Chapter 7 – Backfire

Cheshire lit a pair of cigarettes, and he and Jakub sat in the open rear of the truck, smoking them down as they watched the river.

“You’re sure about this?” Jakub asked, not for the first time, constantly scanning the moonlit waters.

“Of course I’m sure,” Cheshire replied easily. He’d finally learned not to take Jakub’s doubt personally. “My guy on the inside hasn’t been wrong yet. Lucky score number three, this’ll be.”

“They’ll catch wise if he keeps it up. You should tell him to be careful.”

Cheshire smirked at the thought. “He’s very discreet, believe me. I’ll introduce you soon—I know you’re just dying to meet him.”

Jakub didn’t reply. He was still watching the water, cautious and maybe even tired. Cheshire did his best not to stare as he tried to think of something to fill the lengthening silence. They were sitting close together enough that their sleeves rubbed whenever Cheshire took a drag, and for the first time, the proximity made him anxious. Why, he had no idea—it wasn’t as if Jakub’s attitude toward him had changed in any noticeable way in the past few months. But something sure felt different, and he couldn’t put a name to it.

“Are you sure you should be wearing that jacket for this?” Jakub asked abruptly.

“What? This?” Cheshire tugged at the lapel of his burgundy suit coat, made from his personal stash of Astoria- bought worsted wool. “I guess February is a little late for a holiday jacket. But it just has such a great fit, and it breathes really—”

“I mean, this is a heist,” Jakub interrupted. “I didn’t think you’d want to risk damaging it.” His nose scrunched for a moment and then he added, “It is a really good fit.”

“Uh….” Cheshire blanked for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Just be careful.”

“…Sure.” Maybe I should have asked Bunny to make me a mind reader, Cheshire thought, casting mystified glances Jakub’s way. What’s going on in there anyway?

“There it is,” said Jakub, and Cheshire startled, hurrying to look to the water. A small fishing boat had extinguished its running lights and was heading for the wharf.

“There it is,” Cheshire echoed with a smirk, and he looked over his shoulder to where Charlie Tighe and two Foley goons were already gagged and hogtied inside their own truck. “Just sit tight; your friends will be here soon.” Charlie struggled and groaned, but then Cheshire and Jakub hopped out of the truck and drew the door shut behind them.

“Just like we planned,” Cheshire said as they moved out of sight of the approaching ship, joined by Leon Szpilman and three of his larger cousins. “I’ll do the talking.”

“Don’t you always?” Jakub replied, but it didn’t sound like he was poking fun, making Cheshire wonder all over again, What is he even thinking anyway?

The boat had some trouble docking in the middle of the night with no one on the wharf to assist. Someone on board made a jump for the landing, cursing as they scraped their knees, and were still too late to do anything about the hull smacking into the concrete barrier with a loud crack. Cheshire winced and leaned in to Jakub’s ear. “Where in his rounds should that wharf guard be by now?”

“Close enough to have heard that,” Jakub said, clicking back the hammer of his revolver. “Let’s be quick.”

“Talking first,” Cheshire reminded him, tossing his cigarette away as they made their way to the water’s edge.

By the time they were spotted, the ship hands had managed to tie off their land lines. Two inside the boat were dragging crates up from the small hold while another stood ready to lift them up on the wharf, overseen by the first figure that had jumped to land. Up close the sloping shoulders gave away that it was Millie Tighe beneath the man’s work clothes, her wiry, red-blonde hair covered in a handkerchief. She was scanning the wharf and when she saw her welcoming crew approach, she startled. “Charlie?”

“Sorry, love,” Cheshire greeted. “But this is the part where you put your hands up.”

“You!?” Millie reached behind her, but the man next to her had already spotted Jakub and the Szpilmans with their guns out, and he grabbed her arm. She glared at the six of them hatefully as she shifted back and forth, anxious to draw her weapon anyway. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s my brother?”

Cheshire held his hands up in a placating gesture. “He’s fine,” he said, aiming for charming, even though Millie was in far from a charmable mood. “He’s in the truck. We don’t want any trouble, we just want the booze.”

“How did you know about this?” Millie demanded while the boat hands looked to each other. “Charlie and I were the only ones who—”

“Does it matter?” said Cheshire with a shrug. “This is a private wharf, you know—any minute now some two-nickel cop is gonna make his rounds and find us here.” He waved for them to get a move on. “Now kindly help your friends unload our liquor for us.”

Millie seethed, but a tug on her arm reeled her in. “He better be all right in there,” she grumbled, and with some coaxing from Jakub, she and her crew handed over their weapons.

The Foleys kept their heads down as they did as asked, unloading crates onto the wharf to be carted off by Leon and his family to their truck. “Boss Foley isn’t going to stand for this,” Millie said as she jostled the crates more than was necessary while passing them on. “He will pay you back.”

“Boss Foley ought to be retired by now,” Cheshire retorted. “We cut you out of the north bank, claimed everything you had west of McGuinness. You’ve got no territory and nothing to sell. Why not quit while you’re, well, behind?” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Try your luck in Atlantic City, or—”

“Oh shut up,” Millie snapped, but when Cheshire raised an eyebrow at her, she flinched and folded her arms. “We’re doing what you want, all right? Don’t gotta be a right prick about it.”

“Hurry up,” said Jakub. “Or we’ll leave you here for the guards to find.” Millie scowled but she went back to work.

There were only two dozen crates in all—not much of a take for what had once been Greenpoint’s leading family. Cheshire almost felt sorry for them, even though he was already looking forward to personally testing the authentic Irish whiskey. They marched Millie and her gang back to Charlie’s truck and opened up the back for her to get a look. “Like I said,” said Cheshire, gesturing inside. “He’s fine.”

“Charlie!” Millie started to climb into the truck, but Jakub grabbed her around the waist, hauling her back out. She stumbled on the concrete several steps but was caught by one of the boathands before she could fall. “What?” she shouted at them, furious. “What now? You’re going to pile us all in there and smoke us like last time? Or make us disappear like you did Shane Foley?”

Cheshire’s heart skipped a beat. Almost three years after that night in the alley he thought he had finally heard the name Shane Foley for the last time. Before he had time to process, a voice rose from the far side of the warehouse, shouting in alarm. “Oi!” yelled a man in a long coat and a stiff cap, shining a flashlight at them. “Who goes there?”

Leon and his cousins turned to make a run for it, as did Millie’s boathands. But Millie herself went hard, grabbing her revolver from the back of Leon’s belt as he tried to bolt. She fired two shots at the approaching guard and then whipped around, leveling the gun straight at Cheshire as he and Jakub reared. Her finger was already on the trigger and he had only a moment to react.

The gun exploded in her hand. Cheshire tried to rein it in but the fireball lit up the wharf, illuminating the scattering crew. Her scream chilled Cheshire’s blood, but then Jakub had him by the arm, and they were running for the Szpilman’s truck. “She tried to shoot me,” Cheshire said as Jakub hauled him into the truck’s rear.

“I know,” said Jakub, helping Leon inside while the others leapt into the cab. With a roar of the engine they took off almost before Jakub could get the door down.

They settled in among the crates, backs to the walls as the truck veered out onto the road. Cheshire took in a deep breath and for a moment thought he could smell burning flesh. Panic seized him and he reached for his face—his skin felt warm from the blast, and he couldn’t tell straight away if it was like the last time, red light branding his cheeks. Does that count? he thought anxiously, remembering Millie’s arms and face disappearing behind a fireball. When he met Jakub’s eyes he didn’t detect any surprise or confusion, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. He pulled his glove down just far enough to make sure the seal on his palm wasn’t still glowing.

“Are you all right?” Jakub asked. “She didn’t hit you.”

“I know, I just….” Cheshire quickly tugged his glove back down before Leon could see and offered them both a shaky smile. “She caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

“That was incredible,” said Leon, his eyes wide with excitement. “I’ve heard all about your magic, but I’ve never seen it like that! Boom! Serves her right.”

“Ha! Right? The Foleys never learn.” Cheshire laughed, but he didn’t quite like the sound of it, and he dragged one of the whiskey crates over to him. “Barney won’t notice one bottle missing, right? I want to be the first to try it.”

He slipped one hand between the slats to pry it open, but then Jakub took his wrist, halting him. “There’ll be plenty of time to test it when we get back,” he said. “Besides, the road is bumpy. You don’t want to spill on that jacket.”

Cheshire let the crate go so he could give his lapels a pat, relieved not to find any singe marks. “You really like this jacket, huh?” he asked, unable to help beaming a little despite himself.

Jakub pulled a face. “I just don’t want to have to hear you complain about it,” he muttered.

He settled against the wall next to Cheshire, and for a brief moment Cheshire was reminded of younger days, when the two of them would sit shoulder to shoulder at the Bottom Feeder for hours in easy, if lopsided, company. He was reminded of Jakub tucked under his arm. But then Leon started talking excitedly about explosions again, and he rose to the occasion, laughing past the anxious flutter behind his ribs.

***

They took the crates directly back to Kozlow’s building in Williamsburg, and as Cheshire helped unload with the Szpilmans, Jakub caught Hannah emerging from the back entrance. She gave him a look he had no trouble interpreting, and with a deep breath he headed inside.

Even though it was already nearing midnight, the building seemed to grow quieter still as Jakub reached the top floor. He slipped through the door at the end of the hall, into the boss’ suite, and there met Barney seated at his father’s desk. Papers were strewn about and Barney was leaning wearily into his palm as he glared from one to the next.

“Sir?” Jakub said.

Barney grumbled and rubbed his eyes. “Fucking…don’t call me that.” He leaned back in his chair, hair falling limply against his face. “I guess it went okay?”

“The boat was there, like we were told,” Jakub confirmed, careful to keep Cheshire’s name out of it. “It was only two dozen crates but it looks like good quality liquor. The dock guard spotted us but I’m not worried about it.”

“Then it’s fine.” Barney snorted. “Two dozen. They’re literally scraping the bottom of the barrel, huh? If their family back home couldn’t help them more than that, the Foleys are really fucked.”

“Barney,” Kasper called from the next room, and Barney flinched at the sound of it. “Is that Jakub?”

Barney inclined his head, and taking that as an order, Jakub moved past him, into the bedroom.

The bedside lamp flicked on. Jakub approached and lent Kasper his arm to help him sit up in bed, as much as Kasper was willing to depend on anyone. He looked as if he had been pulled from an already restless sleep, and his limbs had a difficult time obeying him. Jakub tried his best not to look at the drool on his chin.

“What were you saying about the Foleys?” Kasper asked, one eye trained on Jakub’s face, the other slightly askew. “They’re on their last legs, sir,” said Jakub. “They were trying to import crates of whiskey, but we caught them at the wharf and took it. That’s the third sale they’ve lost to us in the last few months.” He glanced behind him, hesitating a moment before admitting, “Thanks to Bloom’s informant.”

