Update Link: Chain Reaction – Part 31
Hope everyone’s week is going well 🙂 My day is a little busy once I finish this up. The Phillies play early, and I have another vet appointment for my cat at 3. The Olympics have been really fun to follow, so that’s been getting a lot of my attention.
I’ll see you guys on Friday!
Written in 68 minutes. The cat and I had a disagreement about napping with her head on my number keys, lol, so it took a minute.
Harborview Towers: Security Suite
Jason watched the video again, studying every line of the image on the screen, looking for anywhere on Sonny’s body he could be hiding the gun—
But there was no bulge at his back where he might have tucked it, the trousers he wore had no strangely shaped pockets, and nothing was in his hands.
“I need to talk to Courtney,” Jason said. When Justus started shaking his head, Jason scowled. “Okay, then you need to talk to her. She was the first person to see him directly after he came back—she comes through the lobby maybe ten minutes after he gets here. She knows where she got the damned gun—”
“Why can’t Jason talk to Courtney?” Mike asked, his brows drawn together. “What’s—” He stopped. “Wait. What do you mean she had the gun? I thought the police had it.” Realization rippled across his expression. “Oh, hell—”
“Courtney is one of the witnesses,” Justus confirmed, and Courtney’s father just closed his eyes. “The other is Ric.”
“Ric—No, no, that’s not—” Mike shook his head. “There must be some mistake. Because if Courtney and Ric are both pointing the finger at Jason, then they’d need to be working together, and that’s just not—Christ.” He turned away, dragged a hand through his hair.
A phone rang on the other side of the suite, and Max went to answer it. Jason focused on Mike. “I know this is a lot to take in. I’m sorry—but Ric and Courtney were in contact before that night. She was giving him Elizabeth’s schedule.”
“She—” Mike faced Jason, stricken. “She gave Elizabeth’s schedule to that monster? That’s how he knew when to show up to bother her? Christ. Nikolas said something about that—why would she go to him? Over you? Over the affair?” he demanded.
Jason nodded grimly. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize—don’t—if she’d—” Mike fisted his hand in front of him. “She had a right to be angry with you, to maybe even want some revenge. But Ric Lansing—that’s—no, there’s a mistake.”
“Well, we won’t know anything until we talk to Courtney,” Justus said. “And Mike, you’d be a lot of help in that area.”
“Whatever you need, sure.”
Max came back to Jason, holding the cordless phone in his hand. “Jase, Wally at the front desk—he says the Baldwin and the commissioner need to talk to you.”
Jason opened his mouth to send him away, but stopped. Remembered the call Mac had received at the courthouse, Scott’s expression when he’d learned whatever Mac knew. He nodded. “Send them back here.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Justus warned, but Max was already lifting the phone to his ear. “Jason—”
“Something happened at the courthouse. Before they left, Mac got a call, and he looked surprised. Not just surprised. Flattened. He hurried Scott out of there. And now, half an hour later, they’re here? I want to know what they want,” Jason said.
“Okay, but they do all the talking,” Justus said.
“Should I go?” Mike wanted to know. “I can go track down Courtney—”
Before Jason could agree, there was a knock on the door, and Max twisted the knob. Mac came in, followed by Scott. The two of them looked around at the group in the security office, and Jason saw Mac’s eyes focus on the image on the screen. On the image of Courtney in the lobby.
“That the night of the shooting?” Mac asked gesturing.
“Yeah.” Jason folded his arms. “What do you want?”
“Actually—” Scott scratched his cheek. “It’s a good thing Mike is here. We—we were going to see you next.”
“Is this about Kelly’s? Do you need to get more time in the courtyard?” Mike asked, coming forward.
Jason saw the way Mac and Scott looked at each other, and his stomach dipped. “What happened? You got called away from the courthouse. Why?”
“Yeah, I did. By the manager at the Port Charles Hotel. Courtney checked in there a few days ago,” Mac said. He looked at Mike, angled his body towards him, and Jason knew—he knew what was coming next.
And it still hit like a ton of bricks when the words were spoken. “I’m sorry, Mike. We were called there to report a murder. Courtney. She’s gone.”
Hardy House: Living Room
“I was going crazy at the mansion,” Emily said, accepting the cup of tea Audrey handed her. “We can’t move into the cottage yet, but they refused to let Zander stay in the house. And don’t make that look.”
“I’m not.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “You should still be in isolation—”
“I can’t go to the hospital, no. But I can get in a car and come here where there’s only you and your grandmother. I just needed to see you. To see for myself that you were okay. And I thought Jason would be here—I thought he was bailed out.”
“He went to handle a few things.” Elizabeth picked up the glass of water, a bit awkwardly. It was difficult to handle things with her left hand. “The first priority is finding out what happened that night so that he can get these ridiculous charges dismissed.”
“Grandfather was the on the phone as soon as we got home, I left him yelling at the phone at some congressman.”
“Representative Boehlert,” Audrey said, taking a seat in the arm chair. “I have a call of my own into that office,” she told a surprised Elizabeth. “Your grandfather had a lot of friends, darling. And I’m not above using my own network. You’ve been through something so terrible, and you should have Jason at your side, not off fighting for his freedom.”
Emily furrowed her brow. “Wait. I missed something.”
“Gram has turned over a new leaf and is now Jason is her favorite person,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile. “Mostly because he keeps telling me to rest—”
“And he’s the only person you’ll listen to,” Audrey said, lifting her chin. “Speaking of that, Emily, you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, but—”
“I know, I know, I promised I’d lay down and nap.” Elizabeth offered Emily a smile. “I’m sorry—”
“No, no, you need to take care of my future nibling.” Emily leaned forward, kissed her cheek and hugged her lightly. “I have a leash of my own, but we won’t be down for long. Trust Jason to get this sorted out. I know it sucks to let him deal with it, but there’s a reason I should have called Jason all the times I got into trouble. Can you imagine how much trouble it would have saved us both?”
Harborview Towers: Security Suite
Mike took a step back, reached out with his hand, braced himself against the wall. “What? What are you saying right now?”
“Courtney was shot sometime between two and two-thirty this afternoon,” Mac said. “I’m sorry, Mike. I don’t know if it helps, it probably doesn’t. But she—it was quick. She didn’t suffer.”
“Christ. Christ. My baby? My baby is dead—” Mike’s knees started to buckle, and both Jason and Justus came forward, helped him to sit down.
Courtney was dead. Murdered. Jason found his hand trembling slightly as he put it on Mike’s shoulder, looked back at Mac and Scott. No wonder they’d looked so damned upset at the courthouse. “That’s only an hour ago.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Around twenty minutes after the judge set bail.” Scott cleared his throat and put up a hand when Justus opened his mouth. “That’s not me saying anything about—obviously, we know where you were, Morgan.”
“The thing is—” Mac rested his hands on the back of the chair that sat in front of the row of cameras. “Scott told you that arresting you was just a ploy to make Ric and Courtney think we believed them. I thought it was a stupid plan,” he added, shooting Scott a dirty look. “But he meant it when he said we know what happened at Kelly’s wasn’t you.”
