn’t believe me."
"Didn’t dey?" Luke tilted his head back, reminding Four Eyes, once again, of Spot in a similar situation. Was this his answer? "I think we gots ourselves a liddle problem heah, O’Malley," he murmured, eyes slitted. Taking a tight hold on Four Eyes’ collar, he added, almost gently, "Don’t ya think so?"
Calm. "I was beginnin’ ta get s’prised," he quipped, trying to appear not to notice the stranglehold. "I nevah t’ought I’d live ta twenty-one." He couldn’t keep a slightly manic edge from his voice.
"I dunno, O’Malley, it ain’t lookin’ too good from heah," Luke said softly.
"Naw, it don’t," he agreed, thoughtfully. The least he could do was not sound four years old and wetting his pants for fear.
Luke smirked. "Ya know what’s kinda sad?" he mourned. "I likes ya, O’ Malley. Don’t really wanna kill ya." He flashed a smile that made Four Eyes hope the dead couldn’t have nightmares. Ya can’t give up! Ya promised! Dammit, ya’s s’posed ta be ovah dis. "But ya know," Luke shook his head regretfully, "I ain’t got much of a choice." Coise not, Four Eyes laughed to himself. Bad business. "See, da whole rat thing, I can get ovah dat. But hankerin’ afta me goil . . . well, dat’s unfergiveable." He clucked his tongue disapprovingly.
Four Eyes flinched. "I will not add yer name ta dat list!" He’d promised her. And she wouldn’t even blame him for breaking his word; she’d blame herself.
"So tell me, Four Eyes," Luke drawled mockingly, "Gimme a reason why ya shouldn’t be joinin’ yer friend dere." Forlani indicated the grave behind him.
That shook him beyond recovery. What reason? The light at the end of the tunnel was only the glow of Luke’s cigarette. He heard the whisk of a switchblade being opened. "No reason? Can’t think a’ none? Ya shoa?"
Ain’t shoa I wanna.
He’d said it aloud. "Well, den, guess I’m doin’ ya a favor, huh?" Luke considered the blade. "Ya think?"
"Maybe." I’m sorry. He tried not to think about the grave behind him. It was - appropriate. And he’d asked.
"Hey, you, boys! What’re ya doin’?"
He barely saw Forlani move. He felt the fire in his side and the wet snow when Luke shoved him away and his legs gave. He heard the hissed, "Considah dis a warnin’, O’Malley," and the pounding of feet as the churchyard custodian came to investigate. And he managed to conceal himself behind a monument in time to avoid being found, but all he could see was a dark alley where, strangely enough, he’d never been.
He’d been stabbed just under his arm – no danger unless he stayed here in the snow, but enough to produce a warm, wet stain on his shirt and a pain he preferred not to think about. Ya idiot! He leaned his head back against the stone and pressed an arm to his side. I’m sorry. The custodian gave up his search. Idiot! Go home.
He made it more than halfway. No one bothered him as he staggered through first Queens, then Manhattan, but then he pitied anyone who thought he looked prosperous enough to rob. He laughed aloud, well-aware that he was pain-drunk.
"Four Eyes," a voice stated. It translated to a supporting shoulder a moment later. He suspected he would recognize the speaker under better light and circumstances, but he couldn’t place him at the moment.
"I’m aw right," he murmured, but his body betrayed him with a stumble. The man only adjusted his grip. His silence seemed to comment on the blood-soaked shirt under his arm. "It ain’t bad," he protested, but allowed himself to be steered through . . . where was he now . . .
Harlem. Oh, God! He recognized the well-lit building as they approached. Anywhere else . . .
His benefactor maneuvered the door open. "Could we get some help here, please?" he asked calmly.
"Aw shit!" Four Eyes winced as Mess pounded down the stairs towards them. "Four Eyes – Christ!"
Wordlessly, he allowed Mess to take his other side and glanced at the boy on his right. He still couldn’t remember a name . . .
"What? What happened? Oh, no, oh, no . . ."
Ruby. He took advantage of the light to study the spreading stain on his shirt. Anything not to face her. "I’m aw right," he whispered. Whoever had laundry duty was going to kill him, he thought in amusement. Luke would hate having his job finished for him. He stumbled at the number of sobering thoughts that produced, and the Harlem newsies – more of them than had been in the hall a minute earlier – guided him into the parlor and onto the seatee.
"Get Mrs. E’s medical bag!" Ruby yelled. Someone went running out of the room, and she addressed him directly for the first time. "Sugar, what happened? What did he do to you?" Her voice shook.
"I’m aw right," he mumbled, fixing his eyes on the carpet.
"It’s not life threatening," assured – Pistol, that was it; his name was Pistol – coolly.
She gathered up the bottom of her skirt, pushed his torn shirt out of the way and pressed it to his side. He winced slightly, shivered and concentrated on something other than the concerned faces surrounding him. Mess was doing his best to arrange the pillows to make him comfortable. Four Eyes wished he could hide under one of them. Anthony straightened up. "Rubes, can ya get some towels ‘er somethin’?"
"Towels are in the linen closet," Ruby replied without moving. Her voice indicated an intention to stay at his side come h*ll or high water. Four Eyes flushed miserably. Not a word of reproach . . .
Pistol left the room temporarily.
"Did ‘e do dis ta ya, Four Eyes?" Mess asked after a short silence.
He mumbled assent. Who else?
Mess’ shoes criss-crossed the parlor several times. Pistol returned, and towels replaced the skirt. Four Eyes did his best not to interfere with Ruby’s ministrations and ignore the pain, and wished desperately that the custodian hadn’t interrupted. On top of all her other worries . . . Idiot! You bein’ dead wouldn’t make ‘er feel any bettah. It would make him feel better. Selfish! The room buzzed around him as he sank further into the whirlpool of despair.
And he’d almost begun to hope . . . I was right in da foist place. I told ‘er . . . Vindication made him more miserable.
"Could someone please get me some bandages an’ some whiskey, please?" Miles away, Ruby’s voice strained against tears.
"Here." One of the girls stumbled into the parlor, nearly in tears and shoved a brown bag into Ruby’s lap. "I couldn’t find it . . ." she blubbered quietly. The others tried to comfort her.
"It’ll be okay, Breathy. Four Eyes is going to be fine."
All he was was trouble . . .
"Whiskey," Mess returned briefly with a bottle.
Something like a grateful whimper escaped Ruby. The roughness of the towels was replaced with a shock of air and then the sting of liquid in the wound. Against his will, Four Eyes flinched.
Ruby stopped instantly. "Are ya-"
"I’m fine," he whispered, avoiding her face.
She held out the bottle. "Here, drink some a’ dis. It’ll help wit da pain."
Whiskey on top of exhaustion and loss of blood . . . but he complied, swallowing the golden liquid; protesting would take too many words. He was forced to raise his arms as Ruby began wrapping bandages around him. "Ya don’t need stitches, anyway," she said, unsuccessfully trying to keep her voice steady.
Rather than reply, he took another swallow of the whiskey. He would regret it in the morning, but . . . Add anudda’ one!
Finishing with the bandages, she said quietly, "Ya oughta see a doctor tomorrow."
He shrugged.
"Is dat da only place . . . ?" She didn’t finish.