“Anyone in Foley can’t be trusted,” said Kasper, but then he seemed to chew on his opinion a moment longer. “Well. Foley won’t last long now. All they have left is one measly building and they’re behind on payments. As long as we starve them out…”

He trailed off, disoriented. Jakub gave him a moment and then said, “Yes, sir,” in the hopes of focusing him again. “We’ll stay on top of them. It shouldn’t be long now.”

“Good. Good.” Kasper finally touched his face, and with a scowl he drew the sheets up to wipe his mouth. “Counting on you.”

“…Yes, sir.” Jakub helped him to lie down again and then returned to the study, where Barney was carving his pen into the corner of the desk. He started to walk past without saying anything, but then he thought of Hannah likely waiting below and paused. “Hey,” he said. “Are you going to come down to see the whiskey?”

Barney made a sour face, but after some consideration he nodded and pushed to his feet. “Sure. Since it’s ours now.”

Sure enough Hannah was waiting, and the three of them headed down into the cellar. Hannah went over the ledger and detailed where they planned to sell the liquor and for how much. Barney listened, making an effort to appear attentive. It seemed to do him some good, until he noticed that one of the crates had already been opened.

“It’s been here an hour and he’s already stealing from me,” he grumbled, and he marched back up the stairs.

“It’s just one bottle,” said Hannah as she gave chase, Jakub bringing up the rear. “Don’t get wound up.”

They reached the first floor and found the raiding party easily: Cheshire and the Szpilmans had settled in the apartment of one of the first floor tenants, who appeared more than happy to host them. Laughing and celebrating, they passed the bottle of whiskey around in the crowded single room. A few of the other apartment dwellers were even beginning to peek out of their rooms to see what the fuss was about. Cheshire was seated on the bed sandwiched between Leon and his cousin, gesturing enthusiastically through some story as usual. He was definitely within his element, and Jakub dreaded what kind of disruption Barney was about to cause.

“Bloom,” Barney snapped from the doorway, but Cheshire was still in the middle of his daring tale and didn’t pause. Even those closest to the door that took note of Barney weren’t inclined to heed him over their star attraction. His fists balled, and Jakub stepped forward, hoping to calm any confrontation before it could grow. He didn’t get the chance: someone knocked heavily on the building’s outside door.

“This is the police!” called a deep voice. “Open this door!”

Jakub darted into the room. The voice was loud enough that most of the occupants quieted—even Cheshire—but he wasn’t about to take chances. He snatched up the mostly empty whiskey bottle and dashed into the corner, hiding it in the stove.

Cheshire turned over his shoulder to watch. “As an expert on things exploding, I’d say that’s not—”

“Then don’t light it,” said Jakub, just as Hannah’s voice rose in the hall, greeting their unexpected guests.

Everyone looked to the door. A few tried to tidy themselves while others spread playing cards out on the floor to make it look as if something interesting had been going on in the room without alcohol. Barney sank into a corner and even Cheshire smoothed his hair down. It probably wasn’t that convincing, and when a familiar face appeared in the doorway, Jakub’s heart skipped: It was Detective Alice.

He wasn’t all that much more presentable than the rest of them—trench coat dragged over a simple button down, no tie, hat rim creased. But the fire in his eyes as he scanned the room was painfully familiar, and recently so. It was the same face Barney had been making moments ago, and their aim was the same. Jakub couldn’t see Cheshire’s face from his position, but he could have sworn he felt him gulp.

“Cheshire Bloom,” said Alice, a trio of cops close behind him. “I have some questions for you.”

To his credit, Cheshire didn’t miss a beat. “Danny!” he greeted brightly, and he leaned forward to the edge of the mattress. “Come join us. I have a feeling you’re a champ at poker.”

“You know why I’m here, and it’s not for games.” Alice gestured for him to come forward. “Come with me.”

The room held its breath. Jakub shifted just enough to feel the weight of the revolver in his belt. It wasn’t an option but for just one instant he was tempted, months of self-discipline crashing beneath the threat of Cheshire once again being driven away in the back of a police car. A thousand terrible choices and scenarios flashed through his head at once but he couldn’t move.

“Am I under arrest?” Cheshire asked innocently enough. “You’re going to want to talk to me now,” Alice replied. “Then I’m not under arrest, so I think I’ll stay here and finish my drink.”

Even knowing that Cheshire wasn’t that foolish, Jakub tensed all over again. But Cheshire only held both hands out in front of him, empty, and began miming the action of uncorking a bottle. “It’s not much,” he said as he poured himself an invisible drink to the shock of his audience. “But it’s the best we have in Dry America. If you’d care for some?”

All eyes bounced continuously between the two men as Alice stood, staring, caught between bewildered and furious. “I know what you did at the wharf,” he said, his voice clenched. “I heard it from Millie Tighe’s own mouth.”

“Oh?” Cheshire gave a little shrug. “You don’t have to worry about that—I’m not going to press charges.”

Jakub could have sworn he was seeing stars. He risked a glance to Barney and was glad that he’d wedged himself into the corner out of Alice’s line of sight, because he looked like he was about to be sick. This can’t be how he talked his way out of Alice’s precinct before, he thought, suddenly desperate to know what had transpired those years ago. What the hell is he doing?

“What?” Alice squared his shoulders. “If anyone’s going to press charges, it’s—”

“My buddy Leon and I were taking a stroll down the waterfront,” Cheshire interrupted, and his boldness would have been horrifying if it wasn’t so captivating. “I guess we wandered a little too far, ‘cause we came across the Tighes trying to haul liquor off the river. She tried to shoot me—did she tell you that part?” He tapped himself on the forehead. “Pointed her gun straight at me. Lucky for me it backfired or I’d’ve been a goner!”

“Backfired,” Alice repeated, glaring holes through Cheshire’s face. “You expect me to believe that?”

Jakub had to fold his arms to keep his fingers from itching toward the gun again. “Everyone knows the Foleys deal in Hallorrans,” he said, and around the room others nodded in agreement, dazedly following along. “Guns like that are dangerous in the hands of an amateur.”

Alice’s cold stare shifted targets; Jakub welcomed it, not bothering to hide his animosity, but even he wasn’t immune to the detective’s well-worn intimidation. There was a sharpness in his attention that hinted that he knew exactly who and what he was up against. Even though there was no way he could have known Jakub’s involvement in his previous dealings with Cheshire, the downward twitch of his lip suggested he might. After a beat he looked back to Cheshire. “I have a witness who said he saw you use magic on that girl,” he said. “A credible one.”

“Her gun backfired,” Cheshire said again, unfazed. “Happens all the time. But if your witness is sore on me for trespassing, well.” He shrugged again with all the appearance of ease, but his tone dipped just enough. “I’m happy to look him in the eye and apologize.”

Alice didn’t move, but his stillness changed somehow, like water behind ice. He stared Cheshire down a moment longer, and as the room looked on in anticipation, Jakub was struck by a realization. Is he really afraid of Cheshire? It was such a ridiculous notion, after having watched Cheshire fuss with his suit coat all evening like a little boy, and it made Jakub hate the man even more.

“I want you to come down to the precinct first thing in the morning,” Alice said, leaning back on his heels. To some it may have looked like he was trying to appear taller and unintimidated, but to Jakub it was only the first sign of his coming retreat. “You’re going to give a statement concerning what you just told me. You, too, Mr. Szpilman.”

Cheshire threw his arm around Leon’s shoulders. “Happily,” he answered for them both. “Sure you don’t want a drink? I nicked one of—”

“No thank you, Mr. Bloom.” Alice nodded to the room as his deputies gradually relaxed behind him. “Pardon the intrusion.” Though he looked pained, he turned to go.

“Detective,” Cheshire called after him, and Jakub was tempted to slap him unconscious. But he was all out of teasing jabs. “What happened to Ms. Tighe? Is she all right?”

Alice snorted. “No, not really,” he replied, and with that he marched out, his peers exchanging mystified looks as they followed.

The room went dead silent, every ear trained on the sound of Alice’s retreating footsteps. Then the door closed, and as Hannah moved into the doorway to give them the all clear, Barney stepped out of his corner.

“Bloom,” he said tersely. “That was real fucking—”

“That was incredible!” erupted Leon. “Boom, he does it again! I nearly shat myself!”

The rest of the room followed suit, laughing and cheering even as they wiped sweat from their brows. “I can’t believe you’ve got the stones to talk to Alice of all people like that,” Leon continued excitedly. “What if he’d pulled you in?”

“Oh, he’s all right,” said Cheshire. He grinned ear to ear beneath the praise. “Danny and I go way back.”

“Stones,” said one of Leon’s cousins. He weighed his hands for emphasis. “Huge ones.”

Everyone went straight back to their earlier merriment. Barney watched them laugh and chatter, red-faced and fists tight. But he didn’t try to interrupt again. Without a word he turned and stalked out. Hannah made way for him, and then shot Jakub a withering look before following him down the hall. Jakub finally let his breath out. His pulse was still a swift staccato and he didn’t know if he wanted to ring Cheshire’s bell or drag him into bed. How dare he look so charming when he’d come so close to getting himself thrown in jail for real.

He couldn’t stay—he was sure his face would give him away this time. He headed for the door, but he had to pass by the bed to get there. It wasn’t a surprise but he still jumped anyway when Cheshire leaned forward and snagged his arm.

“Jakub!” Cheshire’s smile was nearly bright enough to blind. “Come join us!”

“I should—”

Cheshire was already reeling him in. “Go grab the whiskey out of the stove,” he said to Leon’s cousin, elbowing him. “Before someone lights the damn thing!” Laughing, the man complied, and as soon as he’d vacated his seat Cheshire dragged Jakub down onto the bed with him.

“That was really stupid,” Jakub said, trying to sound cross even as face went red. “He’s going to hold a grudge, and you’ll never be rid of him.”

“I know!” Cheshire threw his arm around Jakub and laughed some more. “I’m a real dummy, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you really are.” Even so, when the whiskey returned, he followed Cheshire’s encouragement and took a long gulp. He let the warmth of it hitting his stomach relax him into Cheshire’s side and savored the laughter in his ears.

***

The casual celebration went on for another hour after that. Cheshire kept Jakub close under his arm as long as he could, plowing through story after story. He didn’t manage to get much out of him in the way of smiles or approval, but he didn’t even try to wriggle free—he even seemed rather content where he was. That alone was enough to keep Cheshire buzzing with energy just beneath his skin.

When their host finally shooed everyone out, Cheshire took a moment to shake a lot of Szpilman hands, and in the process lost track of Jakub—just long enough for him to slip out without a word. Not that there was anything left to do but go to bed, but he still felt childishly put out to not even get a “good night.”

Cheshire headed up to his apartment on the third floor. He took the stairs two at a time and hummed to himself, determined to maintain his cheer until the moment he could fall straight to sleep. It doesn’t count, he told himself as he tumbled inside. Just because she got hit doesn’t mean I was aiming at her. He retrieved a special garment bag from his closet that he’d been saving and tossed it on the bed. That doesn’t count as using it on the living.

He stared down at the garment bag, its zipper open and fabric creased. The empty casing gave him an inexplicable chill. “It doesn’t count, right Bunny?” he whispered into the room. “Right?”