“We thought it was Sonny,” Scott forced him. “We heard some rumors that he wasn’t altogether in his right head. With Lansing being the obvious target—” He scrubbed both hands on his face. “But we don’t know what the hell is happening. Because I’d say a lot about Corinthos, but this? No. No. This wasn’t him.”
No, it wasn’t, Jason thought, and that realization had him taking a seat of his own, his mind racing. It wasn’t Sonny that night in the courtyard, and it hadn’t been Sonny killing his own sister. That only left one obvious suspect, but why would Lorenzo Alcazar go to any of this kind of trouble? What was the point? How did it help—and why would he leave witnesses—
Witnesses he might now be eliminating.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Jason said, almost more to himself. He lifted his gaze to Mac’s. “Courtney and Ric’s story didn’t make sense. And it wouldn’t have matched the evidence. Elizabeth doesn’t remember who shot her, but she sure as hell knew Courtney wasn’t there—”
“But killing her eliminates that problem. Now she’s just a dead witness.” Justus winced. “I’m sorry, that’s—”
“It’s accurate,” Mike managed. “She got herself in trouble somehow. Got twisted up with that monster, lied to get revenge on Jason. So stupid,” he bit out. “So stupid to tell such an obvious lie. So why do this? Why—”
“Because you believed her,” Jason said, and Mac frowned, looked at him. “That’s what the world thinks. No one knows that you kept investigating. I just don’t understand—if killing her was supposed to frame me further, why didn’t they wait?”
“She was found almost two hours before she would have been,” Scott said. “The maid reversed her schedule. Time of death would have been harder to pinpoint.” He looked at Mac. “And the crime scene tech said something—”
“They put the air on,” Mac murmured. “It would have messed with—it would have made it harder. Jason—arresting you to get to Sonny—that was stupid. But—”
“I thought it was him,” Jason said softly.
“Jason—” Justus began, but Jason shook his head.
“We can’t keep doing this. I can’t—someone is eliminating witnesses. They went for Courtney first because she was alone. You should put people on Ric in the hospital because he’ll be next. And—Carly, she’s in a coma. Elizabeth—” He looked at Max. “The house—”
“We got people on it. As soon as we found out Miss Webber was being discharged, Jase. I knew you’d want her to be top priority,” Max assured him.
But Jason wanted to be there, wanted to see for himself. But first—he got to his feet. “I thought it was Sonny,” he repeated. “Just like you did. He’s been having hallucinations. Struggling with staying in the current time and place. And he went missing during the time period we knew the shooting happened.”
“It might still be Sonny,” Scott said. “But—”
“You said Courtney gave you a gun registered to me. I don’t know where she got it. I don’t know anything about it. But Sonny—” Jason went over to the keyboard by the cameras, pressed a few keys to rewind the footage. “He was back here less than ten minutes after the 911 call. And he doesn’t have a gun on him. So where did Courtney get it?”
“Ten minutes from the pier to the Towers is…a very tight schedule. Was he on foot?” Mac wanted to know.
“I think so. We were just realizing it ourselves that it couldn’t be him. I wanted to talk to Courtney. She comes in just a little while later. Max—”
“She was upset. I think Mr. C was rough on her. She ran out of here, crying. But she came back later. Twice,” Max added. “Wally could confirm it. The first time, he told her about the cops coming by, and she left. Then she came back.”
“To get the gun?” Scott asked Mac who nodded. “Okay. Okay. Well, we can’t ask her whatever she might have known. So—” He looked at Jason. “Who else might have done this? You have to have a name in mind.”
Jason hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I do. But I don’t understand how or why he’d have done this.” He waited another beat. “Lorenzo Alcazar.”
General Hospital: Carly’s Room
Bobbie sighed in relief. “The swelling has gone done?”
Tony nodded, looked down at the chart again, flipped through a page. “The edema has almost entirely resolved itself. I expect that to continue to subside throughout today. She’s scoring a six on the Glascow Scale—that’s up from a 4 when she first came in,” he reminded her. “She’s responsive to pain, and her eyelids are starting to flutter.”
She looked back at her daughter, still quiet and still, before facing Tony again. “When she wakes up, do we know—”
“We won’t know anything until we can speak with her, Bobbie. But this is a good sign. An excellent,” he corrected.
“Thank you. Thank you.” She pressed trembling fingers to her lips. “I know how hard this is for you—”
“She’s just a patient, Bobbie. Your daughter. That’s all that matters to me right.” Tony touched her elbow. “I wouldn’t wish losing another child on anyone. I’m relieved to be delivering good news.”
“Thank you, I—” Bobbie paused, reached for the cell phone vibrating in her phone. “Hello?”
“Bobbie,” Jason began. “We have a problem.”
When she closed the phone, she looked back at Tony. “Can you keep this to yourself?”
“Keep what?” Tony asked, frowning. “Is everything all right—”
“It will be. But Carly’s improvement, the odds of her waking up—can you keep that quiet? Because something has just happened, and I don’t want anyone to know Carly might wake up and tell anyone what happened. It’s life or death, Tony. Promise me.”
“I promise, but I need you to tell me what’s going on.”
“I will, I just—” Bobbie took a seat, took a breath. “Everything I thought I knew only an hour ago has turned upside down, and I don’t know if I can make sense of any of it.”
Hardy House: Living Room
“Oh, Jason, Elizabeth will be so pleased you’re here.” Audrey stepped back, allowed Jason to enter the house. “You missed a visit from your sister, but it was definitely a boost to Elizabeth’s mood.”
“Emily has that way about her,” Jason said. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, still unsure what to do with Elizabeth’s grandmother being supportive or kind to him. “Is—Elizabeth in the kitchen or—”
“Of course, you must be worried about her. She went upstairs to rest, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you went up. Let her know I’ll have dinner ready soon, but not to hurry herself.” She patted Jason’s arm. “Upstairs, third door on the left. Her room overlooks the front of the house, if that helps.”
Jason climbed the steps, and found the right door. He knocked first, and when there was no answer, he went inside, exhaling a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding in. Maybe some part of him had expected something else when he opened the door — maybe to find Elizabeth on the floor or worse, not in the room.
But she was laying on her back, her right arm still set in the sling. She’d changed after court, into a pair of long gray pants and blue shirt. Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling in a regular pattern.
She was safe. Sleeping.
He pulled out the chair that was tucked beneath a desk just at the end of the bed, and sat down. He might have a thousand things to do, but right now, in this moment, all he wanted to do was be alone, in the quiet, watching Elizabeth breathe.
Port Charles Harbor
The sleek white yacht had been anchored in the harbor for a few weeks now, and it reminded many of the dock workers of a similiar ship that had been docked a year earlier. That had been named La Venganza — and most had wondered at anyone who’d name their vessel revenge.
This yacht did not have such an ominous name—it was more innocuous, more optimistic, more common. Carpe Diem. Seize the day.
A man strolled outside one of the decks, a cigar in his hand. His dark eyes scanned the shoreline, wondering if his present had been located yet. If his quarry knew that game had changed.
Of course, they wouldn’t know the true purpose of any of this. How could they? They thought had all the answers. All the necessary facts—and they did.
He was here for revenge. He did wish to avenge his brother. That poor bastard.
