Of All the Things that I Don't Know (Spot Conlon + OC)

Chapter 15

"Please, just...take care of her."

Spot felt an irritated groan begin to build in his chest as Jack Kelly's voice pierced abruptly through his peaceful slumber like a loud, unwanted alarm. His eyes slowly opened to the semi-darkness around him, and he took a deep breath, forcefully willing the two-week old conversation to the back of his mind.

"What is it, Tom?"

Katherine Moore's sleepy murmur startled Spot, and he worriedly stared down at the dark-haired girl lying languidly atop his body, fearful that he had permanently disturbed one of her much needed moments of rest.

"Nothin', love," he mumbled into the top of her head, releasing the palpable tension in his body.

He felt Kate rustle slightly next to him, clearly still disrupted by his sudden waking, but Spot gently pulled her closer into his side, relishing in the satisfied sigh she released onto his chest. He liked the feel of her next to him, even in the small bed of Mary's sparsely furnished guest room. Her legs encased his own, her arms surrounding him, one under his back while the other draped over his chest, and her head nestled snugly in the crook of his shoulder. He felt a small smile come to his face, recognizing that she had slowly but surely taken siege of his body throughout the night without him noticing.

But, as her limbs further entwined with his and her breathing slowed again, Spot felt the delayed realization hit him that her barely conscious utterance had strangely included his name. The name that, if ever used by any of his boys in his presence, would ensure the soaking of a lifetime. The one label from his sordid past that only Mary could speak without incurring his unbridled wrath. A name that he had only heard Kate use once before.

But, when spoken from Kate's soft lips and in her sweet voice, his name seemed to separate itself from the twisted history that he had become so accustomed to associating with it. Her usage of it didn't jolt him the way it usually did when someone besides Mary dared to say it aloud. And as Spot let that revelation further sink in, a subtle, but familiar uneasiness grew in the pit of his stomach.

For this was not the first instance during Kate's stay that had seemingly forced him to move beyond his firmly set emotional boundaries. Her presence alone was enough to drive him to a very uncomfortable place within himself while also somehow creating a sense of much needed serenity. It was a confusing dichotomy of emotions, to say the least, but something he had experienced ten times over with her in the past. However, the all-consuming panic he had felt upon her initial stay in Brooklyn was an added layer that he had absolutely no familiarity with.

He saw so clearly now that distancing himself from her during that first month had been a terrible idea, but at the time, he had been wholly convinced that it was his only option. She had been so incredibly fragile at first, prompting such an unexpected instability in his own actions that space seemed to be the best answer. Not to mention that once news about Flit broke, his boys had been exceedingly clear about their less-than-pleased opinions on her living arrangements in Brooklyn. And this only further cemented the idea that the bigger the gap between he and Kate, the more ability he would have to protect her. But he had not fully appreciated the Brooklyn boys' distaste of Kate, not once considering the sullied image that her breakup with Jack Kelly had already laid the groundwork for. Thus, her erratic behavior had generated a far bigger fire than he could have ever expected, one that he was powerless to put out by himself. He knew her unpredictability and childish antics had been more of a cry for help than an actual testament to her insanity, but convincing his already embittered boys of this idea had proven to be a very difficult feat.

And the whispers about the damning word carved into her abdomen that had somehow circulated throughout the lodging house only added to this dislike. Spot still could kick himself for not seeing the obvious connection between Jack's past accusations and his boys' consequent disgust. It had never occurred to him that they had indeed believed Katherine Moore's allegedly loose reputation was what had finally led to Jack's disastrous fall from grace, weakening the Manhattan leader and his territory in one fell swoop. And he had never thought to assume that the Brooklyn boys would be fearful of her instigating a similar fate in their own terrain. Nevertheless, it had unfortunately taken a near mutiny against Spot for him to see all of these underlying impetuses with any kind of clarity.