“Cheshire?”

Cheshire jumped and turned to find Jakub standing in the doorway. “Jakub!” He laughed overly-loud and smoothed his tie down self-consciously. “I thought you went straight to bed.”

“I went to check on Barney,” said Jakub, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “But Hannah said he was already asleep.”

“Oh, right.” Cheshire loosened his tie, trying to keep an eye on Jakub without looking like he was. “I was pretty good tonight, huh? I didn’t antagonize Barney at all, just like you asked. Didn’t even say a word to him.”

Jakub sighed. “I asked you to take it easy on him because he’s having a hard time. Not to ignore him.”

“I didn’t! Did I?” Cheshire remembered Barney entering the room, but was too addled by drink and good company to pay any attention to anything he might have said. He shrugged as he tossed his tie onto the pillow. He started to remove his gloves as well, but then hesitated and began undoing his cufflinks instead. “I’m really doing my best for Kozlow, you know,” he carried on. “Once we squeeze the Foleys out, Barney and his old man will breathe easier. Isn’t that pretty good?”

He expected a longer hold out, and was surprised when Jakub surrendered a quiet, “Yeah. You were pretty good.”

Cheshire swelled with the praise. “Yeah? If you say so, I must have really been.” He chuckled to himself, but in watching Jakub he felt suddenly tangled. Jakub’s dark eyes were fixed on him very intently, as if waiting for or expecting something. Cheshire gulped. “I mean, I am trying, you know,” he rambled on. “I know ever since Boss Kozlow got laid up, you’ve had a hard time of it keeping things together. So I figure it’s good for the gang to feel like we’re moving forward, getting things done. If Barney has a problem with it he can tell me to back off, but—”

“No, you’re right.” Jakub stepped closer. “I know. I, um. I appreciate it.”

Jakub’s expressions had never been an open book to Cheshire, but his current lack of readable emotion went far beyond anything Cheshire had ever attempted to suss out. He had no idea what to do and his brain latched onto the least sensible interpretation. Does he…want a hug? he thought, mind flung back to a hospital entranceway, Jakub swaying into his chest. It was a surreal notion and he sometimes wondered if his drunk brain had invented that memory. He didn’t look anything like that now, not with his heavy brows and hard stare. There was nothing in his posture that suggested even a hint of frailty. Why would he even think that at all?

“You’re welcome.” Cheshire wasn’t drunk enough to ignore his instinct for self preservation, so he tried to squash the strange impulse, only to find an equally strange one in its place. “I was just about to put this suit coat away,” he said, shrugging it off. “It’s not going to top tonight anytime soon, so hibernation until November seems like a good idea. It’s really good work, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Jakub agreed, following Cheshire’s movements with his gaze. “Your tailor seems to really know you.”

“I give him an outrageous amount of business.” Cheshire chuckled and offered the jacket up. “Do you want to try it on?”

Jakub’s face went bright red. “Why?”

“I dunno, because it’s a great jacket.” Cheshire grabbed for the simple brown coat Jakub was wearing and tried to tug it off him—with little success, given he was one handed and Jakub was wriggling away. “C’mon, just see how you like it.”

“It’ll never fit me,” Jakub protested, trying to shrug him off.

“So what? It’s just for fun.”

“But I don’t…fine.” Jakub frowned intensely as he finally allowed Cheshire to remove his jacket to be tossed on the bed. “Just for a minute.”

“That’s the spirit.” Cheshire gave the jacket a fluff and then helped Jakub into it. He took almost too much enjoyment from smoothing the lapels across Jakub’s chest, and just for a moment he thought he felt Jakub lean into the contact. But he had to be imagining it; Jakub may have still been blushing, but his eyes were fit to murder.

“There,” said Cheshire, adjusting the seams as best he could given their different stature. He felt as if his hands were tingling and he couldn’t stop touching the fabric. “It’s not bad, is it? Nice soft wool, but still sturdy! Breathes like a dream.”

“Yes,” said Jakub stiffly. He fiddled with the hem of the sleeves. “But it smells like whiskey.”

“So I’ll have it cleaned.” Cheshire finished his fussing, but he still couldn’t bring himself to lower his hands from Jakub’s shoulders. “I still have some of the bolt left, you know. I could have you made one, too.”

Jakub snorted. “So we’d match? No thanks.” At last Jakub gave the fabric a proper feel of his own, toying with the vents on each side. “It suits you better anyway.”

“Suit yourself. Or, don’t. Get it?” Cheshire laughed and thought maybe he saw Jakub’s lip twitch? Maybe? But then again, his face was still so tight and intense he was wary of pushing for more. What is he thinking? he wondered yet again. After all this time shouldn’t I have figured him out? He licked his lips. “Listen, Jakub—”

The phone rang.

Both of them startled. Cheshire was tempted to ignore it, but the second ring sounded more insistent than the first somehow, and it put a pit in his stomach. With a sheepish smile he finally let go of Jakub’s shoulders and crossed the room to lift the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Bloom,” said a sultry, feminine voice, and Cheshire’s mind went blank. “Have you missed me?”

Cheshire didn’t have enough presence of mind even to gulp. He stood with the phone to his ear nearly ten full seconds, frozen, before a quiet hum on the other end of the line spurred his heart to beating. “How….” He could feel Jakub watching him curiously but didn’t dare look back. “Where are you?”

“Close,” said Bunny. The hairs on the back of Cheshire’s neck stood on end. “There’s a charming little diner across the street from your building. Won’t you join me?”

“But why—” Cheshire started to ask, but then the line clicked and went dead. He stood still for a while longer anyway, listening as if she might come back on at any moment. Jakub clearing his throat jarred him to life and he hung up with a clatter.

“Who was that?” Jakub asked.

“It was….” Cheshire couldn’t even begin to assemble a passable lie, so he plastered a smile into place. “Sorry. I gotta go.”

“It’s after midnight,” Jakub reminded him, watching him head for the door. “And the cops have their eye out for you.”

“It’s not like that,” Cheshire assured, even though he couldn’t quite process what Jakub was inferring. “I’ll stay out of trouble, I just…gotta go.”

He reached the door and there paused as he looked back. Finally he could identify the particular slant of Jakub’s heavy brows: concern, and disappointment. Maybe that was all it had ever been, and it was fitting for a moment like this, with uncertain fate waiting in a diner across the street. His stomach roiled at the thought.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, hopefully.

“Wait,” said Jakub, taking a step forward. “Don’t you want your—”

Cheshire didn’t wait to hear; he didn’t want anything in that moment, letting his feet carry him in a swift retreat down the hall to the stairs. He could barely carry a conscious thought. As soon as he was out in the street, and he spotted the glow from the diner, his heart thudded into his throat. So late at night there were only a pair of men in a booth, and a woman seated at the counter. Even just her silhouette dried his mouth out, but he propelled himself forward all the same.

Bunny Swanson looked up at the sound of the door opening, and she immediately caught Cheshire’s eye. Her smile punched his stomach into his spine. It had been years but she looked exactly the same, in her smooth white dress and dark fur coat, her pale hair delicately curled, her lips ruby red. Her features were soft, the beauty mark next to her nose completing her old-fashioned aesthetic. As he took a seat next to her at the counter, he felt like a young teenager again.

“Bunny,” he said quietly, staying very still as if there were wires drawn through the air he dare not disturb. “Um… what are you doing here?”

“You called me, silly,” Bunny replied. She pushed the small plate of pecan pie in front of her over to him. “Have some.”

Cheshire didn’t feel much like eating, but he accepted anyway, his fingers clenching tight around the fork. “I, uh, guess this is it, then?” he said, forcing a smile. “It counts after all?”

Bunny made a pouting face. “What’s with that look?” she scolded. “Are you scared of me?”

“I…” Cheshire wilted, then tried to draw himself back up, tried to make his smile sincere. “Well I figured…it’s the end of the line. Aren’t you going to….” He chuckled thinly. “Fire and brimstone?”

Bunny continued to stare back at him, thoughtful and maybe disappointed. Just as Cheshire began to sweat, she abruptly flashed him a much more welcoming smile. “No, not tonight,” she said, and Cheshire sagged with relief. “A little poof like that isn’t enough to impress me, you know. You would have felt it, if it was. Have a bite of the pie, dear.”

Cheshire did so. In any other circumstance it would have been delicious. “Thanks,” he said automatically.

“You really shouldn’t worry so much,” said Bunny, motioning for him to keep eating. He did. “It’s not as if it really matters if it ‘counts’ or not, right? I gave you these powers because I was interested to see what you’d do with them. I don’t want you hold back because you’re scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” Cheshire said quickly, though he was sure his smile wasn’t convincing. “I just don’t want to think…. that I used up all my time on something stupid.”

“You don’t have anything to fret about. You and I are going to have plenty of time eventually.” She leaned into her palm. “I’m in no hurry.”

Cheshire stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth. He met her gaze and found himself struck still by how impossibly black her eyes were. “What?”

Bunny’s smile didn’t falter, though it somehow became sharper without her moving a muscle. “Don’t be coy; you know what I mean.” She leaned in closer, slowly, and her slender hand found his wrist. “You just keep doing what you’re doing and don’t worry your little head about what does or doesn’t ‘count.’ It matters so little in the grand scheme of things.”

She nudged Cheshire’s hand toward his mouth, guiding him to finish the bite he’d stopped partway through. “There,” she said. “Don’t you feel better already?”

Cheshire swallowed as he set the fork back down. “Yes.”

“That’s my boy.” Bunny gave his cheek a gentle pat and then stood elegantly from her stool, tugging her fur up around her neck. “Good night, Mr. Bloom.”

She showed herself out, her heels tapping. The diner was mostly empty, but each of the eyes present followed her out before turning on Cheshire. He couldn’t bring himself to meet any of them, instead just staring down at the unfinished pie until the waitress passed.

“You finished with that, hun?” she asked.

“Oh—no.” With a deep breath Cheshire regained his composure and started picking at the pie with his fork. “It’s delicious, I’m just taking it slow because I’m drunk.”

“There’ll be fresh coffee here waiting for you in the morning,” the waitress said cheerily.

She winked at him, and it turned his stomach, but he managed to flash her a smile in return. “Actually,” he said before she could continue on. “If you don’t mind, I’d like some now.”

Sympathy eased into her expression, making him wonder what assumptions she was making of him. Surely she couldn’t have heard his conversation with Bunny…. “Not planning on getting any sleep, huh?” she teased gently. “I’ll get a fresh pot going.”

“Thanks.” Cheshire kept smiling until she had turned her back and then sank into his palm, watching his fork cut the pie into smaller and smaller chunks.

***

Jakub waited in the room for several minutes after Cheshire had left, expecting that at any moment he would hop back up the stairs in search of his jacket. Certainly he wouldn’t have run out to meet with some unknown woman without his signature piece. When he didn’t reappear, Jakub crept into the hall and peeked down the stairs, still without sign of him. He then dashed up the stairs to the fourth floor.