There was just one problem with that theory.
“Señor?”
When the first call didn’t work, the woman tried again. “Señor Alcazar? Will you want dinner?”
“Yes, Marta.” He turned to smile at her, his teeth bared. “I find myself starving.”
And this that, Luis Alcazar tossed his cigar overboard and went inside.
Update Link: Chain Reaction – Part 30
We’re back, and in our old summer time slot! I’m writing at 11 and posting at 12, because it helps me remember to actually leave my office and stop working, lol.
I’m really glad I took off last week from scheduled writing. I finished summer school on Wednesday, and then spent the last four days relaxing, sleeping in, watching the Olympics, and playing the Sims 4. (The new expansion dropped on Thursday, and I am OBSESSED). I also got caught up on the last few assignments for my online class. All that’s left for that class is the unit plan, which is basically done, and the paper due in two weeks. I’ve even just about finished the content and materials for my first two weeks of classes! The goal for the rest of August is to finish the first units for both classes which would be AMAZING.
I did, however, do some really important writing work. I finally sat down and finished figuring out the changes for the second half of These Small Hours. The book is going to be about 70 chapters long with an epilogue, with 20 chapters edited. Starting today, I’m planning to work on editing at least 2 hours a day until I return to work on August 26. I don’t know yet how much will get done, but I feel fantastic about this second draft, and I hope you will too when you get to read it 🙂
Thanks for your patience as I navigated this summer and the changing demands on my schedule. It was so worth it to teach summer school and write curriculum — the extra financial resources are going to make so much about this upcoming year even better!
See you on Wednesday!
Written in 65 minutes.
Port Charles Courthouse: Hallway
When Elizabeth flinched, slid back on the bench slightly, Jason winced. “That’s not—I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you everything, but I can’t. I shouldn’t.”
“I don’t understand—I don’t understand any of this!” Elizabeth took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was steadier. “Why do they think you did this? What witnesses—”
“I can’t tell you anything until you give a statement to the PCPD. Justus told me there’s nothing on record yet,” Jason said, and Elizabeth closed her mouth, furrowed her brow. “Have they talked to you since I—since the arrest?”
“No. No. Justus doesn’t—because you might be accused of tampering with a witness—okay, that makes sense—and no. No, they haven’t. That’s strange, isn’t it?”
Not where he was sitting, but Jason didn’t want to give Elizabeth a reason to ask anything else. He didn’t want her to find out just yet what Scott said he was planning with the arrest—though the performance in the courtroom had Jason leaning a little bit more towards believing the idiot district attorney that this was all a ploy.
“Maybe. So let me just get you home, and then—”
The doors to the court room opened, and Scott strode out, with Mac on his heels. Before Jason could stop her, Elizabeth was on her feet and closing the distance between them.
“Elizabeth, should you be on your feet?” Mac wanted to know. He reached out, as if to take her arm—but when he caught Jason’s hostile glare, his hand dropped to his side. “Surely the doctors didn’t release you already—”
“Take my statement. Right now,” Elizabeth interrupted. “So I can tell you this is all bullshit and Jason can tell me how you’re framing him.”
Scott tipped his head. “You don’t know yet?” He looked at Jason. “You didn’t tell her?”
“And have you accuse me of tampering with a witness? No. Elizabeth, we should get home—”
“No—” Elizabeth stepped away, raising her free hand up in a fist. “No. This happened to me, and it happened to Carly, but she can’t tell you anything. Okay? And because of whatever ridiculous evidence you’ve cooked up this time, Jason can’t be where he needs to be. There’s a scared little boy who keeps asking for Uncle Jason—”
“And where is that boy’s father?” Scott asked. Jason kept his expression even, was relieved when Elizabeth just turned that angry gaze from Mac to Scott and didn’t even flinch.
“Jason didn’t shoot me. I can’t believe I have to explain this to you—”
“Elizabeth—” Mac began, then shook his head. He rubbed his temple. “Okay. Okay. You want to give a statement? Let’s go down to the station—”
“No. No. I want to do it right here so I can go home. It won’t take long. I was unconscious for most of it,” she bit out. “So ask me the questions already.”
Scott glanced at Mac. “We can get the basics here. At least enough so that Morgan here can fill her in on the charges against him.”
“Fine. Elizabeth, do you know who shot you?” Mac said, and he held up a hand before she began to speak. “And don’t tell me who it wasn’t. That’s not a lot of help.”
She pressed her lips together, then took a deep breath. “I don’t remember much. It’s all in pieces and flashes. Carly and I were in the courtyard arguing. I wanted her to wait for Jason, and she wanted to leave. She knew he’d be upset she’d come to Kelly’s without a driver or a guard.”
Scott lifted his brows. “Just you and Carly?”
“Yes. She called me earlier that day. Said she wanted to talk to me alone. I was already at work, and I told her to come just before closing. Otherwise it would have to wait. I thought she’d found out—I thought she was going to yell at me, and I figured—” Elizabeth looked at him. “Well, she might as well show up when you’d be there and get it all over with.”
“So she was going to confront you about the, uh—” Mac paused. “Relationship between you and Jason,” he said finally.
“I thought so, but when she came in, I realized she was upset. Not angry.” Elizabeth rubbed her fist against her chest. “She wanted to tell me that she’d overheard Ric and Courtney in the park. Talking about working together to get rid of me.”
“Get…” Scott set his briefcase down. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Courtney gave him my schedule so he could harass me. I don’t know what she thought would happen. I don’t particularly care. But Carly was upset. She wanted to tell me things that happened while she was in the panic room this summer.”
“You said you and Carly were fighting,” Mac reminded her. “It was just about the guards?”
“I want to go back to this summer,” Scott said, but Mac shot him a dirty look. “We can do that later.”
“Yes. Yes. We were standing there, and then Ric showed up. We wanted him to leave.” She pressed her fist to her lips now. “It—it’s not clear after that. There’s just screaming. And pain—”
“That’s enough,” Jason said, stepping in finally. “You have what you need—”
“Almost,” Mac said, putting up a hand. “Just one or two questions to clarify something, Elizabeth. If you remember. It’s okay if you don’t.”
Jason grimaced, but Elizabeth nodded. “If it helps you find out what really happened, then ask.”
“You said Ric showed up. What entrance?”
Elizabeth frowned, and Jason looked at the commissioner with some confusion. Why would that matter?
“The…street. Not the parking lot.”
“So through the arch?” Mac continued. “What about the gun shots? Where did they come from?”
“I don’t—” She closed her eyes, some of the color having leeched from her skin during the interrogation. “I don’t—I don’t know for sure. Carly and I were facing Ric, but we were—we were arguing. I kept trying to get in front of her, because she was so far along, and she kept shoving me behind her because Ric was there to talk to me—” Her voice wavered, and Jason put an arm around her shoulders.
“That’s enough,” he repeated. “You have what you need.”
The phone at Mac’s side vibrated, and he stepped away, pulling the phone from his belt to answer the call.
“Yeah,” Scott said. “We have what we need. For what it’s worth, Morgan, I’m sorry for what happened in there—”
“You know he couldn’t have done this. He wouldn’t hurt me or Carly. Not for anything in the world. So if you’re sorry, then let him go.”