Four Eyes nodded, then conceded a word, "Yeah." She turned away to pack away the unused bandages. That whiskey was looking more and more attractive . . . "I’m sorry," he whispered, unable to help himself.
A roll of bandages dropped to the floor and rolled across the carpet. Ruby burst into sobs. He turned towards her for the first time all evening. "Ruby . . ." There was nothing to say!
"You coulda been killed!" she sobbed.
Bastard! "I wasn’t." Never mind by how narrow a margin. Never mind that he wished he had been.
Ruby didn’t reply. Four Eyes had long ago learned it was always possible to feel worse. He realized there was an inherent incongruency in feeling guilty for an attempt on one’s life, but then, he wouldn’t be the one grieving.
"Yer gonna hafta stay heah tonight," Ruby ordered him between tears. "Yer in no condition ta walk back ta da Bronx." Four Eyes didn’t argue. He wasn’t sure he could walk across the room at the moment. She stood up, gaining control of herself with a heroic effort. "I’ll get you some blankets."
He opened his mouth, then shut it and watched her go. Idiot, he swore miserably, holding his head in his hands.
"I gotta get ta woik," Mess said. "I’ll stop by an’ tell Splints on me way."
A trip to the Bronx would send Mess far out of his way, and Four Eyes doubted Splints would even be at the lodging house to receive the news, but he didn’t protest. What point was there in protesting? "Brilliant timin’," he muttered to himself. Flint missing, by all accounts a prisoner somewhere in the city, Sunrise and Storm’s wedding plans stalled for the duration of the emergency, Dare miserable over her boyfriend Snipes – the two were thirteen for goodness’ sake! – and he’d managed to get himself stabbed right in the middle of everything. Stabbed and drunk. He could feel the whiskey going to his head already. Unable to think of anything else to do, he helped it along with another gulp. Idiot!
"I got the blankets." He looked up at Ruby’s return, but avoided her face. Dammit!
"T’anks." Beat. "I’m sorry," he burst out.
The sobs she had been holding in broke loose again.
Would it ever end? What would she do if something happened to him? Clenching her fists against the pain, she tried to get a hold on her emotions. "Try an’ get some sleep," she said when she could speak through the tears. "I’ll be heah if ya need anything," she added, and retreated to an armchair on the opposite side of the room. Curling her knees up to her chest, she buried her face in her skirts and sobbed as quietly as she could. As her tears petered off, she stole a glance at the seatee. Four Eyes was still, breathing evenly, and appeared to be asleep. Swallowing hard, she rested her head in her hands and closed her own eyes.
Would it ever be over?
Much later, a muffled sound broke the silence. Ruby frowned, looking towards the seatee. Was he crying or was he . . . laughing? She couldn’t tell. He was shaking and making small, heart-wrenching noises either way. Slipping off the chair, she padded across the floor and knelt beside the couch, peering at him worriedly. She wanted to reassure him, to at least tell him she was here, but she was afraid to speak for fear she’d start to cry again.
"I’m lucky as h*ll," he muttered, eyes closed. Ruby bit her lip and reached for his hand, only to let hers drop without touching him. Asking him if he was all right would be absolutely useless. He wasn’t crying, he was laughing, and somehow, that seemed a million times worse.
"Doesn’t seem funny to me, love," she commented softly. His eyes opened, but he wasn’t looking at her. What happened to you tonight?
"I should be dead . . . how many times now?"
Ruby swallowed hard. "There’s obviously a reason you’re alive, then," she ventured hesitantly. It should have sounded comforting. It didn’t.
The awful, heart-wrenching laughter died away. "Yeah." A moment of silence, then, "Idiot," he whispered to himself.
"Yer not an idiot. This is not yer fault!" she protested. He wasn’t listening.
"Couldn’t give him one, neiddah," he said beginning to shake.
Ruby pondered that for a moment, not wanting to push him, then asked gently, "Couldn’t give him one what?" There was no need to ask who he was referring to.
Four Eyes didn’t reply for a long moment. "Reason not ta kill me," he finally whispered. "Idiot!" he repeated. Ruby swallowed hard, choking back tears.
"You have lots a’ reasons ta live," she cried fiercely, catching hold of his hands and hanging on to them tightly. "Don’t make me sit here an’ listen them off to ya!" He clutched her fingers almost desperately in reply. Ruby swallowed back sobs and began to list. "Ya gots great friends, like Doze an ’ Souther an’ Splints who care about ya," she began. "An’ yer so smart, ya can do anythin’ ya want an’ be anythin’ ya wanna be . . ."
"Don’t," he begged, shaking his head.
Ruby plowed on. "It’s true, ya may not think so, but it is!" An’ even if it ’s a reason ya don’t want right now, ya gots me too.
"It’s true," he whispered brokenly, "Dat’s da problem!" Ruby bit back more tears. There was nothing she could say. "I’m sorry," he whispered, and Ruby wondered if anything could hurt more than seeing him so desolate.
"Please don’t," she managed to say. She didn’t think she could stand to hear him apologize again.
"I promised ta be careful," he agonized.
"It’s not yer fault he found ya," she protested, trying to keep the tears out of her voice. Again, he wasn’t listening.
"I wanted an answer," he said softly to himself and began shaking again.
Ruby swallowed back more tears and squeezed his fingers. It seemed pointless to ask him anymore questions; neither of them had any answers.
"Maybe you oughta get some sleep," she suggested, letting go of one of his hands and smoothing his hair off his forehead. "Ya need ta rest."
"He didn’t, ya know," he was mumbling on, oblivious.
"Who didn’t what?" she wanted to know. So much for no more questions.
"Dat day . . . idiot!"
"Sugar, you’re not makin’ any sense," Ruby murmured worriedly, letting go of one of his hands a pressing trembling fingers to his brow to check for fever. His forehead was cool, but she couldn’t seem to take her hand away, and kept smoothing his hair back, letting her fingers linger on his skin.
"He asked if I knew anythin’," Four Eyes went on. Ruby nodded wordlessly, unable to stop touching him. "I said I didn’t, but-" He broke off, chest heaving.
"But what?" she prompted after a long silence. She wasn’t trying to pry or push, but it seemed like there was something he needed to get off his chest.
"An’ den ‘e was dead," Four Eyes whispered. Her hand stilled on his forehead, and Ruby had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing aloud.
"Oh, Hon," was all she could force past the lump in her throat. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for what he’s done to you. She wished vehemently that Luke was there in front of her so she could take that switchblade of his and bury it right in his black heart. "It wasn’t your fault," she finally said, but nothing could have been worse. The sobs tore out of him painfully. "Four Eyes please don’t," Ruby whispered desperately, her own tears spilling over. She couldn’t bear this, she just couldn’t.
"I’m sorry," he sobbed, "I’m sorry . . . I – I’m me."
Oh, no.
"Don’t," Ruby protested. "Jus’ don’t. How can ya be sorry yer you?" He was barely aware of her except as a listening ear and a gentle hand. How could she . . . ?
"I’m sorry," he cried again, shaking. "I’m sorry."
"I’ll tell ya somethin’," Ruby murmured. She kissed his forehead softly. "I’m not sorry yer you."
