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Spot Conlon pushed his way from the Queens lodging house with a huff. Already mid-morning, the day was slowly slipping away and they still had no lead on his girl. She left, and they had no way of getting her back.

"Spot, I think she must've gotten on a train or something. If she didn't go back to Queens, she had no wheres else to go," Jazz implored.

Jazz wanted nothing more than to keep Queenie safe, as he promised. If she wanted back into Brooklyn, she would go. Spot forcing her back would not have anything good come from it and he knew.

"Jazz, if you don't wanna be here, go. Ise can't have dead weight. You don't agree wit' me goin' to look for her, fine. Go back to Brooklyn."

A foreign coldness flooded Spot's voice, chilling Jazz to the bone. Slowly, he found himself nodding.

"Ise think Ise should go back-"

Spot waved him off without care. Good riddance, as his mother would have said.

"Spot, maybe she doesn't wanna be found."

Silver eyes snapped to Jazz's.

"Go," he breathed coolly.

Jazz obeyed, nearly sprinting away from his leader, well aware that he couldn't sit back and watch Spot wreck Queenie's life.

He would simply have to find her before Spot did.

West shoved a new sweater on Queenie's body as he spoke.

"What're the rules for when we leave dis place?"

Queenie shook.

"I'm going to hold your hands at all times."

Pacified, West nodded as his hands lingered on the buttons.

"Next?"

Gulping, she continued.

"I am going to listen and obey all of your orders."

Finishing with the sweater, West grabbed her face in his paws.

"That wasn't all I said."

Struggling to fight down the bile that rose in her throat, Queenie answered.

"I am going to listen and obey all of your orders immediately without question or debate. My opinion is not wanted or needed."

Her eyes glued themselves to the floor as she struggled against his grip.

"That's a good girl. Now, let's be off. Wese gotta a life to get back."

He pulled her along and barked orders to a newsie at the door.

"Youse! Youse go to Brooklyn and spread the word that Ise'm goin' to Manhattan."

The young newsie looked up at him in confusion.

"But, West, what good'll that do?"

Resisting the urge to slap the insolent kid, West's face filled with anger.

"Just do as I say!" He shouted.

Nodding, the young boy leapt up and sprinted from the lodging house, refusing to look back. Queenie wanted to shout, to scream and ask why everyone in the building ignored the woman captive in his arms, but she knew how little good it could do. West brightened up minimally.

"Are you ready?"

Without waiting for a response, he began to strut from the door, pulling her behind him.

"Good!" He shouted, a smile welded to his face.

Queenie forced herself to continue breathing at a normal pace and struggled to keep up with his fast footfall through the borough.

"West, wait-"

He shot her a warning look, and she tilted her head down.

"Sorry, West."

Nodding and smiling down at her, West stormed through the city, in search of his lost territory.

Spot carefully combed each city block of Queens, nearly begging people for any word of Queenie. Sure enough, no one had seen her or done business with her. He felt an odd disquiet in his heart and struggled to fight it down.

He would find her. Make no mistake, he swore he would get her back and get her back he would.

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