In Which Kevin Jonas Finds A New Job And, Unrelatedly, A Calling
A lot of things happened to Kevin without him intending. He didn't set out to be a streetwalker; he'd been clearing glasses at some hole of an alehouse for pennies and as many scraps as he could steal, and sometime a customer would flash some coin and make a suggestion that made Kevin's cheeks flush. But as the weeks wore on, and Nick got skinner and Frankie grew pasty and fretful, the blush faded as the coins became more tempting.
He'd staggered out into the stableyard behind the alehouse after, and thrown up behind the manure pile. But the coins were heavy in his pocket, and the bread and blankets they bought saved them for another night.
His father had always said that practice makes perfect; in this case, it just made things easier. He learned the tricks of his new trade, and avoiding using the word for it where his brothers could hear.
After a while, Kevin couldn't remember any other life, and never tried to. Months turned into years, honing the edge to the mask he wore as he stood on his corner or against the bar of the alehouse, looking for his next client.
The winter closed in hard and fast. Even the zeppelins that normally crowded above the docks thinned out as the wind blew, hard and cruel from the north. The crowds on the streets thinned and Kevin's spot in the alehouse needed defending from the latest young innocent lured by the promise of easy coin.
Their hungry eyes preyed on his mind as he watched his latest client fasten his pants and walk off towards the streets. He slipped out of the shadows, shivering as the cold air hit exposed skin. There was a thin skin of ice on the waterbutt, and Kevin smashed it with his fist, using the ladle to scoop up a mouthful. It was so cold it burned, and Kevin swilled and spat onto the snow quickly.
He turned towards the warm and profitable crowds of the alehouse, barely making it two steps when he heard a faint whimper coming from behind the stables. The sounds of the bar were tempting, but it sounded like a dog in pain - the landlord was fond of his pups, and saving his dog might earn Kevin a favour later on.
Kevin turned the corner slowly, not wanting to scare the animal. He froze, soundless and motionless.
One of the young new kids was sprawled on the ground, naked from the waist down. The splashes of blood were bright on the snow. A gentleman was standing over him, raising his riding crop to strike another blow.
The kid whimpered in pain, his hand shaking as it came up in a futile attempt to ward off the blow.
Kevin moved, dropping his shoulder as he drove into the gent at waist height, forcing him into the side of the stables. The gents dress shoes scrabbled uselessly on the ice, and on the other side of the wall, the horses whinnied.
"Why, you impertinent!" The gent roared, raising his crop to strike.
Kevin didn't think. He bunched his fists and struck first. The dam burst, and Kevin pounded the gent, his blood spraying from his broken nose, drenching his fine shirt and brocaded jacket. Kevin kept hitting, silent but for the sound of skin on skin.
A whimper penetrated, and Kevin stopped, breathing hard. The gent was barely conscious, his head lolling weakly, his face a mess. Kevin tugged open his jacket and pulled out the bag of coin. "Here," he said, tossing it to the kid who had managed to crawl to his knees. "Buy passage, join a ship, I don't care. Just leave town and never come back."
The kid nodded, holding his pants up with one hand as he staggered to his feet and out the back gate.
"Kevin?" He looked up as Ryan Ross came around the corner, breathing a curse as he took in the beaten man, the blood on Kevin's fists. "Oh." Ryan's eyes hardened. "I know him, Phereson. He likes them young and docile." His eyes flickered to the whip that had dropped to the ground, and nodded. "Get out of here, you've gone with a gent for a special service. I'll raise the alarm. He got money?"
Kevin shrugged. "Not any more."
Ryan nodded. "Mugging, then. Go on, get. And don't come back til your hands heal."
Kevin turned and walked out the gate. His heart was still pounding, but he didn't feel shamed.
He felt...exhilarated.