He clasped her hand more tightly. That was the worst of his crimes, that he could allow her to pardon them. "I’m sorry." But he couldn’t let go. "I love you."
"Bastard!" he whispered into the sudden, breathless silence, and buried his face in the cushions of the seatee. How dared he? "I’m sorry . . ."
Oh. Oh. She didn’t know how to react to that. She’d never really expected, she’d barely even hoped . . . The tears that flooded her eyes now were of something more poignant than pain. Leaning down, she touched her lips to his forehead again. "I love you too," she whispered back.
It was too late, when he awoke the next morning, to get to the distribution office for the morning papers. Dat’s da last a’ yer worries, O’ Malley, Four Eyes laughed to the parlor ceiling. He lowered his eyes to Ruby, still crouched beside the seatee and realized with a jolt that she was already awake. Her head rested against the arm of the seatee, and she was watching him. He averted his eyes quickly. I love you, too. The hangover he’d known would come took over with a vengeance, and he almost welcomed it. Ya are a bastard!
He closed his eyes, but even through the pounding in his skull, he could see her beside him, red hair slightly tangled, dress wrinkled and torn, faint circles beneath her eyes – absolutely radiant. I love you, too.
She did! She loved him! Just to hear the words – he didn’t know whether to rejoice or cry. Ya desoive so much betta. She deserved a king – certainly something better than a broken-spirited, heart-worn coward. She deserved the world – but he couldn’t quite bring himself to tell her so. I love you.
As if she’d heard – maybe she had, certainly he wasn’t thinking clearly enough to keep a reign on his tongue – Ruby squeezed his hand (had she been holding it all night?), kissed his forehead and stood. A few minutes later he could hear her moving about in what he assumed was the kitchen.
He’d had some hope of eluding Doze when he returned home, but it died as soon as he stepped in the door. "Ya should be sellin’," he muttered half-heartedly to his friend.
Doze pushed away from the counter. "I don’t spend me time gettin’ soaked," he replied, without heat. "I gots enough money." He looked pointedly at Four Eyes’ torn shirt. It still bore a faint pink stain as well as the aforementioned tear, but he’d had nothing else to wear home.
"Ruby took care a’ it," he mumbled.
Doze sighed, frowning, but Four Eyes sensed the anger was not directed at him. "Ya had a visitor earlier."
He flinched visibly, even as he realized Doze could not be referring to Luke. Four Eyes had no doubt that if Forlani wanted him, he’d find him without bothering to leave messages at the lodging house. Doze caught both the reaction and the meaning behind it and cursed. "Dove asked how ya’s doin’," he continued, glancing away. "Told ‘im ya was still in Harlem." He looked him up and down. "Ya eaten?" Without waiting for a reply, he added quickly. "Brendan’s in da kitchen. Ya ain’t gonna stop ‘im fussin’ anyways, so it don’t matter. Ya got anudda shoit? I gots one."
"I can fix dis one," Four Eyes replied, pretending not to notice Doze’s anxiety. He smiled half-heartedly. "Prob’ly wouldn’t fit me, anyways."
He saw Splints only briefly in the next few days. Once the Bronx leader had ascertained he was all right, Dunromin was gone again, combing the city for Flint.
"If ‘e don’t find ‘er . . ." Souther fretted, and swore, face flushing like a school boy until his freckles disappeared. "He came back from tawkin’ ta Connor . . ." He scowled. Four Eyes understood; he’d seen the fury in Splints eyes when he learned the circumstances of Flint’s abduction, but there was another dimension to Souther’s anger. "She won’t even let me be ‘er friend," the younger boy said quietly.
Corks, overhearing, muttered something about ‘Fingers’ and ‘friends,’ and Four Eyes frowned at him. "She’s upset," he offered, then added with a slight smile. "An’ prob’ly feelin’ guilty fer passin’ up you."
Souther flushed bright red. "Doubt it," he replied with an embarrassed grin. Quietly enough that no one else heard, he murmured, "I ain’t gone nowheah."
Four Eyes envied him his conscience.
"Wheah’s Charlie?" Both boys turned to see Lazy, head, one arm and one leg already through the bunkroom window.
"What happened?" Souther stood and crossed to help her in.
"Runnin’ aroun’ da city . . ." Lazy muttered to herself, acknowledging neither question, nor help and climbing the rest of the way on her own. "Oughta put ‘im on a leash . . ." Hands on her hips, she finally turned to Souther. "When ‘e finds ‘is way back heah, tell ‘im-"
"Lazy?" Splints walked in the door in the midst of his best friend’s mutterings.
Lazy stopped mid-rant. "She’s back," she said, then renewed her complaints as Splints did an abrupt U-turn and bolted for the door and Featherbed Avenue.
The Harlem River was a black strip of nothing in the darkness. Moonlight rippled across the peaceful water, almost dazzling when she looked at it directly. Stupid, she thought, kicking a pebble as she walked, head down, arms wrapped around herself. Yer askin’ for it. He’ll show up any minute now. Well, good. She hoped he did; she had a few choice words to say to the bastard if he did.
"He was wonderful to me, Ruby."
Bastard. Preying on innocent Ash like that. She was bewitched by him, that much was obvious. Ruby could see it in her eyes when she talked about him. She remembered that feeling of fascination, knew it well, the undeniable tug of attraction, but that had been before he’d murdered Bastian, before he’d put a knife into Four Eyes, before, before, before . . .
How could anybody be so stupid? Handsome is as handsome does. Just because he looked good didn’t mean there was any good inside him! Ruby wasn’t sure who she wanted to throttle more, Ash for stupidity or Luke for seducing innocents.
She looked up, focusing on her surroundings for the first time. She was almost to the lodging house, she’d walked faster than she thought. Askin’ for it. He must know, she mused, looking around into the darkness, the quiet streets. He’d be nearby; he’d know.
"Come out, ya bastard," she muttered, straining to see into the shadows. "I know yer there." No answer from the night, the silence seemed to mock her. Too easy, Maggie May, too easy.
The street was still deserted as she stepped up to the lodging house door. Ruby raised her hand to knock, but hesitated. It was so late, nearly midnight, no lights shone from any of the house windows, everyone had retired. Who was she to disturb them, to disturb him? He didn’t need to have her add to his burden. Never mind, she thought, lowering her hand. Her shoulders slumped as she turned away.
"Ruby, what are ya doin’ out heah so late?"
The voice startled her, and she spun around, heart pounding, but the tall dark silhouette coming toward her was only Splints, making his way home. Ruby sighed, pressing her hand to her chest to slow her racing heartbeat.
"Splints, ya scared me!" she laughed, but the sound was shaky, and Splints looked grim as he stepped up to her.
"Sorry," he frowned, then. "It’s awful late fer social calls."
"I know, I jus’ realized that," she admitted sheepishly.
"What’s wrong?" the Bronx leader wanted to know.
Ruby shook her head. "Nothin’, everything’s fine. I jus’ . . ." her voice trailed off and she shrugged. Splints regarded her for a moment, then shook his head.
"Jus’ a minute," he said and started for the fire escape. "Wait right heah, don’t move," he ordered over his shoulder, and Ruby blushed crimson as he headed up to the bunkroom window.