“I—” Scott opened his mouth, but then Mac came up, took the district attorney by the arm.
“We have to go.”
“What—”
“We have to go,” Mac repeated. “Jason, you tell Elizabeth whatever you want. We need to go right now.”
Jason frowned, watching the two of them head for the elevator. He continued to watch as they waited for the doors to open—Mac whispering something in Scott’s ear, and the attorney whipping his head around to stare at Mac in surprise.
“Something’s happening,” Elizabeth murmured.
“I want to get you back to Audrey’s,” Jason said. “Come on—”
“And then you’ll tell me what’s going on?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that now.” He waited for the elevator doors to close on Scott and Mac before leading Elizabeth over and pressing the button. “I’m glad I waited. That they know you didn’t have any information from me.”
“Why?” Elizabeth asked, her brows drawn together, the question in her eyes. “What does it matter? I don’t know anything.”
“Because Ric and Courtney are the witnesses against me, and you just told them independently that they were already working together before this happened.”
Forest Hill House: Kitchen
“It’s a blessing, really,” Leticia said, closing the door to the living room where Michael could still be heard playing video games. She looked at Bobbie. “When I told him his mother was sick and couldn’t see him, he didn’t even question it.”
“No, not after this summer. I suppose he wouldn’t.” Bobbie sank into a seat at the table, put her head in her hands, combing her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know if we’re doing the right thing, keeping it from him.” She looked at the nanny. “You know Sonny and Carly were having problems.”
“I know that I often heard yelling,” Leticia said carefully. She sat across from Bobbie, her dark eyes guarded. “That Mrs. Corinthos was very upset when we left. And that Mr. Corinthos was not doing well. That he has not been here.”
“We don’t know anything yet. And before we could find it out, Jason was arrested.” Her mouth pinched, Bobbie looked towards the window. “Until that’s settled, until I know what we’re doing with Sonny, I need you to keep Michael happy. Keep him out of school. Away from the news. It won’t be more than a few days. Jason’s out on bail now, so we can start sorting this all out.”
“Of course. Anything for Michael. I hope Mr. Morgan is exonerated quickly. And that Mrs. Corinthos wakes up and makes a full recovery.”
“So do I,” Bobbie murmured. Because any other outcome would be unthinkable.
Port Charles Courthouse: Parking Garage
Elizabeth saw her grandmother standing by their cars, talking with Mike and Justus. Her mind still whirling from everything Jason had told her on the elevator. He was being framed by Ric and Courtney—
“You can’t trust Scott,” Elizabeth said, catching Jason by the arm before he started towards the cars. “Maybe Mac. But not Scott. He let Ric go this summer.”
“He says that’s why he’s doing this. To make up for that.” Jason laced their fingers together. “But Justus agrees with you. So for now I’m staying silent.”
Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip, looked down at the cement floor before lifting her gaze back to his. “Sonny wasn’t there today. And I haven’t seen him. That’s not the Sonny I know, so I guess I have to ask—and I understand if you can’t answer—” Her voice trembled as she continued, “Was it him? Did he think Ric was trying to hurt us? A-And we got caught up by accident?”
“I don’t—” Jason exhaled on a low shaky breath. “I know what I suspect. But I don’t know anything for sure.”
“Right. Right. You got arrested that same day.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I can go home with my grandmother. You should go find out.”
“Elizabeth—”
“This is putting me first,” Elizabeth said, and he closed his mouth. “Finding out who did this to me, to Carly? That has to come before the rest of it. I can’t help you there. I don’t remember anything. I can be there for you, I can offer advice, but we both know there’s nothing I can actually do.”
“I don’t—” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “I know, but—”
“And Gram will watch over me. You know that. She’s already giving me the evil eye because this is longer than I was supposed to be up and on my feet. I’ll probably sleep for a week. She’s monitoring me,” Elizabeth added. “Taking all my vitals. She was a trauma nurse, you know. You can trust her and me to do this part. So you should go with Mike and Justus and find out what happened with Sonny.”
“All right. All right.” Jason brought her hand to his mouth, kissed the inside of her palm, then he leaned forward to brush his lips against her forehead, lingering for a minute. “I’ll come by later. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Port Charles Hotel: Suite
Mac pressed his lips together, then looked at Scott. “So what next, counselor? You want me to pin another crime on Morgan that we know he didn’t do?”
They both looked down at the body between them, sprawled out on the creme colored carpet. Blue eyes were open and pointed towards the ceiling but the slight glaze of death had already descended. A small round hole could be seen between those eyes, just slightly above the brows. The entry wound was neat and tidy, but the exit wound hadn’t been judging from the blood that soaked the wheat-blonde hair and the carpet beneath her.
Courtney Matthews was dead. Freshly dead.
“Well, he’s got one hell of an alibi, doesn’t he?” Scott murmured. “How long—”
“They think maybe half an hour. Housekeeping found her. And a half hour ago—”
“Jason was standing in the hallway of the court house with us,” Scott said. “This can’t be someone trying to frame him—it’s too close—”
“Let’s step out in the hallway. I can’t—” Mac gestured towards the door and Scott followed him. Outside, they discarded their gloves and the protection they’d worn over their feet. “The maid told the officer who responded to the call that she doesn’t usually work this floor first.”
Scott lifted his brows, interest engaged. “Really?”
“There’s a VIP checking in—well, supposed to have,” Mac said, moving further towards the wall to let more crime scene technicians through. “So she decided to switch. This is nearly two hours before she would have come through.”
“Two more hours would have made time of death a little bit harder to pin. Some wiggle room if you know Morgan’s out on bond.” Scott stroked his chin. “Yeah, okay, I can see that. But that still leaves us with a problem.”
“Someone’s eliminating the witnesses, and it’s not Jason Morgan. And I gotta tell you, Scott—I don’t see Sonny Corinthos executing his little sister in cold blood. I bought that he took out his wife and Elizabeth by accident going after Ric, but this—this is an execution. Textbook.”
“Cameras?” Scott asked.
“Checking on them. They’re only at the elevators, not the hallways. Not on this floor. For privacy,” Mac added. “And something tells me we’re not going to have a lot of luck there.”
“Christ. We need to start at the beginning. Start with throwing out everything we think we know.”
“You mean investigate like a real cop?” Mac said dryly. “Sure. But I think we should start with the notification. If Jason is holding back, he’s going to want to know someone just raised the stakes. ”
Harborview Towers: Security Suite
Jason shook his head. “Run it again,” he ordered the security guard sitting by the strip of televisions. He needed to see the footage again, to see the timestamps—because this didn’t make any sense.
It couldn’t.
“I don’t understand,” Mike said, coming away from the wall, mystified. “I don’t understand what this is showing us—”
“911 call came in at 11:54 PM. Six minutes before midnight. Jason and Bobbie were in the parking lot. How many minutes between the shots and the call?” Justus asked looking at Jason.
“Two. Three at the most.”
Jason reached over the guard’s head and pressed the rewind key again. Watched as Sonny returned to the building at 12:02 AM, passing through the lobby doors, his hair disheveled. A guard approached him. “Is that enough time to get to Kelly’s and back?” he wanted to know.