Kasper had granted him a larger apartment closer to his suite following his apoplexy, and—not for the first time—Jakub was grateful not to be directly next to Cheshire’s room. He dashed inside and threw himself onto the bed with a sigh. The jacket was still warm, still smelled like Cheshire’s sweat and magic, and he drew it tightly around him, breathing it in. Such soft, sturdy fabric. Jakub knew how he must have looked but he didn’t care, enjoying the subtle weight against his shoulders. He was just drunk enough that his imagination was able to supply him with a very convincing fantasy of Cheshire curled up against his back, lulling him into a deep and peaceful sleep.

He was awoken some time later by a heavy knocking on his door that dispelled what had been shaping up to be a very pleasant dream. Mumbling groggily to himself, he glared at the door and had no intention of getting up; by then the body heat from the jacket was only his own, but he wasn’t about to give up even that when it was still dark outside. Then the knock came again, and Hannah called, “Jakub, it’s me!”

Jakub jolted upright. Hannah wasn’t above knocking the door in if she needed to, and he quickly struggled out of Cheshire’s jacket to stow beneath his sheets. With a modest effort to rearrange his hair he answered the door.

Hannah was in the hall, looking irritated but not concerned, clothes thrown on as if having been roused from bed herself. A slim-statured man Jakub had never seen before was waiting next to her. Before she could get a word out, the man shouldered past her and into the apartment. Dulled by drink and sleep, Jakub took an instinctual step back to stay out of his range, watching in hazy bewilderment as the man shut the door in Hannah’s face.

“Hey!” Hannah resumed pounding on the door, decidedly more irritated. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The stranger put his back to the door, his hand on the handle to keep her from opening it, not that he had enough weight on him to prevent her if she gave it real effort. He was wearing an overcoat thrown over his button down, a distractingly gaudy necktie loose around his neck. “Tell her it’s fine,” he said, and with his free hand he held his coat open to show he wasn’t armed.

Jakub struggled to remember where his revolver was as he moved to switch on a nearby lamp. With proper lighting the man looked even less like a threat: he was young, late teens at best, with dull, gray eyes and red-brown hair arched in a widow’s peak. Whatever intensity was in his furrowed eyebrows, Jakub had no doubt he could take him even if he was still half-sloshed and unarmed.

“It’s all right, Hannah,” Jakub called, not taking his eyes off the stranger. “We’re fine.”

She replied with something but didn’t keep knocking; even so, the man didn’t take his hand off the knob. “Ye’re Jakub Danowicz, are you?” he asked, his voice suddenly thick with an Irish accent that didn’t match the almond shape of his eyes. “Bloom says I should come to you ‘ever I can’t reach him.”

Jakub straightened up. I shouldn’t have had the whiskey, he thought, cursing his past self. It took him a beat longer than it should have for him to put two and two together. “You’re Bloom’s Foley informant?”

The man’s face scrunched when he scowled. “Are you or aren’t you Jakub Danowicz?”

“I am.” Jakub spared a quick glance behind him, taking note of the half-open drawer he stowed his weapons in. “What’s going on?”

“The Foleys are coming after ye, tonight,” he said. He finally let go of the door so he could try to tidy his slouching necktie. “The Boss bailed Charlie out and he’s all huffed up on account’a what Bloom did to his sister, he could shit a steamboat. They’re coming for the whiskey.”

He had barely finished when Jakub headed for the drawer, his head already pounding. Coming here? Half the Szpilmans left and our own boys are drunker than I am. “When?” he asked as he retrieved his revolver and checked it for ammo. “Where’s Bloom?”

The man made another face at him. “Are yer ears decoration only? Tonight, as in now, did you catch that this time? And I don’t know where Bloom is otherwise I’d be at his door right now, wouldn’t I?”

Jakub blinked at him, too baffled to properly respond. But the urgency of the news propelled him onward, and with gun in hand he returned. “How many are they bringing?”

“As many as they’ve got to bring, likely.” He scooted away from the door as Jakub approached, suddenly giving him a wide berth. “They don’t got much on them to lose.”

Jakub pulled the door open and wasn’t surprised to see Hannah still in the hall, arms folded. “Go wake Barney,” he told her. “We’ve got Foley’s incoming.”

“Shit.” Hannah immediately pushed away from the wall and headed toward his door. “This night is never-ending.”

Jakub started to head the other way, hoping to rouse as many of their troops as possible on his way to the basement, only to realize that the Foley stranger wasn’t following. He turned back in time to watch his own door smack shut.

“Hey!” Jakub doubled back and gave the door a solid bang of his fist. “What are you doing?”

“You let me know once you’ve cleared them out,” the stranger called through the door, his voice back to an unassuming Brooklyn accent. “I’m no good to you if they see me here.”

Jakub glared at the door, exasperated and making a quick mental tally of his belongings ripe for stealing. His mind went right to the suit jacket, and with red in his cheeks he hurried down to the lower floor.

“Cheshire!” He didn’t have much hope for finding Cheshire in his room, but he knocked on the door anyway. No answer. He moved on to the others and managed to find three of Kozlow’s regulars and a leftover Szpilman sober enough to aim a gun. After having divvied them up among the building’s exits he headed to the cellar door where Barney and Hannah were waiting, armed and anxious.

“Who is this guy anyway?” Barney grumbled as he opened the door to the alley to peek out. “Why should we trust him?”

“It’s because of him that we have this whiskey,” said Jakub. “If he wanted Foley to have it, he didn’t have to tell us about it in the first place.”

“That doesn’t make him trustworthy.”

“Quiet,” said Hannah. “We’ll know soon enough. Do you see anything?”

“No, not even a rat.” Barney tensed, adjust his grip on his gun. “Wait—I hear engines.”

Hannah tugged on his shoulder. “Step back. We can flank them as soon as they get inside.”

But Barney shrugged her off and waved her back. “They’re not getting inside,” he snapped. “This is our home. The first one of them to open this door is getting a bullet.”

Jakub and Hannah exchanged a look, but they could already hear cars braking in the alley beyond.

***

Cheshire didn’t finish his pie, but he did gulp down two cups of coffee while entertaining the diner’s late night patrons and staff. Even the cook leaned forward against the expediting window to listen to his tale of the The Cherry smokeout. It was nearing two in the morning, with the waitresses eager to shoo him out, that a pair of rusty Chevys drove up to the alley entrance alongside Kozlow’s building.

Cheshire moved to the doorway to watch, a nervous prickle in his stomach. Were more Szpilmans showing up? he wondered, even though his instincts were already telling him otherwise. Are they moving the liquor tonight? Those foolish hopes scattered as a group of muscular Foley goons began to pile out of the cars.

“Shit,” Cheshire muttered, and he slipped outside, trying to keep the door from jingling. The Foleys were already disappearing into the alley, too focused to notice him. Should I just go in through the front? he thought as he hurried across the street, trying to stay out of sight of the pair left behind as guards to the still running cars. He managed to crouch down behind the rear of the second car without catching their attention and rolled up his sleeves, gearing up for a fight. Get Jakub and the others? Or would that be waking them up into an ambush? Would fucking Chuck really kill them in their sleep if I can’t get to them in time?

A gun went off, followed by shouting and a thud, and there wasn’t any time to make a plan. Cheshire charged out from behind the car and barrelled into the Foley lookouts. With their heads turned toward the shot they were easy targets, and he knocked both to the ground—knocked himself down, too, and they struggled in a pile before Cheshire was able to get a solid right fist into the nose of the smaller one. The second Foley was a burly woman with biceps like barrels, and they grappled roughly until managing to each drag themselves upright. Cheshire braced himself against the brick alley wall and cast her a smirk. “Isn’t it a little late for—”

The woman threw herself at him with a growl, batting his attempts at defense aside to get her hands around his neck. Even the first clench of her fingers made him see stars, but luckily the gunfire resumed, closer than before, distracting the Foley long enough that he was able to pry her off. Then bullets started heading their way, too. The Foley woman ducked behind the open back door of her car while Cheshire made a leap to get behind the rear again.

“I’m not sober enough for this,” Cheshire complained as he patted himself down for gunshots. He peeked out from around the bumper just as the entire Foley crew dashed back to the cars, shouting and swearing as they piled inside. Just barely he heard the sound of a stick being shifted among the commotion, and with an ungraceful yelp he leapt clear just as the Chevy reversed.

Both cars roared back into the open street. The first took off straight away, streaking around the nearest corner, but the second hesitated. Cheshire looked up, shielding his eyes from the glare of the headlights. He could barely make out the driver, but when the rev of the engine put a sick feeling in his gut he just knew it was Charlie Tighe behind the wheel.

The car lurched toward him, but by then a trio had emerged from the Kozlow building and were firing on it, shattering the windshield. Someone inside shouted and the Chevy swerved, giving Cheshire enough time and space to throw himself clear. Then it was reversing again, teetering and rubber squealing, as it raced off after its peer.

“Holy hell,” said Cheshire as he put his back to the wall to catch his breath. He straightened his glasses and startled to find Jakub just beside him. “You okay?”

“Of course,” said Jakub, because of course he was, even if he did look a little rougher than Cheshire was used to. “Are you?”

Cheshire patted himself down again just to be sure and nodded. “What in the world was that?”

Hannah cursed sharply, and both of them looked further into the alley. She was gripping her arm and there was blood on her sleeve. “It’s not bad,” she said, joining Barney in standing over a dead body just outside the side door. “It just clipped me.”

“Piece of shit,” Barney snarled, and he kicked the body, blood spurting from the crater in the back of its head. Then he spotted Cheshire, and with a fresh scowl he beckoned him over. “Come drag this asshole inside before your cop boyfriend comes back.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Cheshire muttered as he complied. He and Jakub each took a leg, and Hannah kept the door propped open as they dragged the body out of sight. “But if you dared me, I might—”

“Christ, enough.” Barney scraped his wrist across his mouth and opened the door to the cellar. “Just stow him for now. We can toss him in the river tomorrow.”

Cheshire opened his mouth for another quip, but a glance from Jakub shut him up. “Sure thing, boss,” he replied instead, but that didn’t seem to go over any better. Doing his best not to get blood splattered, he and Jakub dragged the corpse to the basement and covered it with tarps and empty crates.

“That was lucky that you were ready for them,” Cheshire said as they climbed the stairs. “That many Foleys would have been trouble if they’d gotten inside the building.”

“Your informant warned us,” said Jakub. “He should still be in my apartment.”

“Really!” Cheshire grinned. “So, you got to meet him?”

“Bloom,” Barney interrupted as they made it back to the hallway. “Get your shit together. We’re going after them.”

“Going after them?” Hannah repeated incredulously.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I am! Look at what they tried!” Barney motioned emphatically toward bullet holes in the walls as gang members and tenants began to gather around them. “They came to us on our own turf ready to put lead in all of us. There’s no way in hell I’m letting that slide.”

“No one is going to let it slide,” said Jakub. “But we’re not in any state to go to war.”

“I’m still kinda drunk,” Cheshire agreed.