Four Eyes was far from asleep when a hand touched his shoulder. His chest tightened with apprehension, but he opened his eyes slowly and just managed to keep from going limp with relief on recognizing Splints. He would have sworn he hadn’t betrayed his brief fear, but the Bronx leader apologized immediately.
"‘S nothin’," he muttered, sitting up.
"Ruby’s outside," Splints said, ignoring him.
Outside? With Luke . . . ? was his first thought. Ruby? was his second. He hadn’t seen her since the night she bandaged up his side, since the night he’d proven once again what a jerk he could be.
Ruby was sitting at the bottom of the fire escape, but he couldn’t even manage a ‘hello,’ so he sat down himself and stared at his hands.
"I know it’s late," she mumbled. "I shouldn’t be heah." She shouldn’t be, but not because of him. After a miserable moment, she added, "I’m sorry fer bodderin’ you," and began to stand.
"Ya ain’t bodderin’ me!" Four Eyes sighed. Unable to help imagining Luke in the shadows, he sighed again. He hadn’t stopped to put on his glasses, so he studied his fingers instead.
"I’m sorry anyway." She rubbed her eyes. "Ya knew Ash was missin’ right? Fer about a day an’ a half?"
"Yeah." It seemed to be going around. He should have gone – to do what?
"She was wit him."
"What?" He looked up, startled out of self-consciousness, then reflected that he shouldn’t be. It was one of Luke’s favored methods of torture. He moved closer, started to put an arm around her, and thought better of it.
"She thinks he’s wonderful," Ruby went on bitterly. "She was stayin’ wit ‘im – she went wit ‘im willingly."
Four Eyes couldn’t think of a reply. He would be the last to doubt Luke’s powers of persuasion, but when one knew . . . You knew, pointed out a voice. Dere’s a diff’rence, he replied with an inward sigh.
Ruby shook her head. "She – she was mad at me when I tried ta tell ‘er about ‘im, an’ everythin’ . . ."
"Ruby-" He sighed. This was just the problem. He couldn’t say anything; he couldn’t do anything – he couldn’t help.
"How can he do this? Ta ‘er? Why can’t he jus’ deal wit me?" It was a cry straight from the heart. Ruby struggled not to give in to the impending tears. "An’ Ash – she jus’ don’t understand . . ." He was wonderful to me . . . "She knows what ‘e’s done, an’ she jus’ doesn’t get it!" She rubbed her arm distractedly, trying not to think of the cruelty Luke was capable of. "I jus’ don’t know what ta do," she whispered in conclusion, quieter now, anger draining into misery as she dropped her head into her hands. Would it ever end?
"I’m sorry," Four Eyes murmured quietly. Ruby sighed in frustration and lifted her head.
"Ya always say that. Ain’t none of it has anythin’ ta do wit you," she replied, equally quiet.
"Well, I ain’t glad about it!" he shot back, sounding as frustrated as she felt.
Ruby put her hands to her eyes. "I know, but it ain’t yer fault," she felt compelled to repeat. Would he ever believe that? she wondered vaguely.
"Enough a’ it is," he muttered, as if in answer to her mental question. "I don’t know what ta say," he added, but Ruby had already latched onto his earlier comment as her frustration and pain hit a breaking point.
"Do ya really think that?" she wanted to know. "Do ya really think Bastian died ‘cause a’ you? Do ya really think there was more ya coulda done?" she demanded and saw him flinch under the unexpected attack. Four Eyes didn’t reply, and part of her wondered what he was thinking. "He didn’t, an’ there wasn’t," she finished miserably.
The boy beside her swallowed hard. "It wouldn’t’a been da same," he murmured, very quietly.
Wouldn’t it?
"Ya know what Luke said ta me one night at the warehouse?" Ruby finally blurted out, and Four Eyes looked at her questioningly. She’d never thought she’d tell anyone this; she’d barely acknowledged it to herself; it hurt too much to even think about, but he had to know. He had to realize it wasn’t his fault. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to keep herself under control enough to get the words out. "He asked me what it was like ta have men die fer me," she whispered, not looking at him. "He wouldn’t’a killed Bastian that night if ‘e hadn’t – " If he hadn’t’a been wit me – but she couldn’t finish the sentence.
"You killed ‘im more surely than I did. What do ya think a’ that?"
"It wasn’t yer fault, it was mine," she finished, and the tears overflowed as she pushed herself to her feet. It was all too cruel.
"An’ ya believed him?" Four Eyes demanded, standing as well. Ruby turned back to face him, chest heaving with pent-up emotion. Don’t you understand? she wanted to scream at him, I killed ‘im! He’s dead because a’ me! She opened her mouth to speak, but Four Eyes was going on, hurriedly, as if he had to say what he was going to say before he lost his nerve. "Yer da only reason I ain’t dead right now. I don’t know what it is-" he stopped abruptly.
Ruby wiped at her tears, waiting for him to continue.
"You-" he swallowed helplessly.
What do you see in me? he thought. An’ when are ya gonna realize it ain’t dere? It wasn’t just a matter of not deserving her. If he were even certain he had the ability to try. If not fer you . . .
There was so much.
I’d’a said no an’ let ‘im kill me – or saved ‘im da trouble. I wouldn’t’ a even tried.
Anythin’ – everythin’ – I don’t jus’ owe ya me life. You are –
"If you didn’t care what happened ta me, I wouldn’t." He wet his lips, fighting equally hard to speak the words and to hold them back. Ya got no right ta say it. Ya’ll – ya’ll do somethin’ – somehow, sometime, when it matters . . . "I ain’t got nothin’ ta give you," he said desperately, more as a reminder to himself than to her.
"I don’t want anythin’ from you except for you ta be happy!" Ruby cried in protest.
He shook his head, pressed to the wall. "I ain’t shoa I’se capable a ’ love-" he choked. "But lovin’ you’s da only thing I t’ink I am capable of anymore." He turned away, closing his eyes against the street, cursing himself.
Ruby was shocked right out of her tears. After a moment, very quietly, she replied, "I love you too. You know that."
He did. He pitied them both and he wouldn’t trade the fact for the world. He knew. "I don’t wanna hoit ya," his whispered his last protest.
She took his hand. "I know you won’t."
Almost a month would pass before he proved her wrong.
There was something extremely relaxing about shuffling a deck of cards. Four Eyes stretched out his legs and listened to the whisper of the cards and the clatter of wagons.
"And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I’d lay me down an’ die . . ."
He opened his eyes as Corks and Smithy entered the bunkroom, singing enthusiastically. "Heya," he greeted, amused.
"Hey, Four Eyes."
The door of the washroom opened and Doze emerged, straightening his collar. "What da heck is makin’ dat racket? Put da poor thing outta its misery!" he exclaimed, grinning. "Oh, heya guys."
"Shaddup!" Smithy rolled his eyes.
Corks noted the older boy’s freshly washed face. "Goin’ visitin’?" he teased with his fractured Irish lilt. "Give our regards ta Goldie."
Doze swatted at him. "Ya gots a filthy mind, Corks."
"Me?" The elder twin widened his eyes innocently. "All I said was-"
"Yeah, shaddup!"
"An’ here was I about tae offer my grand talents tae serenade da lady for ye!"
