- Chapter 26 - "To Win the Strike, Spot. "-
Warnings: Mentions of betrayal, slight fighting and anger, and slight sadness as well
Third Person POV
Race stares at Davey, his eyes wide. "You're delirious, Davey!" He exclaims, taken aback. "He just betrayed us all!" He reminds him.
Davey stares into his blue eyes. "Just trust me!" He tells him. "Please!" He almost pleads.
Race shakes his head, looking panicked. "Look, I get that he's your crush and all, but he's been my brother for years and even I don't trust this." He tells Davey, shaking his head.
Davey grabs his wrist, staring into his eyes and soul. "Race, shut up and just trust us." He tells him, a sort of pleading still in his voice. "Katherine and I trust him and if we can trust him, you know you can too." He says.
Race's tough exterior falters slightly. "Davey-" he starts.
Davey looked desperate. "At least do this for Kath and I." He almost pleads, his voice soft. "Please, Race. We need to do this to win, don't do it for Jack." He tells him. "Do it for the rest of us." He whispers.
Race bites his lip, before sighing. "Fine." He mutters, looking back up at Davey. "What do you need me to do?" He asks, his arms crossed.
Davey smiles sheepishly at Race. "Go tell Brooklyn?" He answers quietly.
Race's eyes widen. "What?!" He exclaims.
"Please!"
"I'm not doing that! They'll hate me! They literally hate Jack right now!"
"I know, but you can change that!" Davey tells him. "You're the closest to them!" He reminds him. "If I go in there, I'm dead." He points from himself towards the Brooklyn boarder.
Race stares at him. "And if I go there and do this, I'm dead." He tells him, looking annoyed.
"But that's not fully true!" Davey responds.
Why was I sent to deal with the most stubborn one?
"No." Race puts his foot down, literally.
Davey had to stop himself from facepalming. Not the time, DJ. He pulls out his puppy eyes. "Please, Race." He almost begs him. "You're our only hope for Brooklyn." He tells him.
Race looks up into Davey's eyes, his eyes widening. "You can use puppy eyes?!" He exclaims.
Davey sighs deeply. "Yes, but I hate using them." He informs Race. "Don't make me, because I will." He states, crossing his arms.
"Alright, alright!" Race throws his hands up in defeat, glaring at the eldest Jacobs' brother. "I hate you and if I come out of this dead, I want people to wear blue at my funeral." He tells him sternly.
Davey nods, pushing Race towards the boarder. "Okay, okay, now go." He tells him. "Drama Queen."
"Aww, thank you!" Race shoots Davey a sarcastic smile. "At least you know I'm a Queen!" He exclaims, before running off.
Davey blinks as he watches him run off. What just happened...?
Race grumbles to himself as he runs up to the four Brooklyn guards.
They looked confused when they saw him.
Race cut them off before they could speak. "Before you ask, yes, I'm here for a reason, and I really need to see Spot right now." He tells them, sounding rushed.
They share looks, before letting Race through.
Race runs down the Brooklyn dock, already regretting his decision and he hadn't even spoken to Spot yet.
If I die, it's Davey's fault.
If I die, I'm haunting Davey.
And Albert. That would be fun. I can tease him and Finch until they pass aw-
"Race?" Spot was confused as he looked down at the blonde boy from his perch. "Why are you here?" He asks, leaning over the rail.
Race takes deep breathes, before speaking. "Don't kill me please-" he starts. "but jack's back and we have a plan to win and I was sent here to be the sacrificial goat and get Brooklyn to join-" he informs him quickly. "Okay, bye!" Race turns to start running.
Spot only caught a few words, but he had caught enough to have a slight clue as to what was going on.
Spot makes a split-second decision and jumps down from his perch, landing right in front of Race.
Race stares at him, his eyes wide.
"Firstly," Spot starts slowly, staring into Race's eyes. "It's sacrificial lamb." He informs him.
Race rolls his eyes. "Sacrificial lamb, goat, same thing." He responds, slightly annoyed.
Spot's glare only got stronger. "Jack's back?" He asks, his voice too quiet for it being Spot Conlon. "And you trust him?" He questions, slightly bitter.
Race's face contorts slightly in disgust and annoyance. "No." He answers, shaking his head.
Spot was slightly confused now. "Then, what are you doing?" He asks.
"Winning the strike, Spot." Race answers.
Still slightly confused, Spot fell silent. He looks to Race to continue.
Race sighs softly, rubbing the temples of his forehead. "As much as I hate Jack for betraying the strike and it crushed me, he's still my brother." He tells Spot. "Part of me wants to believe that he loves me and had a reason," he bites his lip. "And most of me is doing this so I can win, get my rights back, free Crutchie, help street-kids, and so much more." Race says. "Jack's not the only one involved in the strike, Spot." He tells him.
Spot stares at Race, processing his words.
Race looks into his eyes one last time. "The least you can do is come and try to help, Spot." He tells him quietly, before turning on the heel of his foot and starting his run back down the dock.
Spot watches him, his mind racing.
The other boys around them watched as well, some of their eyes wide and their minds just as perplexed as Spot's.
Race smiles to himself as he leaves the Brooklyn mainland. I successfully did that without getting killed.
He silently congratulates himself.
He knew that if he had been anyone else, Spot wouldn't have listened fully and he wouldn't have been so open to them talking and such.
Now, Race exhales slowly. I just hope Spot comes through.
He starts running back to Manhattan.
1060 Words
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