“I mean, maybe. Ten minutes is tight—” Max furrowed his brow. “But not impossible.”
“But he’s already hid the gun?” Mike asked, and Jason looked at Sonny’s father. “Ten minutes. He ditched the gun along the way, maybe. But Scott said they had it—”
“Scott said they had a gun registered to me they thought was used,” Jason murmured. “It was handed over to them.”
“By who?” Mike demanded.
It didn’t fit. It couldn’t be this way. Sonny had no weapon when he’d returned to the building, so how had Courtney found it? And how had Sonny gotten his hands on one of Jason’s guns when they were locked in the closet—
Jason sat down, dragged a hand down his face. “I think maybe we need to start at the beginning. Because I don’t think Sonny—” he looked at Sonny’s father. “I don’t know if Sonny did this. But if he didn’t do it—”
Max grimaced. “Oh, this just got really bad, didn’t it?”
Hello 🙂
I’m going to be taking this week off from updating Flash Fiction. I haven’t really slowed down since school let out on June 13. As you know, I went straight into writing curriculum, completing 52 hours between June 14-June 30 in addition to prepping, then teaching summer school. I’m also finishing up an online class I need for my French teaching certification.
I was doing okay, but I really just hit a wall last week and struggled to get anything written or edited. I couldn’t even focus on my coursework. I really need to let my brain rest. Summer school ends this week (on Wednesday!) and the final three days are already prepped and scheduled. This is the last week for coursework for that class, and my final projects are about 2/3 finished (and I have until August 11 for the piece that’s the furthest away).
I’ll return for the final month of my summer break (Jul 29 – August 25) with regular Mon/Wed/Fri updates for both flash fictions. Chain Reaction during the weeks of Jul 29 & 12, and Warning Shots the week of August 5 & 19.
In other writing news, I’m planning to split These Small Hours into two releases. Not two books, lol, but two releases. It’s a super long book (we’re looking at around 60 chapters). Part 1 will be Chapters 1-32, and Part 2 will be Chapters 33 – Epilogue. Right now, I’m planning to spend this week finishing up the long overdue process of mapping out the second half of the edits and figuring out how many chapters I need.
I’m hoping to have Part 1 ready for release by mid-September, then Part 2 in mid-October. I’ll know more about those dates when I come back next week.
While you’re waiting for me to return, make sure you’ve checked out the Recent Updates page which has everything I’ve completed in 2024 (and it’s a lot!). Catch up with Chain Reaction and Warning Shots or check out my Crimson Swift collection. I’ve released folklore as well as two singles from evermore (“no body, no crime“) and Red (“The Last Time“). Oh! And I published an entire novel: Fool Me Twice, Book 2.
If you’re looking for something new to read, check out my rewrite of 2002, Bittersweet, or rewrite of 2006, For the Broken Girl. There’s plenty to tide you over until next Monday.
Update Link: Warning Shots – Part 28
Hello 🙂 It was a great Friday & Monday — first time in YEARS we’ve had back to back Liason scenes, and Monday’s scenes between Jason & Jake were gorgeous. You should definitely check them out if you can! Plus, the actress playing Charlotte has recovered from her medical issues which necessitated her temporary exit last winter, and I’m really excited for her to be back at the same time Jason and Valentin are going to be openly enemies. (If you’re not watching, Jake and Charlotte were dating briefly back last fall, and were super cute.)
I’ve been hard at work data analysis for next year — matching learning goals to state standards, and then to language standards from the ACTFL (national language association) and if that sounds boring — uh, it probably is unless you’re a nerd like me. It’s actually *really* fun, and I’ve had to argue with myself to STOP working on it, lol. It’s some I need to do, so I can rewrite my benchmarks.
I am slowly, but surely chipping away at These Small Hours. I’m nearly through the chunk of the story that needed that most work and material added, but I have this one huge story event to fix and then we’ll be in the second half of the book. The second half was much stronger because, by then, I knew what story I was telling and I understood the characters better. It just takes time to edit, lol, and I am really terrible at estimating how long it’ll take until I’m in the thick of it.
I’ll be back on Friday!
Written in 61 minutes.
June 2000
“Four days.” Sonny slapped his hand on the bar. “And nothing. Not one attack on me, on you, on anything—” He clenched his jaw. “What the hell is he waiting for?”
It was late morning, and the interior of Luke’s was abandoned as it usually was this time of day. Since Jason’s exile to the island, Sonny had found himself there more often than not, and today he was out of patience.
“Stupid question, Corinthos.” Luke tapped his cigar against an ashtray. “He’s waiting for Jason to pop up like a rabbit so he can take another shot.” He reached for the newspaper where the shooting last Friday night had been relegated to below the fold and bottom of the page. Nothing new to add or even to speculate. “We’ve known that from the beginning. I’m telling you, you go march into the Oasis, you pop him in the head, and bam! Problem solved!” He bit down on the cigar, then used both hands to open the paper. “Sale at Wyndham’s if you’re in need of a new grill.”
“Oh, you think plotting the assassination of a rival is so easy—” Sonny made a face, then picked up his drink. “You know, you didn’t even kill that one guy. He fell into that stupid machine and froze himself to death, so it’s not like you’re an expert—”
“Yeah, but the rest of world thinks I’m a hero,” Luke said, with a grin. “Catapulted me right into the mayor’s office—”
“Which you promptly resigned the second Laura came home, a blessing to us all. I’m glad I didn’t live under the political reign of Luke Spencer.” Sonny shuddered.
“Right? I must have been drunk when I agreed. All jokes aside.” Luke set both the cigar and newspaper aside, then folded his arms, leaning his elbows against the bar. “We’re going to do it this, right? It’s just a matter of time before Moreno decides to make a bigger stand. You were always going to have to exterminate him. Let’s just get it done and move on.”
“I…” Sonny pressed his lips together. “I am. But the problem with tossing out Moreno, I got that little bitch Sorel right after him—and there’s Mickey Roscoe, too. I cut one down, another one pops right up.” He scratched his chin. “So I gotta think about what comes after and be prepared. Or I set something up that eliminates the entire trio, sending that entire organization into chaos so I can pick up the pieces. Something like that, Luke, can’t be planned overnight.”
“No, I suppose not.” Luke straightened. “And not in the next week or so. What’s the plan for when Jason’s well enough to come back? He goes right back to being a target, along with anyone standing near him. Unless you can figure out how to keep him away.”
“Do you have anything to offer other than obvious statements?”
“Nope.”
“I need new friends.”
—
“This isn’t real food.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and plucked the plate from Jason’s grasp. “Didn’t stop you from eating it,” she called over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen area. “Dr. Santiago said—”
If he heard that name one more time, Jason was going to put his fist through the wall, he thought, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. He was pretty sure that Elizabeth had taken notes or recorded the resort doctor when he’d come that morning to check his stitches and condition.
The fever was gone, and he wasn’t as tired, so he’d been upgraded from staying in bed all day to lying on the sofa all day, and if he was careful maybe a short walk to the water and back. No spicy foods, nothing that might agitate his digestion with the medication he had to take—
“Maybe for dinner, I’ll ask the resort to send down the nachos you liked the last time we were here.”