"I want ‘er ta speak ta me again – not run away!" Doze protested. Smithy snickered, drawing a glare from his brother. "Comin’, Four Eyes?"
He looked up in surprise. "Ta Staten Island?"
Doze shook his head. "Charity Hospital. It’s in Harlem."
Four Eyes shrugged. "I can come."
"C’mon," Doze urged. "Ya need ta get out. An’ ya need ta see a doctah’," he added pointedly.
Four Eyes nodded and allowed himself to be dragged out of the lodging house. He suspected his friend had other reason for wanting his company than those two. Doze had known Goldie was expecting when they began seeing each other, but now that the child was born . . .
"I don’t know nothin’ about babies," Doze confided on the heels of the thought. They swung themselves aboard a trolley.
He smiled slightly. "Ya know enough ta hold ‘em right side up an’ not drop ‘em, an’ ya care enough ta worry. Ya can figger out da rest."
Doze smiled back at him ruefully. "I guess."
Four Eyes straightened as a running figure caught his eye. "Dat-"
"Souther," Doze confirmed. He hooked an arm around a pole and leaned out over the street, offering a hand. The redhead caught up and grabbed it, pulling himself up with Doze’s help.
"T’anks."
It was odd. Four Eyes laughed slightly, watching the street roll away beneath them. He hadn’t done something so ordinary in months. It was a relief.
Why hadn’t she remembered how much she hated hospitals?
It was hard to see her friends injured, hurting, but at least they were alive. It was certainly more than she could say for some. They hadn’t even brought Bastian to a hospital that night - how could she have? He’d died in her arms, his life bleeding out of him onto the dirty cobblestones of an alley in Queens . . .
Ruby, stop it, she regaled herself and turned a smile on Diamond, who returned it, despite his obvious pain.
"Thanks fer stoppin’ by," he said, and Ruby nodded, leaning down to drop a sisterly kiss on her friend’s pale, bruised cheek.
"Any time, love, you feel better soon, aw right?" she replied, straightening. Diamond nodded.
"Aw right," he smiled a little tightly, and Ruby turned to go, passing the freckled redhead who was just coming in the door.
"Hey Souther," she greeted the Bronx boy with a smile. Souther nodded at her vaguely, but his attention was plainly elsewhere. Shaking her head slightly, she left the boys’ ward and headed back towards the lobby, where Mess had been waiting.
She stepped out into the hospital’s main waiting room – and felt a rush of surprised pleasure. Standing near the nurse’s station, looking distinctly uncomfortable, was Four Eyes. He must have come with Souther, she reflected happily. She wondered if her face lit up as brightly as her heart did.
"Hey," she smiled as she approached him, and watched him flush a dark red and look away, studying the worn wooden floor beneath his feet.
"Hey," he mumbled.
"How are ya?" She found herself addressing the floor as well.
He shrugged. "Aw right."
"Good," she smiled. "How’s . . . ?" she couldn’t quite say the words, so instead gestured vaguely at his side. His flush deepened.
"It’s aw right," he repeated.
"Ya might want a doctor to take a look at it," she suggested quietly, sneaking a glance up at him before dropping her gaze again. "Just to be safe."
Four Eyes sighed. "Yeah, dat’s what Doze’s been tellin’ me," he replied.
"He’s right, you know," Ruby pointed out as gently as possible. The boy beside her shrugged uncomfortably.
"Dey’s busy enough," he muttered, nodding at the nearby nurse’s desk. A young nun chose that moment to look up and smile gently at them.
"Can I help you with something?" she asked, and Ruby glanced from Four Eyes to the nurse.
"He has a . . . cut he needs to get looked at," she volunteered hesitantly, hoping Four Eyes wouldn’t be angry with her for pushing the issue.
"It ain’t bad," he mumbled, reluctantly letting the nurse hustle him over to a treatment area. Ruby followed and stepped close to him, taking his hand comfortingly as the woman briskly went about cleaning and dressing the wound.
The nurse's ministrations stung, but, he reflected, it hardly felt as bad as actually getting stabbed. There were worse things. Ruby squeezed his hand, almost as if she could hear the thought.
"All right," the nun said, sorting bandages, both used and unused into appropriate receptacles. "Keep it clean, come back if it hurst more or looks bad and . . ." she paused. "Be careful."
'Be careful.' Four Eyes winced. "Yeah."
The sister pursed her lips and appealed to Ruby. "Make sure he does, please?"
Ruby blushed, and Four Eyes, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, felt his own face heat in response. "I'll try."
The nun nodded and returned to her desk, leaving the two studying the floor in mutual discomfort. Neither could find anything to say to the other.
"Evenin', ma'am," drawled an all-too-familiar voice. "I'd like to see a Miss Ryrie, please."
His eyes shot up. Paper-white, he watched the nun directing Luke Forlani to the girls' ward. It didn't even occur to him to wonder what Luke could want with the South of Houston Street leader. At his side, Ruby froze, unable to even look in the direction of the front desk.
"Much obliged to ya." He turned and apparently saw them for the first time. The black eyes narrowed. Four Eyes squeezed Ruby's hand protectively - never mind awkwardness or the fact that there was nothing he could actually do against Luke. This was a hospital - it was a church hospital - with a mocking wave for Four Eyes and a blown kiss for Ruby, Luke turned and strolled in the direction of the girls' ward.
When he'd left, the spell broke. "What is he doing heah?!" Ruby whispered, clinging to his hand for dear life.
He held to her equally tightly. "I don't know." Well, that sounded feeble, but he'd managed to keep his voice from shaking. That must count for something.
"Dat son of a - who does 'e think 'e is?" She managed, anger building with Luke out of sight. He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. "'E can't jus-" She took a deep breath. "I'll be right back."
Back? "What're ya doin'?" he demanded as Ruby slipped out of his embrace.
"It's aw right." She was heading after Luke; he followed, trying to stop her.
"What's goin' on?" demanded another voice behind them. Four Eyes turned to see Fingers on both their heels.
Ruby stopped. "Guys, please, ain't nothin' gonna happen heah." She indicated the bustling hospital. "It's aw right. Really."
"What's goin' on?" Fingers repeated, not one to be put off.
Bravado fading quickly, Ruby looked at her friend. "Um . . ."
He said it. Someone had to. "Luke."
"Wheah?!" Losing interest in them, Fingers took off down the hall without waiting for an answer. He didn't bother to tell her she was headed for the wrong ward. For all the differences between them, he had no more wish to see Fingers on the wrong side of Luke than anyone else.
Ruby remained standing in the middle of the hallway, eyes showing how close she was to breaking down. He moved to hold her, then stopped uncertainly.
She finished the movement for him, burying her face in his shoulder. "Why won't 'e jus' leave us alone?"
If only by holding her tightly enough, he could make the world's dangers disappear! "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't even start," she replied with a half-hysterical giggle. He bowed his head and stroked her hair, letting eternity passed. For a moment, it almost seemed -
"You had yer warning."
Four Eyes paled, looking up in time to see Luke's back continuing down the hall. The threat struck home. He dropped his arms, even as Ruby released him and took a step after Forlani.
He forced himself to follow.
