Chapter 12
The evening had dragged on, each hour worse than the last, and by the time it ended, she was exhausted as she ever was, but she hurried back to the apartment as fast as she could, and while the others got ready to crash for the morning, she started stuffing things into her bag. Whisp questioned her, several times, but she kept saying that it was unimportant, to just get some sleep. She didn't want to admit to the girl that she was running away, leaving her behind, leaving behind any responsibility she had to any of them. She was being so selfish, and she had such a hard time facing that.
Once her bags were packed, she napped for a bit, an uneasy sleep filled with half-dreams, nightmares. Something was going to go horribly wrong, she was sure of it, but as she was always sure of that, she wasn't even sure she could believe it.
Some time before noon, she slipped out of her small bed, snagging her bag, and slipping out without waking anyone. The walk to the courtyard took her a bit, weaving through crowded streets, scared Race wouldn't even be there when she got there. But he was, looking just as nervous, a bag slung on his shoulder, hat in his hands, bending and unbending the brim of it. When he saw her, he broke into a broad grin, moving to meet her halfway across the courtyard.
"I wasn't sure you'd come..." His voice trailed off, glancing down, away from her, but he reached for her hand, catching it, and squeezing lightly. "I have enough money left from what I won the other day for tickets to Boston. Won't be comfortable, but it'll get us there. My uncle Leo runs a flower shop on Hanover St, I'm sure he'll give us jobs."
"A flower shop?" She moved a bit closer to him, her voice hopeful. "You mean a real job, in a shop?"
"Yeah, real jobs, and when we've saved up enough, we could get a place of our own, you know? An apartment, just you and me? Might have to tell my family I married you so they won't have a fit, but if you don't mind that, it'd be great." He grinned, and he looked as hopeful as she sounded. As she grinned back, she started to think it might be alright, maybe everything would work out.
"I'd love that." And she would, and maybe she'd fall in love with him, actually in love with him. She wanted that, she wanted him to save her.
"Ain't this sweet." Jack's voice drifted over them out of the blue, and she had to fight off panic. How had he known they'd be there? How had he figured that out? She couldn't even manage to turn around to look at him, already shrinking into herself, eyes firmly closed.
"Just walk away, Jack." Race nearly growled, pulling her closer, protectively. She instinctively shifted closer still, refusing to even look at Jack.
"I don't think so. Sorry to break it to you, Race, but you're not taking my most popular girl anywhere unless you're paying for her." She didn't have to look at him to know Jack was sneering, to visualize his lip curling. His drawl was lazy, confident, as though he knew she wasn't going to be able to go anywhere. "And besides, I need to have a word with her. She hasn't given me her damn money yet today. That's stealing."
She finally managed to speak, snapping a bit. "Not if I earned it myself, no help from you, Cowboy."
"I didn't want to do this." Jack sighed, and she heard a strange click, finally pulling away from Race to look at him, her eyes flying wide when she saw the pistol in his hand. She had never seen the thing before, had no idea where he'd gotten it, but it was pointed at Race, and the look on Jack's face made it clear he would use it. "Back away from the girl, Race. I don't want to shoot you."
"What the hell, Cowboy? You're not going to shoot me. And you're not going to shoot her." Race pulled her closer, and then quickly tucked her behind him when Jack leveled the gun at his head. "Back off, Kelly."
Jack shook his head, smirking more broadly. "I want her money, and then she needs to get her ass onto the corner, unless you're going to waste your cigar money on her, because if I found out she's giving it away for free, she's in a hell of a lot of trouble."
It was as though that was the last straw. Race launched himself at Jack once again, fists flying into his former friend's face, knocking him to the ground. They struggled, rolling, quickly becoming a blur of jostling, until a loud crack echoed into the courtyard, a flash glowing, a thin strain of smoke rising.
Everything fell silent after the sudden noise, and people started to appear in windows and doorframes, gathering around. She had to fight off panic, frozen in place, and all sense of hope died. Jack had shot Race, everything was over, she really was trapped. This was her life, and there was no way out of it.
In the distance she heard a whistle, a copper's whistle, and her eyes closed, jaw quivering, feeling so helpless, so useless. She finally forced herself to move, falling to her knees next to the slightly tangle pile of boys, half expecting that at any moment, Jack would push Race off of himself, roughly grab her arm, and drag her off, before the police arrived to arrest him.
But it didn't happen. Instead, it was Race that moved, managing to get out from under a deadweight Jack, struggling to breathe. She helped him, struggling to shove Jack off of him, and once he was, Race scrambled to his feet.
"We gotta run, Gold." He caught her hand, looking terrified, and took off, pulling her with him, bee-lining for the train yards.
She didn't think, just ran with him, barely able to process it. Jack was gone. Gone. Dead. Never going to bother, bully, or hurt her again. She was free.
She was free. She'd been saved.