Jason opened his eyes to see Elizabeth standing at the foot of the sofa, biting her bottom lip and looking a bit hesitant. “What?”
“Well, the doctor said no spicy foods, but if they make it without the peppers, it could be okay. I could look at the menu again and you know, since you own the place—”
“Own shares,” Jason muttered reflexively.
“—they probably wouldn’t mind some modifications. I know you hated the soup the last few days. And the oatmeal. And the rice wasn’t a hit,” she said, looking towards the kitchen. “It’s just—”
“I’m not mad at you,” he interrupted. He sat up again, wincing slightly. “I’m mad at whoever shot me. I hate sitting around. I hate not doing anything.” He dragged a hand down his face, irritated with himself. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Elizabeth said, shrugging. “Hey, you wanna try the walk the doctor said you could do? It’s better than nothing.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jason braced a hand on the arm of the sofa to push himself to his feet, wincing at the pain in his side. He exhaled slowly when he was finally standing up. “Do you want to come with me?”
“Um, sure.” Elizabeth kicked off the sandals she’d been wearing.
“You don’t have to—you can stay and paint. You probably want a break from me.” He inched towards the terrace doors, determined to make it to the water and back without needing a break.
“You sure you don’t want a break from me?” she asked doubtfully.
He paused at the terrace door, looked back at her with a frown. She stood near the sofa, her arms folded low across her abdomen, and she was looking at the floor. He’d been ridiculous, he thought, complaining like a baby about things neither of them could control. “Yeah. Come on. We could both use a break from the house.” He held out his hand, and she took it.
—
“Oh, no—” Emily ducked away from the doorway of Kelly’s, turned and gripped Juan’s shirtfront. “You have to hide me—”
Juan looked past her, saw Audrey Hardy beyond the glass doors, then sighed at his girlfriend. “She might not ask you questions.”
“She’s only left three messages for Elizabeth since she left, and I don’t have a good cover story. Quick.” Emily shook him slightly. “Help me come up with one.”
“Have you tried — your granddaughter is a legal adult, and it’s none of your business where she is as long as she’s alive?”
Emily’s eyes rounded in horror. “No! No! Are you insane! If I talked to Audrey Hardy like that, my grandfather would murder me where I stood! Oh, you’re worthless,” she muttered. She collapsed at a table in the courtyard. “Isn’t there something else I could tell her? Anything else?”
“Emily.” Juan sat down. “You could tell her the truth which is that Elizabeth is off on a tropical island with your brother.”
“How do you know that? I didn’t tell you that!”
“I’m not a child, you know. I grew up around this stuff,” Juan reminded her. “Jason gets shot at, Liz is with him. They disappear off the face of the Earth. You told me yourself the island is where Jason goes when he wants to be away from people.” He paused. “You could tell Mrs. Hardy the truth, or you could go with reality which is that it’s none of her business and not your job to play Liz’s keeper.”
Emily folded her arms on the table, then put her head down. “There’s a third option. I’ll expire from anxiety right here in the courtyard, and I won’t have to worry about this at all.”
“Well, it would solve the problem. Creates new ones,” Juan added, “but it would take the current one off the table.”
She raised her head slightly to glare at him. “You’re not helpful.”
“Have you also thought maybe we could just leave and avoid the whole confrontation?” Juan asked.
“Yes! Yes! That’s exactly what we’ll do! See, I knew you’d come up with something.” Emily lunged to her feet, dragged Juan up with her, then squeaked when the door opened, and Audrey stepped out, a brown bag in hand.
“Hello, Emily. I—I’d hoped to see Elizabeth with you.” Audrey lifted her brows. “She never seems to be around when I’m trying to speak to her.”
“Oh, weird. She hasn’t called you back or anything?” Emily asked, hoping that she sounded cool, calm, and collected. And not like a squeaky mess.
“Oh, I heard from her this morning. But just strange how it’s always a call back. Almost as if she’s screening her calls.” Audrey pursed her lips. “And I always seem to just miss her at the pool house or the studio.”
“Wild. Timing is just…strange, right? And Liz is just crazy distracted right now. You heard about the show, I mean. She’s spending all her energy on that. Long hours, but lots of breaks,” Emily said.
Audrey stared at her, then cleared her throat. “And oddly enough, I took my car to your brother’s garage for an oil change. It’s closed.”
“Really? I think maybe he had things to do with the warehouse. You know, the garage is just a hobby, really.” Emily put her arms behind her back. “I can call him. Find out when a good time would be.”
“No matter.” Audrey headed for the parking lot, and just when Emily thought she was in the clear, the older woman turned. “When you speak to Elizabeth next, please remind her that she is an adult who is quite capable of choosing her own friendships, and that there’s need to hide from me. I’m certainly not going to disown her for being, ah, friendly, with your brother.”
“Could be so much worse,” Juan said, and grunted when Emily elbowed him. “What? Getting back together with Lucky would be worse.”
“That’s true, Mr. Santiago. I would characterize that as a much poorer choice. It’s lovely to see you, Emily. You look awfully pink. Make sure you’re using sunscreen.”
And with that, Audrey was gone.
——
Jason made it down to the shoreline, though he was unhappy that he’d broken into a slight sweat to get down there, and needed to sit down instead of starting back up to the house. He hated this — he’d hated it after the accident, when he’d been shot three years earlier—every time he had no choice but to sit down and be still for hours at a time—
It made him want to crawl out of his skin.
He stretched out his legs, close enough to the water so that the waves gently lapped at the bottom of his feet when the waves came in. Elizabeth sat next to him, tucking the ends of her light breezy skirt beneath her. She tilted her face towards the sun, her eyes closed, hair cascading down her back. His fingers itched to touch it, but he kept them at his sides. The last thing he needed was to start something he couldn’t finish.
“I could get used to falling asleep with the sound of the ocean,” she murmured. “Not one of those stupid sound machines, you know? Or the cassettes you can get. But the real sound of the waves.”
“Yeah, it’s okay.”
She opened her eyes, looked at him, tilting her head to the side so that those curls fell across the shoulder left mostly bare by the tank top she wore. “We need to come up with things you can do until the doctor clears you for more. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit still for so long.”
Jason wrinkled his nose, then looked out over the ocean. “It reminds me of the hospital,” he muttered. “After the accident. I couldn’t move anywhere. Couldn’t leave my room. Then it was just to talk to doctors. I can be still,” he added. “I used—” He looked down, drew his fingers through the sand. “I used to stand with Michael in front of the windows for hours, listening to him sleep.”
“Ah, that makes sense. I’m sorry. I know this isn’t my fault, and that it’s not my job to entertain you or whatever, but I’m still sorry you’re so unhappy.”
He lost the battle with himself, reaching out to touch one of the curls brushing against her arm. “I’m not unhappy,” Jason corrected. “Just impatient. Don’t worry about me, okay? I want you to concentrate on your art. On the things you’d be doing if you were back at home.”
“Well, ironically, since I’m a waitress, serving you meals is what I’d be doing back at home,” she teased.
“Oh, yeah?” He arched a brow. “Am I supposed to be tipping you?”