"This has gotta stop - oh, no, Mess, don't - he'll-"
Mess was standing in the middle of the lobby, glaring challenge at Luke. Forlani lounged in the doorway in arrogant amusement. "Whadda ya want, Anthony?"
"It's yer night, Buddy," Mess growled.
Four Eyes stepped in front of Ruby, seeing the immediate future far too clearly. "Mess . . ." He was terrified. D*mmit, he lived in terror, what difference did it make?
"An' it ain't even me boithday!" Luke replied mockingly. "Golly gee, it's my night!"
Mess rushed him, throwing a punch that would have left anyone else with their ears ringing at best - certainly still standing and emitting a mocking sigh. "I really wish ya hadn't done that." Luke opened his switchblade.
Burying all images of St. Mark's Cemetery, Four Eyes jumped to intercept it. Mess shoved him to the ground. "Nope."
Seconds later, Luke had pinned the Harlem boy to the wall, knife to his throat. "I really don't feel like killin' ya tonight, Anthony."
"Luke, please . . ." Ruby begged as she helped him up. Four Eyes tried to draw her away and found himself going in circles as she tried to do the same to him. Where was the nurse now?
Mess shoved Forlani back with surprising force. "Stay da 'ell away from Ash."
He fought for a girl not even present, in far less danger, who he could not possibly - Four Eyes looked at Ruby. "Luke . . ." He was worthless.
Forlani smirked, unfased, pocketing his knife. "I think ya might wanna ask Ash if she wants ta stay away from me." With a wink at Ruby, he added, "ya think?"
Four Eyes strained forward, but it wasn't only Ruby holding him back. He watched as Mess fought what should have been his fight.
"Let go a' me!" He was distracted by a quite loud voice from the doorway. Fingers and Blind Diamond appeared locked in a slightly more violent version of his own struggle with Ruby.
She was crying now as the fight grew - he should be doing something, d*mmit! What?!
Ruby waded into the fight, trying to break it up. He did his best to hold her back, finally realizing he was crying himself. Bastard!
Fingers joined him and together they drew Ruby back across the room. "Let go a' me! Both a' ya, please!" Her voice echoed. Four Eyes looked up, suddenly conscious of the fact that the fight had stopped. Mess was bent over in pain, trying with superhuman effort to regain his feet. Diamond, though he hadn't moved from the doorway, also appeared injured - when had that happened? And Luke -
Luke arched an eyebrow at him. "Shall we finish what we started?"
Why not? Almost mesmerized, he took a step forward. "NO!" Ruby and Fingers were pulling him back even before Mess yelled to stop him. He couldn't break Forlani's gaze.
Luke laughed and broke it for him. "Coward." With a feral smile at Ruby, he called, "See ya round, Maggie May."
He was gone. Four Eyes looked around and found himself almost the only one still standing. Coward. Luke's parting shot echoed in his mind. As from miles away, he saw Ruby cling to him and lifted a stranger's arms to hold her. Where did she find the strength she drew from him? he wondered. He felt as empty and fragile as a leaf in November, rolling down the street, driven by the wind.
He hugged her more tightly, longing to sob out his despair on her shoulder. He wouldn't. He was still sane. He could still manage. He was good at that.
"Are you aw right?" Ruby whispered exhaustedly.
What could he say? Physically - "Yeah." The room flowed around him. The nurse had returned. Fingers - and Diamond - they both seemed to have gone somewhere. But it wasn't that important. What had happened to Doze and Souther? They must be somewhere near still - but that didn't matter, either. Matta'? A' coise it matters! Dey're yer friends. But it didn't. He didn't have the strength to make it matter. Bastard.
Ruby read the emotions, if not the thoughts, but what could she do? She crossed the room, squeezing his hand until she had to release it. "Mess? Are you okay?"
Mess replied with a bruised and bloodied version of his famous smile. "I'm okay." He nodded back at Four Eyes. "'E needs ya, Rubes."
Thanks a lot, Mess, she thought as the tears overflowed again. "I know."
Four Eyes sat down. It was something he could still do. Soon after, Ruby joined him, watching him.
"I'm aw right," he answered the unspoken question, wryly.
"Good," she replied with a watery half-smile.
He heaved a deep sigh. He ought to say something - he just couldn't think what to say.
"I'm sorry."
He turned to her, pained. "What've you evah done ta be sorry for?"
Ruby shook her head and looked away.
He sighed.
So did she.
Finally, to no one in particular, he murmured. "None a' us should really be goin' anywheah tanight."
"Couldn't if I wanted to." Diamond grimaced.
Ruby nodded in agreement. "Floor looks comfy," she offered with a crooked smile.
Fingers snorted, but even that was muted - almost mild. "Ain't no rats."
Distractedly, Ruby replied. "Dat's good. Rats're bad."
"Brilliant, Gallagher."
Ruby snorted, then began to smirk, then actually giggle as tension found an outlet. "Yeah, well, ain't nobody evah said I was da smartest cookie in da pantry." She pushed her hair back and tucked her feet up beneath her. Hesitantly, she rested her head on Four Eyes' shoulder. He lifted an arm and wrapped it around her.
"Do ya mind?" she whispered.
After a moment's difficulty, he replied, hushed, "Nevah."
Coward. Four Eyes looked down at Ruby, resting on his shoulder. Coward. He clenched a fist. Forlani could have pulled out his switchblade, reinserted it in Four Eyes' side and twisted and might have achieved the same effect. No doubt, Luke knew that perfectly well - "An' ya lissened ta him?" he'd asked Ruby - but it didn't make it any less true. Coward. He should have been the one following Luke, not trailing after Ruby and crying on her shoulder. He sighed. Lord knew, he was living on borrowed time anyway. Ruby shifted slightly. He shook with the effort it too not to tighten his hold. How could she not hate him? And how could he allow . . . ? "I love you." It was less a whisper than a thought. With the edge of his hand, he brushed the teardrops out of her hair.
"Two pair." Bastian tossed down his cards with a grimace. Ruby craned her neck to look at them from her seat above him on the lower bunk. Bastian was sitting on the floor, long legs sprawled out in front of him. It was Saturday night, and Ruby was getting a crash course in poker.
"Is that good?" she asked Four Eyes, who was sitting on the trunk across the room, watching both of them with a kind of tolerant amusement.
"It's aw right," he replied, holding out his cards. "Dis is good," he grinned, showing off a hand that boasted four kings.
"Oh." Ruby frowned at her own cards, then laughed and threw them down. "I ain't never gonna be any good at this!"
"Takes practice," Bastian put in encouragingly as Ruby sighed and flopped back down on the bunk, dangling her legs over the edge.
"I have been practicin'. I ain't never gonna get no better!" she wailed good-naturedly.
"Forget da poker," Bastian grinned, taking the cards from her and handing them back to Four Eyes. The bespectacled boy shuffled them absently as he watched his best friend and the little redhead. "You promised ya'd teach me how ta dance," Bastian reminded her, and Ruby laughed.
"Ya's got two left feet!" she replied tartly as she got up. "C'mon, then," she said, holding out her hands to him. Bastian winked at Four Eyes as he went to join her. "Not like we got any room heah," Ruby remarked as she positioned his right hand on her waist and took his left in hers.
