Olivia Twist(51)

As they turned onto the Strand, Jack blurted, “I killed a man once.” The words overlapped and rushed out of him as if he could no longer take the pressure of keeping them inside.

Olivia nearly tripped over his confession. Only when she was sure she could conceal her shock did she venture a glance at his face. His eyes darted to hers and then away. When several seconds passed and he didn’t elaborate, Olivia decided a bit of prompting couldn’t hurt. She swallowed and endeavored to sound blasé, as if people confessed murder to her every other day. “What happened?”

After tucking his trusty umbrella under his arm, he pushed the hat back on his head then ran a hand over his face. “It was a few years after you went to live with your uncle. I was leading my own gang by then, and one of the boys disappeared. Daniel. He was the youngest of the group, around Chip’s age. His mother had died, leaving him with an opium-addicted father who threatened to sell him at every turn. One day the father followed through on the threat, and Daniel ran. That’s when I found him sleeping in the street.” Jack paused and tugged the hat low over his eyes, his jaw set in a grim line. “Daniel had been with us a few months when he didn’t return from picking. None of the other kids saw where he went, but I knew. Somehow I knew his father had found him.”

Jack’s stride slowed, and his next words seemed to scratch through his throat. “I made inquiries, and the clues led me to a brothel in Seven Dials.”

Olivia sucked in an involuntary breath. Seven Dials was the point where seven crooked streets, narrow alleys, and obscure lanes met in an irregular square. But beyond its seemingly innocuous architecture, the district’s heart was rotten to the core. If one sought to gorge himself on the most debased vices imaginable, Seven Dials more than fed their needs. But for an unprotected child, or even a street-wise young adult . . .

Olivia shivered so hard that Brom whined and butted her hand with his furry head. She clamped her fingers on Jack’s arm. “Please tell me you did not go there alone.”

He finally looked at her, his eyes unreadable in the shadowed street. “What would you have done?”

“Not go alone!”

Jack shoved his hands in his pants pockets and stared at his feet, kicking a pebble down the dark sidewalk. “When I reached the Dials, the brothel was heavily guarded. So, I snuck in through a broken window at the back of a public house two doors down, crossed the eaves, and entered through the attic. After reaching the second-floor hallway and picking lock after lock, I’d gotten an eyeful of flesh, but no Daniel.”

Olivia was beginning to dread where the story was headed, but she kept her mouth shut. Jack obviously needed to get this off his chest. And she was honored, and not a little astonished, that he’d chosen to bare his soul to her.

“I’d reached the final door before the staircase, and as I jimmied the lock I heard heavy footfalls approaching. I slipped through the door. But instead of another bedroom, I found a staircase that I followed to a secluded third-floor chamber.” Jack paused and drew a heavy breath before continuing. “Instinct prodded me to pick the lock quickly. I slammed into the room and found Daniel gagged and bound, a man flogging him with a whip.”

Tendrils of horror wrapped themselves around Olivia’s heart and squeezed. She didn’t want to hear any more. Yet, she remained silent.

Jack stared ahead, his next words coming out in a rush. “It sounds crazy, but it was as if a red veil fell over my eyes and I lost control of my own actions. Like a wild animal, I tackled the man and began beating him. I got several good hits in before he turned on me and banged my head against the floor. He pulled a gun and shot, but I managed to dodge the bullet and . . . we scuffled again. The man had wrestled me to the floor. I managed to get away, and when I scrambled to my feet, he didn’t move again. My knife was buried in his chest.”

A crosswind blew the stench of the Thames across their path, curdling Olivia’s stomach with the combination of human waste and dead fish. She swallowed hard and squeezed Jack’s arm tighter, hoping to convey her understanding since she couldn’t find her voice.

“After it was over, I noticed the man’s fine clothes. He wasn’t some lowlife, Dials scum. I killed a toff.” Their eyes met and unshed tears hovered on Jack’s dark lashes.

Olivia stopped in a shadowy spot between streetlamps, pulled him into her arms, and held him tight. “Jack,” she said against his shoulder, “he may have been a gentleman, but he was the worst kind of human to have done that to a little boy. Just think of all the other children you likely saved from the same fate.”

“I know. But that doesn’t make it right,” he whispered.

She leaned back, and seeing that he’d regained control of his emotions, asked, “What happened to Daniel?”

“That’s the worst part.” The edges of his mouth pulled down and he shook his head. “I took him straight to a crow, but he’d lost too much blood. He didn’t make it. I didn’t save him in time.”

The tears Jack held in seemed to spill from Olivia’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She pressed her cheek against the warm skin of his neck and wept. She cried for Daniel. And she cried for the boy she’d known as Dodger, giving everything to protect others and losing himself along the way.

A squeak and crunch echoed down the street and Olivia felt Jack’s body tense. Still holding her in his arms, he turned. Swiping the tears from under her eyes, she squinted through the haze and could just make out a spectral figure pushing a cart in their direction.