“Oh, for sure, and I’m keeping a ledger, so don’t try to weasel out of it later.” She tapped her temple, and he laughed.
“Fair enough. Maybe I should make a down payment on what I owe you.” He leaned forward, brushed his lips gently against hers, then drew back slightly took find her eyes on his. She smiled hesitantly, and then he kissed her again, softly, lingering. Her fingertips brushed his jaw when he moved back.
“That’s a good start,” she murmured, her lips curving into a deeper smile. “A very good start.”
Update Link: Warning Shots – Part 27
Tracker:Â These Small Hours – Beta Draft
So I guess we liked Saturday’s update?
One of the fun things about flash fiction is just throwing things out there, and the final scene of Saturday’s Chain Reaction was one of those. I had sketched out that scene very briefly, just noting a character who shows up. But it wasn’t until I was actually writing it that I had to figure out what to do — so it really was planned in the moment, but I’m glad I did it!
If you fall behind in any updates, I’m doing pretty decent with keeping my Recent Updates Page up to date since I redesigned it to be organized by story, not by date. So always check that, then the update blog.
In other news, I learned how to make fancy digital trackers to track my students better, and I tossed together a better track for These Small Hours. The chapter count isn’t accurate — I’m not quite done breaking the story down, so I overestimated how many chapters I’m going to need.
It’s the All Star Break this week, and other than the Home Run Derby and All Star Game tomorrow, my nights are free. I’m hoping to get more writing done.
See you on Wednesday!
Written in 64 minutes.
June 2000
“Well, it’s about time,” Luke grumbled. He set two shot glasses on the bar, then filled them both before sliding one across to Sonny. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.”
“Sorry, sorry—” Sonny glanced around the dark, garishly decorated bar. “Any damage inside, or—”
“Just the damn light outside. They always go for it,” Luke said mournfully. He tossed back the shot of vodka. “I think they like the sparks. My picket fence is a lost cause—again. Why did I open my place on the territory lines again?”
Sonny lifted the glass to his lips, then paused. “I made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”
“Ha,” Luke said sardonically. He poured himself a more substantial tumbler of the whiskey. “What about damage on your side of the aisle? I got a pair of shoes that I think might belong to our Miss Webber. She show up shoeless?”
“Yeah, now you mention it. Hold on to them for now.” Sonny slid the shot glass back, accepted his normal bourbon. “She’s not able to get them.”
“She okay? I figured if she was hurt, I’d know by now—”
“No, no, a couple of scratches from being shoved into the gravel, but Jason took the bullet.” Sonny leaned forward. “He’s good, but I decided to get them both off the grid for a week or two. He’s gonna recuperate on the island, and I figured a pretty face might help him follow orders.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “So they are a thing. When did that happen?”
“Not even sure it has, so whatever you’re thinking, stop. Nothing was going on back then. Your kid running his mouth is the reason I’m here.”
“How do you figure that?” Luke’s drink hit the bar with a dull thud, his eyes snapping.
Sonny supped “Well, my primary suspect is Moreno for the obvious reasons. But he didn’t just put some of his guys on it. He put out a contract. That’s not his usual style, so I gotta think it’s not just business. It’s personal.”
“You think my kid is the only person Jason has pissed off lately?”
“Actually, yeah. Because Moreno’s been pissed off for over a year. Why act now? What changed? Nothing.”
“Nothing except Jason getting cozy with his sister’s roommate. You said it yourself, my idiot kid ran his mouth to anyone who would listen.” Luke scowled. “You think it’s crazy that someone found out Emily and Liz went down to the island? That Jason went with them? Maybe he’s been keeping all of it quiet, but quiet ain’t the same thing as silent now is it?”
“No,” Sonny admitted.
“So maybe Moreno thinks Jason’s got something to lose. I mean, the guy waited for Emily to leave because no one wants that smoke, but you and I both know that it would have been much easier to ambush Jason at the garage. He’s alone there most of the time. Just—” Luke mimed shooting a gun with his thumb and index finger. “He walks out and bam. Job’s done. You said it yourself, Moreno’s been pissed for a year. You’re telling me no one noticed Liz going in and out of that place when my kid wasn’t there?”
“We’re not back to that—”
“I’m not accusing her of anything. I’m not. She’s a good kid, and I want good things for her. Jason made this personal when he went back on a deal, so why are you all surprised Moreno doesn’t just want the territory back? He’s got patience, don’t he? He’s been around for years, and Jason’s never been alone long.”
Sonny nodded. “Okay. Okay. You’re convincing me. I didn’t think Lucky was a good candidate, but it’s a box I had to check off.”
Luke pressed his lips together. “I’m not saying Lucky’s perfect, or that he’s on the side of the angels with all of this. He’s smart enough to know he can’t take Jason face to face. Maybe he’s got some of my bad habits, but he’s also got his mother in him. I don’t see him hiring a contract killer to go after Jason. Do you? I mean, do you really?”
“No. No, I don’t. But I like that idea more than Anthony Moreno sitting back and waiting to pounce until Jason had someone in his life. Because if that’s true, this problem isn’t going anywhere until Moreno’s gone for good.”
“Yeah, well, we both know he ought to have been knocked off a long time ago, but no one wanted to deal with the fall out. The street fight to take his territory. But if he’s the one behind it, Sonny, then you’re out of time.”
—
By the time the car pulled in front of the villa, Jason was nearly cross-eyed with fatigue and pain. He waited until the last possible second to get out of the car, only vaguely hearing Elizabeth talk to the guard who had picked them up at the airport and who would be in and out, keeping an eye on things.
“Hey, Raoul is going to help you into the house—”
Jason blinked, tried to focus on her voice, but she was just a hazy vision that barely seemed real. “Okay,” he said, or he thought he said. It was hard to know—he didn’t really feel his moth move, but her blurry figure moved away, replaced by a darker, more hulking on.
“On three, Senor Morgan,” came an accented voice. Jason felt his arm moving, being slung over someone else’s shoulders? Maybe. “One. Two. Three—” With a grunt, Jason felt himself being lifted to his feet, the pain in his side exploding.
By the time Raoul had made up the short set of stairs and down the hallway to the bedrooms, Jason was sweating and ready to set himself on fire. Or drown himself. Wasn’t the ocean closer?
He lay back on the bed, hearing footsteps and voices around him but it was like it was happening somewhere else, to someone else—then there was a cool cloth over his forehead and he let out a groan.
“You have a fever,” Elizabeth said softly, the cool cloth moving down to his neck. “Raoul is going to the resort to get the doctor. You didn’t take the antibiotics?”
“I—” He leaned his face in her direction, grateful when the cloth came back, soaked in more cool water. “I meant to.”
“That’s a no. Maybe doing laps around the bedroom and going up and down the stairs at Sonny’s was a bad idea.”
Jason let his eyes drift close, then floated for a while. He jerked awake at the sharp jagged edge of pain in his side again. “Don’t—” He tried to reach out, to stop the touching, but soft, smaller hands took his.