Four Eyes laughed as the two moved somewhat awkwardly around the tiny room. Ruby was right, Bastian did indeed have two left feet, two big left feet, no less, and was a perfectly miserable dancer. The poor girl's toes would probably be black and blue the next day.
"Yer pathetic," he chuckled at his friend when Ruby finally gave up laughingly pushing Bastian away from her.
"He's right. You are pathetic!" she teased Bastian, who was pouting good-naturedly.
"Ya think you can do bettah?" he asked Four Eyes, who laughed and shook his head.
"No!"
"Can't do any worse," Ruby grinned, and motioned for him to join her. "Here, show 'im how it's done."
Although not much better than Bastian, he still managed not to step on her toes. All three were laughing when they finished, and Ruby turned back to the blond boy. "See, it ain't so hard," she replied and held her hands out to him again. Bastian took them and stepped to embrace her, but a deceptively cheerful voice stopped him cold.
"Havin' fun?"
All three turned towards the door where Luke was leaning on the frame, an expression of casual curiosity affected on his perfect features. "Luke, hey, love," Ruby smiled, stepping away from Bastian calmly - it never even occurred to her that she'd committed some kind of heinous crime. "Come join us. We're havin' dancin' lessons," she explained cheerfully.
Luke flicked a glance at the two boys before turning back to his girlfriend. Only someone who knew him well would see the rage sparking in those black eyes. Ruby would wish she'd learned sooner to recognize the signs.
"Nah, thanks," he drawled. "I knows how ta dance. C'mon, Maggie," he held a hand out to her, and Ruby took it without hesitation. Fool!
"See y'all later," she smiled over her shoulder at Bastian and Four Eyes.
Ruby blinked, coming back to earth, the memory of that night fading. It had started off so innocent, so fun, then turned into a nightmare. Rubbing her arm, she tried to block out the memories: the pain, the sound of her own shrieking and, worst of all, Luke's laughter.
If only she'd known, if only she'd figured out what a monster he was sooner, so much could have been avoided, so much could have been saved. Bastian. If she'd gotten out sooner, if she'd stopped it -
"I wanna ask ya somethin', Maggie."
She couldn't look at him. Keeping her head down, she huddled, hugging her arms close to her sides, trying to block out the sound of his voice.
"What's it like ta have men die fer you?"
Her head snapped up at that, her mouth opening in stricken horror. Luke smiled cruelly at her. "He wouldn't'a died that night if it hadn't'a been fer you," he told her quietly, smoothing a strand out of her eyes. "You killed 'im more surely than I did. What do ya think a' that?"
"Bastard," she quaked out. "You woulda killed 'im anyway, for bein' Spot's spy."
"Ya think?" Luke asked still stroking her hair. "I dunno about that."
Ruby jerked away from his caress. She had no tears left inside her to cry for Bastian; she'd cried them all in dreadful weeks after his death. This pain was worse than tears anyway, a deep, crushing guilt that went on forever.
"Shall we finish what we started?"
The words rang in her ears as she curled against him, her head resting on his shoulder in the quiet hospital waiting room. Would it ever be over? Would Luke ever leave them alone? Selfish, she chided herself. If she were smart, she'd get up and walk away from him, eliminate the danger to him right then and there. As long as she was with him, as long as she loved him so desperately much, Luke would want him dead. She knew Luke, knew him better than anyone; if he'd wanted Four Eyes dead for betraying him, the Bronx boy would have been six feet under that night in the cemetery, no doubt. But Luke let him live. Now, she was putting him in mortal danger just by staying here with him, by letting him hold her. Dammit, Ruby, get up and walk away, save him like you couldn't save Bastian!
There was the crux of it, she thought, listening to Four Eyes breathe in the pre-dawn quiet. Bastian died 'cause a' you. And you didn't even love him, not like this.
I can't, she thought miserably. I can't walk away. I just can't.
Unable to sleep, she stayed still and feigned it until the shadows deepened along the windows and a warm glow spread across the floor. Morning, and the hospital was slowly waking up. Shifting her weight, she tilted her head back to look at Four Eyes. He looked down at her at the same moment, and their gazes locked.
I love you.
The shuttered expression on his face didn't invite the sentiment on the tip of her tongue, so she broke the look first, uncurling her legs and getting slowly to her feet. Her cramped muscles protested as she stretched out he kinks. The horror of the night wasn't fading in the morning light, but at least it was over for now.
"Ya know, I can think a' better ways to wake up together," Ruby remarked in an attempt at levity, ignoring the scandalized look a nearby nurse turned on her. The tips of Four Eyes' ears turned pink, and she could have kicked herself. Definitely the wrong thing to say. Why didn't she think . . . ?
Shoving her tangled hair out of her eyes, she regarded him silently as he stood too, looking around as if he couldn't wait to be away.
Fingers had slept on the waiting room floor, but had been awake for awhile already, having gone to check briefly on Diamond. She approached them from the boys' ward, her face set in its customary scowl. "Ready ta go, Gallagher?" she demanded, and Ruby nodded.
"Yeah," she murmured, still looking at Four Eyes. He was avoiding her gaze again, she hated it when he did that. "Be careful, all right?" she asked him quietly. He nodded vaguely, but still wouldn't look at her. "I'll see you later?" she prompted, unable to walk away from him when he looked so desolate. He nodded again, still without speaking. Stepping close to him, she leaned up and brushed her lips to his cheek. "I love you," she whispered in his ear, then turned to follow Fingers out into the morning sunshine.
"You was lookin' real cozy wit' O'Malley last night, Maggie May."
She froze in the process of handing a paper to a businessman. Luckily, the man took the paper and pressed a penny into her palm without noticing her immobility. As soon as he was gone, she pivoted slowly around.
Luke was lounging against the low stone wall that surrounded the Northern tip of Central Park. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was regarding her with eyes like chips of obsidian. Although he had been the victor in the fight with Mess, he was still sporting livid scrapes and bruises of his own.
"So?" Ruby managed to shoot back, covering her fear. It was mid-afternoon, there were scores of people around; she was more than safe enough. Taking comfort in that fact, she lifted her chin and glared at him. "What's it to ya?"
Luke narrowed those eyes at her. "What's it to me?" he repeated, pushing off the wall and taking a step towards her. Instinctively, Ruby backed away. "You belong to me, and I don't like ya messin' wit' other fellas."
"I don't belong to anyone, least of all you, and I'll mess with whomever I please!" Ruby snapped unwisely.
"I'd think about that if I was you," Luke replied quietly. "O'Malley was lucky that night in the graveyard. He may not be lucky next time."
Ruby felt the color drain from her face. Four Eyes. "You leave him alone," she hissed, with enough vehemence that Luke tilted his head back slightly and looked at her in near surprise.
"He don't deserve ya," he commented, almost in amusement.
"An' you do, I suppose!" she snapped, shifting her grip on her stack of newspapers. Luke grinned.
"More than he does. We're two of a kind, Maggie May."
"Go away, Luke," she ordered coldly, turning deliberately away from him. "It's over." Pulling a paper off the top of her pile, she waved it over her head. "Extra! Extra! Scandal in city hall!"
Grabbing her roughly by the shoulder, Luke spun her to face him. "Don't turn yer back on me," he warned very softly. Ruby swallowed hard, frightened by the rage blazing in his eyes.