Barney whirled on him. “Then sober up fast,” he snapped. “They were willing to come here now—imagine what they’ll be ready for come morning. We need to chase them down and end this, once and for all.”

“It can wait one more night,” Hannah insisted. “We don’t even know where they went to hole up.”

Barney started to retort only to stop himself, his teeth grinding. He turned in place, and for a fraction of a moment, Cheshire felt sorry for him beneath the heavy stares of his surrounding family and subordinates. Then his eyes lit up, and he turned on Cheshire again. “That little rat of yours,” he said, and he turned toward the stairwell. “He’ll know.”

Uh-oh. Cheshire hurried after him. This could be trouble. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, Jakub and the rest at his back as they all headed for the fourth floor. After even one set of stairs they were already slowing down. “Look at us— everyone’s half asleep and more than half bent. Plus we gotta be careful using a mole. If he rats on them too much and they turn on him, he won’t be any good to us.”

“He won’t need to be if we take them all out,” Barney retorted. “Don’t be such a coward.” Cheshire made a face at his back as they continued up the steps.

Even Barney was winded by the time they reached Jakub’s door, but his eyes were blazing with determination as he knocked heavily. “You still in there, you little weasel?” he called.

“You know he’s been risking his neck for your operation, right?” said Cheshire. “You could try being nice to—”

Barney glared at Cheshire and knocked again. When he didn’t receive an answer he tried the knob and found it unlocked. As he twisted the door open Jakub suddenly shouldered past them both to be the first one inside, only to discover that nothing appeared disturbed, and there was no sign of anyone.

“That little shit,” said Barney. “This was probably all some scam to get his hands on our liquor.”

Jakub was moving about the room, checking his valuables, which meant there were no steely eyes on Cheshire urging him toward restraint. “C’mon Barn, get your head out of your ass,” Cheshire said. “We were just down in the cellar— nothing was knicked.”

“Why wouldn’t he wait until we told him it was all clear?” Jakub said as he closed up his drawers. “He’s probably still in the building.”

“He’s probably sacking the rooms,” Barney grumbled. “He’s still a Foley. Maybe he….”

Barney’s face went white, and he reached for his gun as he charged back out of the room. Again, Cheshire was close on his heels. “Barney, wait,” he said, anxiously watching Barney’s finger tap against the trigger guard. “What do you think you need that for?”

Barney didn’t reply, which was even more worrisome, and Cheshire was too sick with apprehension not to act. He lurched forward and grabbed the gun, gripping the cylinder and hammer together. Immediately Barney took a swing at him, but he was awkward with his off hand, and he couldn’t turn enough of his body in time. Cheshire’s greater height and weight made quick work of the brief confrontation; all it took was a yank to get Barney off balance, a shove to put him in the wall. The gun came out of Barney’s hand and he was livid.

“What the fuck are you doing!” he screamed. He tried to whirl on Cheshire but by then Hannah and the rest of their peers had swarmed forward, pulling the two of the apart. “Get off me! He’s after my dad!”

“That’s stupid!” Cheshire shot back, but Hannah’s face had already clouded over with the same dread Barney’s had, and she stopped trying to restrain him. The pair of them headed swiftly to Kasper’s door at the end of the hall and charged inside. Cheshire and the rest watched, dumbfounded. It wasn’t until Jakub passed as well that Cheshire was able to shake free and join them. “That’s stupid,” he said again as they crossed the threshold. “He’s not like that—he wouldn’t—”

The lights in the suite were already on, and Cheshire and Jakub followed voices to the back bedroom. Cheshire’s heart gave a heavy thump when he recognized a particularly biting accent from inside, but once there he quickly realized there was nothing to fear after all. Kasper was sitting up in bed, sipping from a glass of water while Barney hurled questions at the guest at his bedside: short, fussy-haired Edward Burke.

Cheshire heaved a sigh. “Eggy! You gave us a scare.”

“Oh sorry,” said Burke, without a hint of the sentiment.

“I was having me a chat with your boss here.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Barney demanded, and now that he was unarmed Cheshire couldn’t help but be curious about how their interaction would pan out. “You can’t just break in here and—”

“Enough,” grunted Kasper. He held out his glass, and since Burke was closest he accepted to pass it on to the bedside table. “This is Edward Burke. Show some manners.”

Barney stared, slack-jawed. His wide-eyed frustration was almost pitiable. Since he seemed to be out of steam for the moment, Cheshire stepped forward instead. “Sir, I’m glad you have the chance to meet him. Mr. Burke is the one that’s been feeding us information on Foley’s operations. We owe tonight’s score to him.”

“And foresight of tonight’s raid,” Hannah admitted, circling the bed to sit on Kasper’s other side. She was still eying Burke with an unnecessary degree of caution. “The Foleys are gone but we managed to kill one.”

“That seals it, then,” Burke said to Kasper. “What we were talking of.”

Kasper nodded, and Barney glanced back and forth between them. “What does that mean?” asked Barney, fists at his sides. “What are you even doing here?”

“He knows where the Foleys will fall back to,” said Kasper, and Cheshire felt heat flood up the back of his neck. “And you’re going to go take care of it. Tonight.”

Barney gathered himself up. Hannah drew herself in, brow furrowed as she considered several possible responses. Cheshire looked for Jakub’s reaction only realize he’d hung back in the doorway, and he wouldn’t be able to see without turning clear around. “Sir,” he said carefully. “I don’t want to speak for the others, but….”

“Can’t let this chance go by,” Kasper said, his words slurred despite the force he was putting into them. “We end Foley now. I want their boss dead. Tonight. Understand?”

“We understand,” said Barney, and he shot Cheshire a hard, triumphant look as he snatched his revolver back. “Let’s go. I’ll round up the rest of the boys.”

Hannah started to say something, but a look at Kasper relaxing back into the headboard changed her mind. With a shake of her head she stood and headed to the door. “Help me with this, Jakub,” she said, and Cheshire finally turned, but he didn’t catch a glimpse at Jakub’s face as the two of them left together. As Burke stood to leave as well, Cheshire looked to Kasper one more time.

“Sir, I’m really drunk,” he said.

“So?” Kasper waved his good hand at him dismissively. “Go blow them up. It’s why you’re here.”

Cheshire grimaced, but there didn’t seem to be any point in arguing further. When Burke gave his elbow a tap, he nodded and followed him into the side office, where Jakub was pulling a medical case out of the cabinet.

“Geez, Eggy, what’d you say to him?” Cheshire asked. He could already hear Barney out in the hall rallying his troops. “This is exactly what we were trying to talk Barney out of doing.”

“Sorry, I’m doing ye a favor, amn’t I?” said Burke with a shrug. He took a box of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and pulled one out with his teeth. “Light, please.”

Cheshire made a face at him to hide his honest hesitation. Doesn’t count, he thought, even though there was no reason to think that it would. He lit the cigarette with a snap of his fingers. “I’m drunk,” he said yet again. “Jake’s drunk, Hannah’s drunk—”

“I’m not drunk,” said Hannah from behind the desk, ripping her sleeve open around the wound on her arm. “I’m pissed off.”

“That might be an asset but otherwise we’re kind of fucked, here.”

Burke sighed for longer than was necessary. “Sounding like the Foleys wasted their time coming here at all, seeing as ye’ve gone through all’a that whiskey already. Not that I’m blaming ye, it’s quality home country shite. Not at all great for business, though, is it?”

Cheshire laughed, but when he looked to Hannah and Jakub, he couldn’t help but wince at the sour expressions they were fixing on their new compatriot. “Did you put them up to it?” Hannah even asked, holding out her arm for Jakub to wipe clean.

“Would I’ve had to? Didn’t ye’all take it directly from them?”

“Eggy is on our side,” said Cheshire. “He didn’t have to come warn us, after all.”

“And it’s my arse in the river if ye don’t go through with it,” Burke added. “By now Boss Foley will notice I’m gone—I’m after being useful to ye among them.” He took a breath off his cigarette, and the way his gaze flicked away reminded Cheshire of how they had met, early in the morning at Edith’s café. His fingers had trembled around his cigarette when he leaned in to whisper the details of the Tighe’s secret business arrangements. “The plan tonight was to retreat to the old Rooly sheet metal plant if things went to hell. By tomorrow they’ll’ve dispersed, gone under, and Charlie’ll have yer guts ‘round his neck next time you drop yer guard. If not tonight, ye’ll have a devil of a time finishing it later.”

Cheshire nodded reluctantly and looked to his peers. Hannah was as intensely thoughtful as he’d ever seen her, and after a considerable silence she rubbed her eyes. “It’s the boss’ orders anyway,” she said. “And Barney isn’t about to back off. If they’re at the plant that district will be mostly clear this time of night.”

“I’m not as bad off as I was making it sound,” Cheshire added, rubbing the back of his neck. “If it’s what we have to do, I’m in.”

They looked to Jakub, who was tying off a gauze wrap around Hannah’s arm. As he returned his full attention to the group Burke leaned back a little, and Cheshire couldn’t blame him—even to the well-practiced, Jakub’s gaze was a steely one. He eyed Burke and asked, “Are those my cigarettes?”

Burke fished the pack back out of his shirt pocket and edged closer, passing it off to Jakub’s outstretched hand as if trying to feed a mouse to a snake. For some reason it made Cheshire feel infinitely better about their collaboration. Jakub immediately pulled out a cigarette for himself and pocketed the rest, saying, “It’s the boss’s decision. Let’s go.”

“You can wait in my room if you want to wait and see how this plays out,” Cheshire said to Burke as they all headed into the hall. Barney had already moved his herd downstairs, and the four of them followed. “I snuck another bottle of the whiskey under the bed, just make sure there’s some for us when we get back.”

“Bloom,” Hannah said with exasperation, leading the way

“What? If we make it out of this, we’ll deserve it.”

“You just watch out for Boss Foley and his musket,” said Burke. “It may not look like much but it’s Hallorran made, packs a wicked punch.”

“More punch than me?” Cheshire teased, and Burke conceded with a dull-eyed smirk before ducking out on Cheshire’s floor.

By the time they reached the ground floor, Barney had a group of Kozlow loyalists gathered around the main entrance, loading their guns. He was giving some kind of speech about family that Cheshire was pretty sure he’d heard out of Kasper’s own mouth at some point. As Hannah moved to join them Jakub hung back, and went as far as to take Cheshire’s elbow to urge him to the same. He held up his cigarette. “Got a light?”

Cheshire did so without a thought. “Thanks for saving my ass earlier,” he said. “I thought Charlie was going to flatten me for sure.”

Jakub took a drag, watching Cheshire with that same indescribable expression of earlier. That pretty much ruled out the hug theory, didn’t it? “How are you really?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Cheshire replied automatically. “Really, I had a lot of coffee, and those headlights sure woke me up. I’m up to this.”

Jakub nodded, but he still looked intensely thoughtful. “I didn’t think we’d see you back here tonight,” he said after a pause. “Considering how you left.”