“It’s okay. Doctor Santiago is just cleaning it up and putting on new bandages. And—” There was a pause, some talking in lower voices he couldn’t follow. “Okay, okay, we have the antibiotics, but you need to rest and you need sleep. I know you hate pain medication, but maybe just one pill?”
“No—no, don’t like—”
“Okay. Okay. We won’t take it—” Her voice disappeared again, and there were some hushed whispers. She returned again. “What about a stronger aspirin or something?”
He jerked his head in a nod. He could do that. He didn’t like the way those other pills tasted, the fog they left his mind in, the way they made his body feel—
“All right. I’ll tell him.”
A few minutes later, she returned and he felt something in his mouth, then cool water at his lips. He drank it, swallowing the pillow, and when he felt her hands again, stroking his forehead, combing through his hair, he relaxed and drifted off to sleep.
——
Elizabeth ran the cold cloth across Jason’s face again, trying to make sure he was as cool as possible, then cleaned up the medical supplies, stowing them on the dresser. She went to the threshold, looked back to make sure he was still sleeping.
Then she went across the hall to one of the rooms that had been empty the last time they’d come here, but she’d wanted to be closer to him in case he needed her. She hadn’t realized he was hurt so badly — he’d seem almost unaffected back in Port Charles, but he’d just done too much. Worried about her until he’d nearly collapsed, woke up and deal with her anxiety spirals—
Elizabeth opened the doors to the terrace, let the cool breeze wash across her face. Until now, he’d been focused on her, but she wasn’t going to let him do that anymore. No, for once, she was going to be the strong one.
——
Jason slept through the rest of that first day and night, and most of the second day, waking only to take some water, some more antibiotics and basic pain relievers, choke down some of the soup she forced on him. He’d probably used the bathroom, too, Elizabeth thought, but he’d never ask for her help with that, so there was no way to know.
At any rate, by the morning of the third day, the infection had started to recede and he was feeling better. Looking better, too, she thought. But he was still confined to the bed, and she worried that he’d never ask for more help now.
So she decided to force him. Sonny’s art supplies had showed up that second day, and on the third morning, after he’d forced down oatmeal, Jason was startled when Elizabeth marched through his doorway, carrying an easel in her hands. She set it up on the terrace just beyond his bed, then went back across the hall. She returned with a canvas and long, flat box that she set on the ground.
“What—”
“You’re well enough that you’re going to start getting ideas about moving around,” Elizabeth said, and he winced because of course he’d likely already planned it. “I’m hoping if I’m in here, you won’t try that. Because if you fall, you’re staying on the ground until I get someone from the resort to help.” She lifted her brows. “Is that what you want?”
“Uh, no, but—”
“So Sonny sent down books down for you. You read or sleep, and I’m going to paint.” She set down a trio of books, then disappeared into her room again. She came back with a t-shirt thrown over the tank she’d been wearing, this one stained with paint.
He picked up the books — Sonny must have just grabbed whatever was on the shelf in the living room. A trio of travel books to Egypt, Germany, and Italy. He picked up Egypt first, began to flip through it.
They sat in relatively comfortable silence for a while, maybe thirty minutes before Jason’s head began to ache, and the words started to swim on the page. He set it aside, but it hit the top of the next book and slid off the bed with a thud.
Elizabeth stopped, setting her brush down in a can of water that had appeared at some point. She came closer, stooped to pick it up. “Did you want me move these so you can sleep or—”
“No. I’m not tired,” he muttered, laying his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes. “The print’s small. It’s making my head hurt.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth looked down at the book, ran her fingers over the picture of the pyramids. Then she sat on the bed, folded her legs, and opened the book. “Where did you leave off?”
“What?”
“I’ll read to you. If nothing else, that’ll put you to sleep. It did my freshman English teacher. Mrs. Grady back in Colorado. I was giving a presentation and she conked right out.” She flipped through some of the pages, stopped on one of the early pages. “The Pyramids of Gizeh are the only wonder of the ancient world still existing. I took an art history class last semester, and you know, it always makes me so sad to think of all the beautiful pieces of art and architecture that are just gone because of wars and humans being stupid.” She flipped through some of pages. “Like, the Colossus of Rhodes, you know? It’s this huge statue that was supposed to straddle the harbor. That was an earthquake there. It was made of bronze, and snapped. People used to travel to see the pieces of it.”
She looked over to see Jason just staring at her. “What?”
“Nothing, I was listening to you. Where—where was the statue?”
“Oh. Greece. I really want to go there—and—” Elizabeth reached for the other travel book. “Italy is definitely on the list of dream vacations. I want to go to Venice. The light’s supposed to be different there. Have you ever been?”
“No. You?”
“Please. New York City is the furthest east I’ve ever been, and I’ve never been west of the Rockies.” Elizabeth laid back against the pillows. “But it’s on the top 5 places.” She flipped through the Italy book, stopping on a picture of the Grand Canal. “What do you think it’d be to live on the water like this? I saw somewhere that mail gets delivered on boats. That’s just so wild to me. And amazing.” She turned her head on the pillow, and he was still watching her. “Do you want to go back to reading?”
“This is good. I like listening to you.”
“You said that before, but I guess I have to believe you. Why travel books? Or did Sonny just grab the first three he found and didn’t think about it?”
“I like reading about other places. I used to think I’d go there one day. I used to read about the animals in Africa to Michael.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Those were his favorite books. The ones about Africa. He liked the pictures.”
“That’s sweet. I love the picture that paints in my head. What’s your top 5? You know, mine is Greece, Italy, the Alps, oh, and Alaska. And definitely France.”
Jason furrowed his brow, considered. “Egypt. South Africa. Italy. Alaska’s a good one. You’re not worried about being cold?”
“It’d be worth it to see the glaciers and the mountains. Maybe one day. You only named four.”
“Australia,” Jason said. “Or New Zealand.”
“Those are all excellent choices.” She flipped through the book again. “Do you want me to read to you—”
“I don’t want you to stop painting, even if it’s not going well.”
Elizabeth looked back at him, and he was watching her again. “How can you tell?”
“You’ve been muttering all morning at it. You liked it when you started,” Jason added. “But now you don’t.”
“How—” she sat back up. “What do you mean, muttering? You mean, like, I talk to myself?”
He nodded. “You sing, too. Or you did earlier.”
“I—I sing?” Her cheeks heated and she brought her fisted hand to her mouth. “Oh no. No, please tell me I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Oh, this is—” She bit her lip. “This is awful. Terrible. What—What do I sing?”
“I didn’t recognize the song.” He squinted. “Something with the word sometimes a lot.”
“Oh, God. This is mortifying.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Please tell me you’re lying.”
“I never lie. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious.”
“Oh. I’m not. Just mortified now,” she muttered, pulling her knees up and burying her face in h er knees. “Let’s talk about something else. I’ll read to you, or—”
“I think you should sing to me.”
Her head jerked up and she looked at him, only to find him grinning. “Oh, absolutely not. And for that, you can read to yourself.” She slid off the bed and went back to her painting, sneaking another glance at him. He was still smiling, and she had to smile back, even if she was mortified beyond the speaking of it.
Update Link: Chain Reaction – Part 29
Remember we’re moving to Mon/Wed/Fri updates next week for Warning Shots! See you then!