"Why can't ya jus' leave me alone?" she demanded. "Haven't ya done enough?"
"He's dead, Maggie, the next time ya see 'im, it'll be in a casket," Luke threatened in a low, dangerous voice. Ruby went white.
No.
"If you lay so much as a fingernail on him, I swear-"
"You swear what, Maggie?" Luke mocked, plainly enjoying his reclamation of control. "Whatcha gonna do?"
Good question. What was she going to do?
"I'll leave." She said it with complete conviction, lifting her chin and looking him straight in the eye. She realized that she meant it too; if something happened to Four Eyes, it wouldn't matter what else happened. It would be over. She'd go, and never come back. Simple as that.
"Where would ya go?" Luke mocked.
"I don't know, somewhere far away. An' you would never find me."
"Ya wouldn't have the guts to leave yer girls ta me," he sneered. Ruby ignored the threat.
"What would you do then, Luke?" She turned the tables on him. "What would you do without me to torment? What would you do for fun? Where would you get your kicks? Going afta the girls wouldn't be the same without me around to gloat to about it, now would it?"
Those black, black eyes were nearly sparking with fury. "Don't mock me, Maggie," he warned. "You know what I can do."
"Yeah, I do," she agreed. "An' it ain't gonna happen again. Kill me if ya got to, but stop threatening the people I love."
Something ugly twisted in Luke's face, and Ruby's bravado faded. I've pushed him too far, she thought sickly. He's going to kill someone just to prove a point.
"You're begging to be taught a lesson, darlin'," Luke drawled dangerously.
"Fine, teach me a lesson, ya bastard," Ruby shot back, foolishly. I've lost my mind, she thought, half hysterically, he's right, I'm just asking him to do something horrible.
Luke smiled slowly, and Ruby's heart sank. Oh, God, what have I done?
“. . . she looked so sweet from her two bare feet to the crown of her nut brown hair . . .” Corks sang at the top of his lungs. “Such a winsome elf that I p-” The line ended in a sputter when someone tossed a glassful of water in his face. “Well, I like that!” Corks choked. “Ye’ve no taste fer good music, any o’ ye!” he informed the laughing newsies that filled the Four Kitchen’s Restaurant. In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, the restaurant’s owners had thrown open their doors to the South of Houston Street newsies and any of their friends who cared to join them. The twins had been regaling an unappreciative audience with their favorite songs from the Emerald Isle.
Four Eyes wasn’t even sure what he was doing here. He wasn’t made for parties. Large gatherings of fellow newsies had been things to avoid since he left Brooklyn. Granted he didn’t know half of the people there. He didn’t know a quarter of the people there. To be perfectly honest, he’d become something of a hermit in the last three years. He knew the Bronx boys, of course. And he thought he knew the girls – most of them at least – but that was about it.
Ruby shifted a bit and smiled slightly at him. All right, he did know why he was here, not that they’d managed much more than ‘hello’ in the hour they’d been standing here together.
“Since none o’ ye appreciate me fine talents, I’ll jus’ take meself away, then,” Corks sniffed with exaggerated pride. The laughter rose. Corks did leave, but he managed to take the arm of a pretty Irish girl for the walk home.
“How’re things in the Bronx?” Ruby finally asked.
Four Eyes shrugged. “All right.” So he wasn’t helping the conversation along. The main topic on both their minds was one neither would bring up, and it sat between them, unmentioned and forbidding.
In search of something to talk about, he glanced up as a figure paused in front of him – and was severely shaken. He hadn’t seen Lash in three years. Had he been a part of the raid? Probably – he was a devoted champion of Spot Conlon’s Brooklyn – as exemplified by the scathing glare on his face now. Ruby straightened, eyes darting between the two of them. Four Eyes swallowed. Why now, of all times?
“Lash!” called Coins from across the room. The Brooklyn boy turned away. Four Eyes released a sigh, avoiding Ruby’s eyes.
“I should be gettin’ home.”
Somehow, that was the very last thing he’d expected. A knife out of the next alley was a very real possibility. He was prepared for anything out of Luke’s infinite store of horrors, but he’d all but forgotten the commonplace resentment of his old friends. Lash’s hostility was worse for catching him off-guard. He’d unwittingly stopped expecting it. Well, afta’ a point . . .
Four Eyes was well aware he should not be walking through midnight New York so recklessly, particularly after the incident at the hospital – “Ya had yer warning.” – but as long as Coins and Lash were within sight he wasn’t going to hurry after them just to receive more abuse. He sighed and tried to think about the dirty streets, rather than . . . than just about anything, come to think of it.
Hell’s outcasts. He actually quite liked the sound of that. Poetic, he wasn’t. Cerebral, hardly, but he appreciated a good turn of phrase as much as the next person. Certainly beat El Diablo, as far as he was concerned.
Hell’s outcasts. It was true, anyway. He should have been dead that night in September when Maggie put a knife in him. There was no reasonable explanation for his survival; even the doctor had been flabbergasted. Luke figured it was for two reasons. One, Satan didn’t want him. Two, there was too much hate left in him to die quite yet. Scores had to be settled, debts called in, and betrayals avenged.
Maggie. It was all about Maggie. It had always been about Maggie.
He didn’t know anything about love. In truth, he doubted its existence, at least in his own capacity to feel it. He would never delude himself into thinking he could love her, but he was at a loss to describe, even to himself, the connection that linked him to her. Certainly, it made more sense to let it all go and leave her alone, but he couldn’t, nor did he want to. It was maddening, but it was also immensely amusing to see how far he could push her, to see what her limits were. She looked so fluffy and fragile, like the doll their grandmother had given Elena for her sixth birthday, the doll whose porcelain head Berto had cracked open two days later, but unlike the doll, Maggie was proving much harder to break.
Besides, there was that little issue of betrayal still to discuss. She had to pay for that. She’d caused his downfall; he’d happily cause hers.
Back to the matter at hand. Sticking to the shadows as was his great talent, he followed the tall, thin boy as he headed across the bridge. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the boy make for home. What was it that attracted Maggie to him? Tall, skinny, with glasses, a crooked nose and a perpetually distracted look, he was far from her usual type, boys who were generally as flamboyant and outgoing as she herself. Sebastian Deveer had been of that ilk, loud and fun-loving right to the end. Luke would never feel guilt for killing the Brooklyn boy; he’d deserved it for having the gall to touch his girl. This one, this rat who’d also betrayed him, warranted much worse. For that reason, he’d let him live that night in the cemetery, to see how far it would go. If O’Malley had left it there, if he’d left Maggie alone, he could have counted on a nice, long life, but now, well . . .
Luke smiled slightly as O’Malley stepped off the bridge and headed for the Bronx lodging house.
“Well, yer late,” Doze tsked mischievously when he climbed up the stairs. “Enjoy yaself?”
He smiled wryly. “I ain’t cut out fer parties.” Four Eyes sat down on his bunk and pulled off his shoes, then removed his glasses and placed them on the bedside table.
“We was worried,” Splints murmured, voice weary.
Four Eyes sighed, closing his eyes briefly. “Don’t be,” he replied lightly. “I don’t t’ink I’se considered important enough ta kill.”
Stay tuned! More to come!