Cheshire fought not to wince at the taste of pecan pie at the back of his throat. “Yeah, well…it wasn’t anything important.” He shrugged and hoped Jakub wouldn’t see his stiffness. “I was in the diner across the street the whole time.”

Jakub frowned with what kind of looked like curiosity, and he kept smoking as Barney finished up his speech, searching and maybe speculating with his eyes. Cheshire’s stomach tightened, and he tried to think up some passable explanation for his awkward departure, but then Jakub only nodded again. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and he strode off toward the group. Feeling mystified, Cheshire followed.

The lot of them split up between the Szpilmans’ truck and Hannah’s four door. Cheshire and Jakub chose the truck, Cheshire’s intention being to avoid Barney where possible. This is a bad idea, he thought, even as he encouraged the others with tales of the Foleys and their ineptitude. Leon seemed exceptionally thankful for his humor. As they drew closer to their destination, Jakub leaned forward, and seeing him grow serious sobered the rest of them.

“We’re going in there for Boss Foley,” he said. “And Charlie Tighe, and whoever else loyal enough to make a stand. But if they really did spring Charlie out of prison to pull this stunt, the police will be out looking for him, and us, too. We’ll take who and what we can and get the hell back to Kozlow. No stalling and unnecessary risk.”

Everyone nodded, Jakub’s no-nonsense confidence the final nail in their determination. Even Cheshire felt his spirits emboldened. But by the time they had stopped and piled out of the truck into the chill night air, his enthusiasm faltered. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Charlie’s face might have looked behind the headlights, not unlike his sister disappearing behind a flash of fire. And Bunny, reassuring him that it didn’t matter. He could have singed Millie’s hair or rendered her to bloodstains and it might not make a difference at all.

“We’ve tangled with the Foleys plenty of times,” Cheshire said to Jakub as they headed over to where Barney was collecting the group. “But not like this. You ever do anything like this?”

“When we first joined up with the Fouchers,” said Jakub, staring straight ahead, “the deal rested on us clearing out their competition. It was like this, yeah.”

Cheshire watched him out of the corner of his eye. “How old were you?” he asked, but Jakub just shook his head.

As they gathered, another car with its lights out pulled up behind, and Cheshire tensed until he saw café owner Edith’s three tall daughters disembark. The boss must have called them in, Cheshire thought, offering a smile as they approached. Only the youngest smiled back.

“There’s twelve of us, so we’ll split up among the four exits,” Barney said, sounding very much like he was repeating whatever Hannah had advised him on during the drive over. “The south and west sides will go in first. North and east will hold back and catch anyone trying to get out. The plant will be mostly open and we don’t want to hit any of our own in a crossfire. Once we’ve got what we came for we’ll split up and find different ways back. Keep your heads so the cops don’t nab you, all right?”

“What’s the signal to go in?” asked one of Edith’s daughters, hefting her chopper to her shoulder.

Barney’s lip curled bitterly. “Bloom’s gonna blow something up for us. That ought’ll be noticeable enough, right?” He turned his disdainful glare on Cheshire. “Unless you’d rather just blow up the whole building at once and get it over with?”

He was just being an ass, and it probably wasn’t worth it to provoke him given the circumstances. It wasn’t. Still, Cheshire shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I mean, if you want. But wouldn’t you rather loot the place first?”

He earned more than a few raised eyebrows; everyone was suddenly very curious if he could live up to his implication, probably even wondering about the rumors surrounding the Foley bakery that Jakub had never bothered to clarify other than to Kasper himself. Their interest hardened Barney’s scowl further and Cheshire pretended not to notice that Hannah was killing him with her eyes because of it. “Just come with me to the south entrance,” Barney snapped. “You, too, Jakub. Everyone else group up and be quiet until we’re ready.”

The group split up, making their way down side streets in the shadows of various construction businesses closed for the night. Cheshire let Barney and Jakub go ahead of him, trying to convince himself that his nerves would settle by the time they reached the Foleys. There was no reason to worry no matter how many Foleys or Tighes were holed up in the plant when all he needed was a glance to end them. It would be easier than trying to blow a whole building, for sure. Bunny had all but given him permission. Whether or not it counted as part of their deal, it wouldn’t matter. If it didn’t matter to her, why would it matter to him?

He watched Jakub’s back and tried to remember if he’d been any smaller when they were younger, his shoulders narrower or bonier beneath the weight of his arm as they drank the evenings away. Hell of a time to be distracted by pointless musings.

Jakub grabbed Barney’s arm and tugged him to the side of the nearest building; Cheshire immediately followed. It took him a moment to spot the Foley lookout that had alerted him: just an arm and shoulder visible around the corner of the next building, a pistol in their grip. After exchanging glances, Barney pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and handed it to Jakub, who motioned for them to stay put as he crept forward. Cheshire held his breath. He watched, almost unblinking, as Jakub approached the guard soundlessly and put the knife in his throat.

The death wasn’t nearly as soundless as the attack— the Foley hissed and gurgled as Jakub guided the body to the ground. Cheshire was convinced someone had heard. But after a tense moment of waiting nothing else stirred, and he and Barney rejoined Jakub at the corner.

“Good work,” said Barney, the moon peeking out of the clouds highlighting the sweat on his forehead and neck. He took the lead again down the next street.

Cheshire kept up better as they continued, casting quick glances at Jakub’s face. He looked serious and undisturbed, and when he caught Cheshire looking, he whispered, “Are you all right?”

“Of course,” Cheshire replied just as quietly. “Are you?”

Jakub frowned at him. He wiped the blood from his hand on his pant leg. “They were going to do the same to us, Chesh.”

“I know—I said I’m fine.”

“Shut up,” Barney hissed at them over his shoulder. “It’s just ahead.”

Cheshire clapped his mouth shut, staying close to Jakub’s side as they crossed the final street to put them opposite the Rooly plant.

They waited a few minutes to make sure the others had had time to get into position, listening to a hiss of voices floating from an open window. Someone that might have been Charlie was groaning and shouting while others tried to shush him. Cheshire listened as long as he could, his palms itching, and finally turned to Barney. “So what’s it going to be? Am I up?”

Barney was starting to look nauseated, but his eyes were still hard with his father’s determination, and he waved for Cheshire to get closer. “Take out as many as you can at once,” he said. “We’re behind you.”

“Aye, boss.” Cheshire glanced to Jakub, letting his familiar, stony expression give him the rest of the confidence he needed. “Wish me luck,” he said, and Jakub nodded, urging him on.

Cheshire crept across the alley, eyeing the roof and fire exits in case there were more lookouts nearby. Once pressed against the wall he edged to the open window to put his ear close. It was definitely Charlie Tighe making all the fuss inside, and when he risked peeking inside, he spotted the man laid out on one of the work tables. He was stripped to the waist and surrounded by his peers, who were dressing a wound in his right shoulder. Jakub must have hit him when he was trying to run me over, Cheshire thought with a smirk. But his stomach was roiling and he wasn’t able to keep hold of his good humor. There were at least half a dozen gathered around, another on a far staircase heading to the open upper floor, where the manager’s office sat at the north end. There may have been others, too, hidden from him by the angle of the window. Though the plant itself was tall and mostly open, huge machines stood in a pair of rows along its length, making for all sorts of points of cover. There was no clear path forward.

If they scatter, a shootout will last all night, Cheshire thought, scanning each of his opponents. He eyed the machinery, but each was bulky and complicated, lit only by a few bare-bulb lamps brought by the Foleys, and he couldn’t draw a complete picture of any of them in his mind. He didn’t have any confidence in being able to blow them without getting closer.

Could I kill them all? Cheshire recognized a few of Foley’s toughs, but not all, and they were all crowded together and jostling. That would be the safest for everyone. He clenched his fists until they ached. They wouldn’t even feel a thing. Would they? He began to sweat. Or would they?

One of the men turned toward him. He couldn’t tell immediately if he’d been spotted, but the flash of the man’s eyes in the lamp light lit a fuse in the tension that had been building behind his ribs. In the short time he had to decide, all he could make out clearly was the man’s broad-brimmed hat, and in a flash it exploded.

The man dropped before he could scream. His companions reared back, shouting and swearing, reaching for the guns they’d strewn across the table while dealing with Charlie. One was a particularly gruesome-looking rifle, and without thinking Cheshire tried to light it up. He only managed the stock, but it splintered and burned in such spectacular fashion that its owner was left doubled over and shrieking.

Charlie dove from the table. The rest scattered for cover, but by then Edith’s daughters had gone to work with their machine guns, picking off two before they could determine where the attack was coming from. Cheshire jumped at a sound to his left only to realize it was Barney and Jakub bursting through the southside door. Gunfire roared from all directions and everything was moving too fast.

It doesn’t matter Cheshire told himself as he followed Jakub in. They’re all dead anyway and Bunny told me not to worry. But when a Foley leaned out from behind one of the industrial presses, revolver aimed, Cheshire targeted the gun. It exploded in his hand just like Millie’s, but then he blew a sledgehammer leaning against the presses just to be sure. The man disappeared, cursing shrilly, in a cloud of smoke. With as much focus and detachment as he could muster he charged down the line behind his partner, bursting chaos on the surrounding gangsters until the entire interior was thick with smoke. His palms bristled with heat and for a brief moment he couldn’t remember why he’d ever welcomed Bunny into him in the first place.

Something exploded behind Cheshire he wasn’t responsible for, and he turned, spotting Edith’s daughters diving for cover beneath a hail of ash. For an instant he thought there was another like him, and he felt a rush of heat all over, as if at any moment he’d know for certain what it felt like to have a demon’s magic rip him apart. But then Hannah’s voice drew his attention forward again, and he spotted a figure up on the catwalk. It was a hunched figure of an old man bracing a long- barreled rifle on the railing, lining up another shot.

Boss Foley and the Hallorran musket—Cheshire could have kicked himself for forgetting Burke’s warning. The angle was too poor for him to make out the gun at that distance, and he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the only viable option. But before he could focus, a blow to his shoulders sent him stumbling, his glasses falling, and Charlie leapt onto his back.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Charlie screamed, and he swung his arm forward, a knife gleaming in the fire light.

Cheshire threw his hand up. Charlie was clumsy with his left but his furious momentum overpowered the odd-angled defensive grip on his wrist, and Cheshire felt the blade slice into his face. He couldn’t even be sure where, at first; everything was already hot and stinging, the rush of blood as heavy in his ears as on his skin. In a panic he pushed back, tried to turn away, the knife biting up into his cheek. The plant smeared and he thought of Shane Foley pressed up against his back in the alley, a cascade of gore, and the sick exhilaration of Bunny’s ancient name branding itself across his palms and eyes. At any moment the blade would find his throat, and he’d finally know how well his sleepless nights imagining Hell matched the real thing.

With the report of a gun Charlie was flung backward, raking his knife through Cheshire’s ear as he tumbled to the ground. With everything so dark and blazing at once Cheshire wasn’t sure the attack had even ended, and he stumbled back in a rough retreat until his shoulder hit the wall. Is this it? he thought as he pressed his hand to his face. He couldn’t tell if it was agonizing or numb let alone how bad it was, and he had visions of his neck torn open, bleeding him out. Does this count, Bunny?

