“That’s it?”
“Eat it and shut yer potato ‘ole.”
He seemed to know enough not to argue. He bit into the plum, and for a time there was silence as they savored the fruit. But it was gone all too quickly. Jenny licked the juice from her fingers. “Wot was that ye were saying up there?” she asked. “Did ye make it up?”
“It was Shakespeare.”
“Shakes a spear?”
He laughed. “No. Shakespeare. He wrote plays. I was quoting one of his more famous ones.”
“I didn’t understand a word ye said.”
He leaned close to her, smelling of dirt, boy, and plum juice. “Can I tell you a secret?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
“I don’t understand it either.” He laughed, and his laugh was so infectious, she laughed too. And before long they were both laughing so hard tears streamed from their eyes. She leaned her head against his shoulder as she wiped away the tears, and he said, “I like you, Jenny Tate.”
And though she didn’t say it back, she liked Aidan Sterling too.
“WELL, WELL, WOT DO we ‘ave ‘ere?”
Aidan opened his eyes and looked up at a boy. The lad looked to be close to his own age of twelve, maybe a year older. Though Aidan had been running with Jenny for two months now and looked and smelled every day of those two months on the street, this boy was so dirty, Aidan doubted he’d ever seen a bathtub. His face was hard, his skin raw from dirt and the weather, and his clothes hung on his lanky frame like a scarecrow Aidan had seen once when he and his mother had traveled to a fair in Richmond.
Aidan pushed up on one elbow. Behind him, he felt Jenny push up too. She swore under her breath.
“We don’t have any food or blunt,” Aidan said, which was a lie. They had a little of both, but he’d risk injury and death to protect them. He had only three priorities these days—food, blunt, and Jenny. “You’re wasting your time with us.”
“I’ll decide that,” the boy said, his gaze flitting across the dim room. “Gideon!” he called over his shoulder. “I found something.”
“Let me do the talking,” Jenny said as another boy, this one a little older, taller, and better fed, stepped through the doorway. Jenny and Aidan had slept in this room for the past three nights. The building had once been some sort of shop, but it hadn’t had any residents other than rodents for years. There were other signs of occasional habitation, but those didn’t look recent. Aidan had just been happy to find a place to shelter from the frequent spring rainstorms, even if it meant sharing that space with rats.
Jenny always wanted to do the talking, and Aidan had no arguments in this case. She was better at lying than him and better at negotiating with boys like these, who were bent on doing them harm. When it came to negotiating with shopkeepers or businessmen for a quick job or blunt, that was when Aidan stepped in.
The boy called Gideon swept his eyes over them and looked decidedly unimpressed. “They’re just kids.”
“Satin is always looking for more cubs. Ye watch them while I fetch ‘im.”
“Sure,” Gideon said as the other boy hurried out. Gideon crossed his arms and leaned on the doorjamb. Jenny stood up.
“Wot gang are ye from?”
“Covent Garden Cubs.”
“Covent Garden? Wot are ye doing in this part of London?”
“We ‘ave places all over the city in case we need to lie low.”
“Listen,” Aidan said. “We don’t want any trouble. If this is your place, we’ll leave.”
Jenny elbowed him. “ ‘E won’t let us just leave. ‘Is arch rogue is coming. But it’s two against one.” She gave Gideon a menacing look.
Aidan stared at her to make certain she hadn’t gone insane overnight. This Gideon was much bigger than either of them. It had taken weeks for the swelling in Aidan’s face to go down. He didn’t relish another black eye.
“Ye might as well go,” Gideon said. “If ye don’t and Satin wants ye, there’s no getting away.”
“Ye’d risk a beating for us?”
Gideon shrugged. “Spry is the one who’s leading Satin ‘ere. ‘E’ll most likely get the beating. Now get out before I change me mind.”
Jenny grabbed Aidan’s arm and pulled him away. Aidan tried to shake the older lad’s hand to thank him, but he had to call out his thanks instead as Jenny yanked at him harder. Once outside, she released him but walked quickly until they reached the edge of the Spitalfields market. It was crowded with shoppers, and they would not be easy to find among the throngs of people. They ducked behind a cart and crouched down.
The next thing Aidan knew, her hand was around his throat. “What are you doing?” he croaked.
“Did ye think ye could make some extra blunt by selling me?” she asked, squeezing his throat harder.
“What?” Aidan wheezed.
“When did they approach ye? Yesterday when I went to the river or maybe it was a couple of days ago when I went to Mayfair?”
“I’ve never seen any of them before in my life.”
She squeezed harder, and Aidan grasped her hand and pried it away. She was stronger than she looked but then so was he now. “What’s wrong with you?” Aidan gasped, rubbing his throat. “We’re friends. Even if we weren’t, I wouldn’t sell a dog to those thugs.”
“How can I believe ye?” she asked, hands on hips.
“We made a deal,” Aidan said. “We shook on it.”
Jenny spat. “Those are just words.”
“Not to me.” Aidan stared at her. How could she say those were just words? A deal was a deal. “When I say something, I mean it. I thought you did too.”
Gingerly, he sat down behind the cart again. He didn’t know what had happened to her to make her so hard and suspicious. He didn’t think there was anything he could do to help her either. Two months of being by her side almost constantly, working together to survive, hadn’t convinced her. He lived in constant fear that she’d desert him, and he’d be alone again. Without Jenny, he’d starve. And worse than the fear of death was the fact that even though she’d given him no encouragement, he rather liked her. Underneath her hard outer shell, he suspected she was good and kind. He’d told himself not to get attached to anyone. He’d lost his mother, and he didn’t want the pain of losing anyone else. But he’d become fond of Jenny regardless.
So instead of walking away, he gave her yet another chance,
“I can’t make you trust me, but if we’re going to work together, you have to try a little.”
She didn’t speak, but she sat down beside him. “That was too close.”
Apparently, they were pretending she hadn’t just tried to kill him and going on as though everything were normal. Not that Aidan knew what normal was any longer. A quarter of a year ago, he’d been safe and cozy, living with his mother, attending school, eating when he was hungry. They hadn’t had much, but they’d always had enough.
When his father died, they’d had to do what his mother called economize. It meant no more sweets or new shoes, even though his hurt his toes and were too small. She said she would figure something out, and Aidan believed her. He never once doubted.