“Cheshire!” Jakub took his shoulders, pushing him flush to the wall to steady him. “Let me see.”

“I’m all right,” Cheshire said dumbly, even though he was shaking as he gripped Jakub’s collar.

“Let me see,” Jakub insisted, peeling Cheshire’s hand away from his face. His probing touch asserted agony over numb after all, and Cheshire swayed nauseously. “You’re not all right,” Jakub said, swiping at the blood dribbling down his neck. “But it could be worse.” He pressed Cheshire’s palm over the wound again.

Cheshire grimaced at the taste of blood in his mouth, which only made it hurt more. “I’m not dead?”

“No. No, of course not. You’re all right.” Jakub reached into Cheshire’s vest pocket and found his spare handkerchief, which he slipped between his hand and his face. “You’re all right,” he said again. “Just hold that and stay put.”

He moved away, and a moment later Cheshire felt him slip his glasses into his vest pocket, then was gone again. Cheshire kept the handkerchief to his face as he squinted into the blur of smoke and splotchy light. The sounds of gunfire had died down, and he heard one final plea for mercy before a final shot drew the conflict to a close. He strained his ears for a while after, listening to muddled conversations between his comrades, until Barney’s voice rose above the rest.

“Bloom!” he was shouting, and a moment later Cheshire felt Jakub at his side again. “Where is he? Get him over here!”

“Coming!” Cheshire shouted back without thinking, only to wince loudly at the pull on his injured cheek. “Shit, that stings!”

Jakub helped him to step away from the wall. “Can you walk?” he asked.

“Well sure! It’s not my feet.” Even so he let Jakub lead him by the elbow through the plant. Stop talking, he told himself as he fumbled his glasses on, askew thanks to his covered ear. You’re making it worse. “Did we get them all? Is everyone all right?”

“We did all right,” said Jakub, taking him up the stairs toward the manager’s office.

Barney was waiting for them at the top. “Bloom!” he said, scolding. “There you are.” He was sweaty and wild-eyed but all in one piece, and when he saw Cheshire, he let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Shit, what happened to you?”

“I gave Charlie a free shot to avenge his sister,” replied Cheshire with half a shrug. “Y’know. Honorable.”

“Stupid,” Barney said, and he laughed again. It was strange and off-putting to see him in good spirits. “Come on, make yourself useful.”

He headed into the office, and Cheshire followed, stepping over the prone body of Boss Foley in the doorway.

“There,” said Barney, pointing to a five foot tall safe in the corner of the office. It was black and glossy with the familiar, round Hallorran emblem etched in the side. “Your specialty, right?”

“Right.” Cheshire took a deep breath and felt as if he were drawing coals into his lungs. The office was clearer than the rest of the plant, but the edges on everything were still shaky in his sight, his head throbbing. Trying to hide his brief lapse, he looked to Jakub. “We met over a Steel Gremlin like this. Remember?”

“I remember,” said Jakub. He was soot-stained like the rest of them but he wasn’t hurt, to Cheshire’s great relief. “But you don’t have to—”

“No, I got it. Stand back.”

The rest of the gang was sneaking closer, and Hannah motioned them back, leaving a clear line from the safe door. Somehow, the attention helped settle Cheshire’s nerves, and with a wave of his hand the door of the Gremlin burst off its hinges with a percussive blast. It cracked Boss Foley’s desk nearly in half with the impact and everyone cheered.

“Grab everything and let’s go!” Barney ordered as three of them hurried forward to claim the loot. “The cops will be on our asses soon!” He stooped down, relieving Boss Foley of his pocket watch as a trophy before heading down the stairs.

“That was incredible!” Leon exclaimed as he clapped Cheshire on the back. He grinned through his bloody nose. “Boom Boom Bloom does it again!”

“Don’t call him that,” Hannah chided, but everyone was already laughing and congratulating each other, and Cheshire wasn’t about to discourage it.

“We lost Viktor,” Jakub told him once they were all on their way out of the plant. “And Gertie took a shot to the leg, but she’ll be all right. Two or three Foleys got away but I doubt we have to worry about them, after what they saw tonight.”

Cheshire glanced to the work table where it had all started, and the pile of bodies surrounding it, including one with his scalp blistered clear off. “Yeah. Sure.” He turned away again. “Who got the boss?”

“Barney did.” Jakub gave a short sigh. “I’m sure you’ll be hearing about it for a while.”

“Well, good on him.”

“If only he could have done it without hitting the the rifle first….”

They reached the door they’d come in from, but there Cheshire paused, turning to look one more time into the plant. He imagined Detective Alice and his officers combing the scene, covering the bodies, tagging evidence. Maybe he would expect to find great stains of blood across the floor instead of charred faces and hands. The thought of Alice’s speculation made him sick, and on impulse he narrowed his eyes on the work table, exploding it into flaming debris.

Jakub startled beside him. “Chesh?”

The equipment was still far beyond Cheshire’s ability to concentrate on, but he made do: He put a fire in the drums and lockers, the tables and vats. Everything he could define he destroyed, until the dying fires roared to life and spread down the rows in great plumes of flame. The seals on his palms stung eagerly with every shred of material consumed, and when it finally looked as if the fires would fuel each other until the death of the building, he retreated with Jakub close behind.

Barney and the others had stopped to stare, wide-eyed as even more black smoke billowed out from the windows and stacks. “What the hell was that for?” Barney demanded.

“Wherever the missing Foleys are, they should see it,” said Cheshire. “And everyone in Brooklyn.” He lowered his handkerchief, and a few of them flinched back at the gruesome state of his face. “They might as well know we won. Right?”

Barney eyed him warily, but then he nodded. “Kozlow won,” he emphasized, which Cheshire acknowledged with an incline of his head. Then he turned and pushed the nearest of them onward. “C’mon, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Cheshire took a deep breath. He tried to look back at the building, but by then Jakub was pushing the handkerchief back to his face. “Keep that covered,” Jakub instructed. “It needs stitches.”

“Okay,” said Cheshire, and he moved to Jakub’s other side so he could throw his arm around his shoulders, faking like he needed the support to the truck. He could feel the heat against his back the whole way.

***

By the time they arrived back at Kozlow’s building, a great deal more of the tenants had been roused—between the celebrations, the gunshots, and the firetrucks clanging eastward, everyone was curious for a full version of the story. Jakub did his best to herd Cheshire into the elevator straight away, only to find when they disembarked on Cheshire’s floor that the most curious had simply followed up the stairs. There was a great deal of wincing and cooing over the state of Cheshire’s face that he was far too eager to receive, and despite Jakub’s protests, he invited everyone into his apartment for another round of storytelling.

Burke went a little green at the sight of the blood as he let them in. “Bloody hell, yer face,” he said, cringing behind his hand. “Ye’ll be wanting that drink, I expect.”

“Yes!” Cheshire crowed, despite Jakub saying, “No!” at the same time. It was no surprise who won out.

So Cheshire took the bed again, and Jakub quickly inserted himself beside. He had no idea how Cheshire could laugh and smirk with a flap of his cheek threatening to fall open every time he removed his hand to gesture. Seeing him slump against the factory wall, dazed and disoriented, had been trying enough; Cheshire’s grinning apathy to his own wounded state was worse, and Jakub shook, ill from the stresses of the night.

Thankfully, after having disappeared with Barney to go make their reports to the boss, Hannah reappeared a while later with a first aid kit. “You need stitches,” she told Cheshire firmly, with such authority that the room ducked their heads as if she were scolding them all. She took a handful of pins from her hair to tuck his bangs away from the wound. “Anyone who doesn’t want to watch should leave.”

“They can watch,” said Cheshire, and it became a gruesome spectacle, full of muttering and ooh-ing and shouts of disgust as Hannah kept him still enough for the bare minimum of stitches. Burke faced the wall the whole time, drinking. Jakub stayed close, squeezing Cheshire’s hand so that the assembly wouldn’t see it shaking.

“You should all go to bed,” Hannah declared once she was finished, but by then they were already fawning over Cheshire for his bravery, and with a sigh she gave up. Instead she tugged Jakub with her into the hall.

“That’s going to need a better cleaning,” she told him, scraping her bloodied hands across her shirt. “Make sure it’s covered up properly once he finally passes out, the fool.”

“Thanks, Hannah,” Jakub replied, and he must have let more of his concern slip than he’d intended, because she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before moving on.

Back inside the apartment, the two Szpilmans that had joined them in the raid had dragged the coffee table close to the bed and were turning the safe loot out of their pockets for Cheshire’s approval. “As far as I’m concerned, this is all Bloom’s,” said Leon, beaming as always. “You should have seen him! Hell, if only they could put it in the paper.”

Cheshire, who had been trying to sneak a gulp of whiskey into the right side of his mouth, gave a sputtering cough. “The paper! Don’t get any ideas!”

“‘Boom Boom Bloom Wipes Floor With Foley,’” he quoted, chuckling to himself. “Front page.”

“Well….” Cheshire grinned modestly, but when he noticed Jakub returning, his expression tightened briefly with guilt. “No thanks, I didn’t do all that much,” he finished. “Barney’s the one that offed Foley.”

“Sure, sure, we know.”

A chuckle mumbled through the group, as if everyone was sharing a secret they were afraid of being caught with. It made Jakub itch. He joined the Szpilmans as Cheshire launched into a new story, devoting himself to counting cash and bearer bonds to keep from staring at the blood staining Cheshire’s collar. They’ll all have to leave sooner or later, Jakub thought, watching the whiskey get passed around. I can’t leave him alone before then.

But as it turned out, they didn’t. A few of Cheshire’s guests passed straight out on the sofa and chairs, while the rest seemed determined to continue until morning. Jakub might have inserted himself back at Cheshire’s side and demanded giving him the treatment he certainly needed, just so he could finally get some sleep himself, but a strange look from Cheshire changed his plans. It very nearly resembled a sheepish cry for help.

Jakub packed the spoils away in a cabinet and then returned for Cheshire to take his hands. “Come on,” he said, tugging him upright. “Let’s get you cleaned up for real.”

Cheshire stood, and when he swayed on his feet Jakub braced himself, but then he managed to find his balance. Jakub got the distinct impression that the next time he went down, he’d be down until morning or later. “Tell everyone goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight everyone!” Cheshire received a chorus of sleepy responses, but after taking a step he paused, glancing around. “Wait—where’s my coat?”

Jakub flinched, and then again when Burke said, “It was lying on the bed here. I put it in the garment bag.”

“Oh! Thanks.” Cheshire gave him a salute and finally allowed Jakub to herd him outside. “Goodnight!”

They took the elevator up, and by the time they were crossing the hall to Jakub’s room, Cheshire was leaning heavily against his side. It put him at ease to think that soon this long night would be over, even if there would be plenty to worry about come morning. He let them inside and guided Cheshire to the sofa. “Relax,” he said as he wet a cloth rag at the sink. “I just want to clean you up a bit before you pass out.”

Cheshire stretched out. “Is it bad?” he asked, still half smiling from the drink, but with a definite concern finally creeping in. He chuckled weakly. “Is it really gross? Or kind of manly?”

“A bit of both,” Jakub replied, caught between not wanting to encourage or distress him. He dug an armful of medical supplies out of his drawer and pushed a stool closer to the sofa with his foot. “You probably don’t want to show Grace until it’s healed up.”

“Ha! Yeah….” He relaxed into the sofa arm and tried to keep still as Jakub joined him. “That was…really something, huh?” he said, pulling off his bloodstained gloves. “What a night.”

“What a night.” Away from the bustle of the rest of the gang, the quiet was starting to get to him, along with a slew of “what if” scenarios he didn’t want to risk thinking about. He did his best to mop up the rest of the blood on Cheshire’s jaw and neck, then applied a few dabs of anesthetic. Listening to Cheshire hiss made his lungs feel tight. “You haven’t had to do anything like that for Kozlow before,” he said, almost apologetically.

“Yeah! Not like you. You were incredible.” Cheshire looked to him and his expression changed—crumbled a little, in a way Jakub hadn’t seen before. “Thank God for you, Jakub,” he said with a wincing smile. “I thought I was really done for this time.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jakub dedicated his focus to applying strips of gauze to Cheshire’s cheek. He didn’t want to think about how Cheshire had looked at the plant, bloodied and shocked in that moment of panic. He wanted Cheshire to think about it even less. “He barely touched you.”

“I really mean it,” Cheshire insisted, a frailty in his humor that shouldn’t have been there. “I saw the bright light and everything.”

“That was just the explosions.”

Jakub did what he could as far as dressing Cheshire’s face, and then came to his ear: the knife being wrenched back as he shot Charlie dead had ripped a slice clear through it, leaving a separation in the cartilage no amount of stitching was likely to repair. He wrapped a small piece of gauze around the wound just to keep it clean and covered until they could find him a trustworthy doctor to make a house call. He wanted to be furious at Barney for letting his brash inexperience make its mark on Cheshire so gruesomely, but some other, more troubling emotion kept getting in the way.

“Hard to imagine ‘Boom Boom Bloom’ afraid of a dinner knife,” he said, hoping to goad him into better spirits. He turned away to replace the remaining gauze among the other supplies.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.”

Jakub stopped. A chill climbed his spine, and when he looked back, he didn’t know what to make of Cheshire’s dull, downcast eyes. Whatever excitement he’d carried through to his audience below, it had finally failed, and he looked exhausted, maybe even ashamed. Jakub had never seen him in such a state; it was as if the earth shifted queasily beneath his feet while looking at it.

Jakub leaned forward. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know. After.” Cheshire reached for his recently bandaged ear, poking gingerly. His normally sing-song voice was rough and distant. “I’ve done some things, you know?” he confessed. “I guess we all have. Things the folks upstairs wouldn’t look kindly on.”

Curiosity pounded like a drum in Jakub’s stomach, but he didn’t dare interrupt to question. “I just wanted to be a little more than I was, yeah?” Cheshire continued, gazing into the far corners of Jakub’s apartment where maybe some memory was playing back for him like a film reel. “Have a little more than I had.”

Cheshire finally looked to Jakub, who was stunned to see tears catching in his eyelashes. “I just wanted to matter,” he said, each word stinging in Jakub’s chest. “At all. To anyone. You know?”

Jakub stared back at him, stunned. For years he had watched Cheshire make a spectacle of himself among their ranks, effortlessly gaining praise and ire sometimes in equal measure. Uncertainty had never been part of that equation, and seeing it in him then shook Jakub deeply. All the time they had spent together, and he had never suspected Cheshire of hiding anything, let alone echoes of a yearning he, too, had long tried to squash in himself. How had he never seen it before? He wilted with the notion that maybe the attraction he had harbored with such self-indulgent suffering was a shallow thing after all.

“You must be damn drunk,” Jakub said, still trying to untangle from his confusion. “This isn’t like you.”

“Yeah. No kidding.” Cheshire must have realized then how he looked, because he quickly tried to wipe his eyes. When he looked back up he was even smiling again. “Sorry.”

And Jakub hated that. Hated the idea that Cheshire had been hiding behind that smile for a long time, even from him, without him ever knowing. Hated having to realize that Cheshire had always welcomed him, even tried to support him in his own clumsy way, while he had no idea that his outgoing, seemingly invincible friend might have needed him for something in return, let alone how to provide it. If only he was bolder himself he might have found a way to tuck the poor oaf under his arm. “Hey.” Whatever mess his own emotions were, the last thing Jakub wanted was for Cheshire to see him struggle, or worse, to think his sincerity wasn’t being heard. “You don’t have to worry about any of that now,” he said, no other option than to be as bluntly reassuring as possible. “Nothing’s going to happen while I have your back. Haven’t I always?”

Cheshire searched his face. His eyes were almost clinging, and Jakub’s palms went clammy as he wondered how he looked from the outside. But then Cheshire relaxed, his smile easing from strained into relieved and raw. “…Yeah,” he said. “You have.”

He reached out, and Jakub went still all over again at the wide, warm palm cupping his cheek. His fingertips were softer than expected, and he could feel the faint imprints of the seal branded on his skin, as if it was still charged from a night of overuse. The heat of it fanned out all through him and he couldn’t move.

“Thanks,” said Cheshire, so openly honest that it made Jakub’s heart pound. “That means a lot to me….”

His hand started to slip, and instinctually Jakub’s own snapped to it, keeping it in place. Cheshire’s earnest gratitude was hard to look at, but he wasn’t ready to let go of that simple, physical affection too soon. Tell him, he thought, the words welling in his throat as he glared at his feet for courage. You know what he wants to hear, now. Why should it be so hard to say it?

Jakub licked his lips, and with a deep breath he lifted his head. “Cheshire, you—”

But Cheshire had slumped deeper into the sofa, chin resting against his chest, asleep.

Jakub let his breath out: disappointed, relieved, embarrassed about being relieved. But at least Cheshire’s quiet snoring sounded peaceful, and he hoped that he’d managed to take comfort from his attempts at reassurance. He turned his face to Cheshire’s palm a little while longer, as if he could convey through that touch a portion of the words he hadn’t been able to speak. Rather than feel sorry for himself, it filled him with a buoyant and exciting kind of hope, to think there was still so much more to Cheshire than he’d known, and that he still had the chance to uncover it.

Jakub stood, settling Cheshire’s hand back on his chest as he slept. Promising himself he could blame the whiskey later, he bent down and pressed a kiss to Cheshire’s forehead. “You matter to me,” he whispered, hoping that his conviction might ease into his subconscious. Maybe it would be enough until he gained the courage to confess it for real.

Not wanting to be too far away in case Cheshire roused during what remained of the night, Jakub curled up in a living room chair and fell asleep. His dreams were heavy and thick with ash, but by the time he awoke to light through his windows, he couldn’t remember them. Cheshire was still deeply asleep on the sofa, and as he was contemplating his options for the strange new day, there was a knock at the door. A glance through the peephole showed Hannah and Burke, and he let them in.

“I thought you might need some help with him,” Hannah said, keeping her voice down. She set a paper bag down on the coffee table and pulled out a carton of soup, a bottle of orange juice, some fresh gauze and pain medicine. “He’ll probably be in hell today.”

“Whiskey and head wounds,” Burke agreed. “Not the best combination.”

“Thanks,” said Jakub. His head was already pounding from his own hangover and too short sleep, so he helped himself to the medicine and then poured each of them a glass of water. They’d all slept in their clothes and looked terrible, but Jakub found himself uncharacteristically glad for the company as they stood in the kitchen together, waiting for the kettle to heat water for coffee.

“It’s in the papers already,” said Burke as he lit a cigarette. “Real careful about naming names, but everyone in Brooklyn already knows. Yer friend Alice is decidedly ‘no comment’ about the whole thing.”

Jakub watched him take a drag and then held out his hand. With a twitch of his nose, Burke obediently passed him the cig. “You weren’t here last night when Detective Alice ‘stopped by,’” he said. “How do you know about him and Cheshire?”

“He told me. Plus I heard half the story from the Tighes.” He looked surprised when Jakub handed the cigarette back, but he accepted as if it were a reward. “If this don’t get that book-stickler off his back, can’t imagine much will.”

“You don’t seem all upset about the Tighes,” Jakub noted, watching him closely. “Or the Foleys.”

He shrugged, and when Hannah held out her hand, he took one more breath on the cigarette and passed it to her. “They’re not my people, now.”

“Burke is staying on with Kozlow,” said Hannah. “The boss wants him set up in your old apartment.” She eyed Burke as she blew a ring of smoke. “Though I’d still very much like to know why you turned against Foley in the first place.”

“I explained all that to the boss already,” Burke replied, but beneath Hannah and Jakub’s heavy stares, he quickly surrendered. “I know what ye’re thinking of me. A coward traitor, isn’t he? Can’t say it ain’t the truth.” He glanced away, and Jakub found it oddly fascinating how different it was seeing him wrestle with honesty, compared to Cheshire the night before—his brow pinching and nose wrinkling as if having to cough it up physically. “Guess ye’d say I never felt like I was safe with them,” he said at last. “Couldn’t trust them at all more than they trusted me. Same Irish blood be damned. They’ve been falling apart for a long while now, bunch’a angry stooks pointing fingers. And I’s always on the other end. Long before they were right.”

Hannah offered him the cigarette back, and he took it, gratitude loosening him further. “Yer man Bloom there,” he said, cocking his head. “Can’t say I understand it, but he felt like the safer option, at the time. They don’t make many like him.” He scoffed. “And then’e gets himself fucked over. Look’t him. Making me look a fool.”

Hannah made a sympathetic face, but Jakub swelled with overprotective instinct, and he said, “No, you were right to trust him. He’s still the safer option.”

Burke nodded as the tension unfurled from his brow; unlike Hannah, he had no idea how unusual the declaration was, coming from Jakub. He offered the cig back one more time, but Jakub let him keep it. It worked just as well as a handshake.

A groan came from the sofa, and the three of them turned just as Cheshire began to stir. He floundered weakly and grumbled unintelligible curses before slapping both hands to his mouth.

“I’ve got it,” Hannah said, and with a sigh she grabbed up Jakub’s trash pail to drag over. She even held his hair back as he puked, grimacing around his wounded face.

“Fuck,” Cheshire whimpered, staring bleary-eyed into the room. “What happened to my face?” It was going to be a very long day.

“Whiskey, and head wounds,” said Burke knowingly.

“I’ll finish with the coffee.”

Jakub poured a fresh glass of water and joined Hannah. When Cheshire accepted the offering, he smiled—he had to have been in five kinds of agony but he did smile, happy to see Jakub looking after him. Jakub only managed a flutter of the same, but it seemed to mean the world to Cheshire, and he happily surrendered to their care.

It was a very long day. But Jakub didn’t mind at all.