Monthly Archives: September 2024

September 7, 2024

This entry is part 2 of 32 in the These Small Hours: Book 1

I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
– Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

Thursday, September 25, 2008

General Hospital: ICU Waiting Area

“I’m sorry, you’re planning to do what?” Nadine demanded, shifting the patient chart from one arm to the other. “You’re moving to California? Just like that?”

“Not just like that. There are still some details to get in order—” Nikolas winced, took her arm and lead her away from Epiphany and other curious ears at the nurse’s station. “We found a really good facility, and they’re holding a spot for Lulu. They think another one will open in a month or so for my mother. Alexis is working out the terms of the deal with the DA.”

“Yeah, but—does Lulu know about this? I can’t believe she’d agree to this—I mean, her whole life is here. I was just out with Maxie and Spinelli, and Maxie’s talking like Lu is going back to work.”

“What my sister wants to do when she’s well is her own business,” Nikolas said. “But for right now, her health comes first. Lu will appreciate this when she realizes it’s the best—”

“Oh, so she doesn’t know. You’re not even going to ask her? Great idea, Nikolas. Uproot her when her mental health is fragile enough. Take her away from her friends, her job, her family, her boyfriend—” When Nikolas looked away, Nadine narrowed her eyes. “Oh. Oh, that’s the point, isn’t it? You’re separating her from Johnny. That’s low, Nikolas. Even for you—”

“Look at what he’s put her through!” Nikolas hissed, his cheeks flushing. “She’s in this mess because of him—”

“She’s in this mess because Logan Hayes attacked Maxie, and Scott Baldwin badgered her into admitting it on the stand just like he tried to badger me. I got thrown in jail, and she’s in Shadybrooke. Johnny tried to cover it up, and okay, that’s on him. But when it was clear Lu wasn’t okay, he got her help. Why don’t you give him any credit? None of this is his fault.”

“Since when do you defend Johnny—never mind.” He dropped his hands to his side. “This isn’t up for discussion. I’ll go over Scott’s head to get this deal done, and then Lu and I are going to California.”

“This isn’t a discussion,” Nadine repeated. “Well, it’s about to be an argument because as soon as I clock out, I’m going over to Shadybrooke and—”

“I’ve limited her visitors,” Nikolas said, and Nadine closed her mouth. “Starting tomorrow, it’s just me and Lucky from now on. She’ll go to the wedding, that’s fine, but sometime next week, this will happen. I only told you because—” He hesitated. “I thought I owed you an explanation—”

“I think you’re making it very clear that you don’t owe me anything.” Nadine exhaled slowly, looked away, gathered her dignity. “You know, it’s fine. It’s fine. Thanks for informing me. I hope your sister gets well and kicks your ass because what you’re doing? Denying her friends and family when she needs them the most because you’ve got a hatred for her boyfriend tells me everything, I need to know about you—have a nice life.”

Safe House: Living Room

Elizabeth peered through the window again, sighing when there still was no sign of any car or motorcycle coming up the drive. She paced away from the window, then checked the clock over the mantel. Ten minutes past six. Traffic, she thought. Or maybe something had some up. Wouldn’t be the first time—

No. No, she’d spent so much time trying to get Jason back to this place — to seeing her in private. To being in love, even if no one else could know. Though Elizabeth doubted it was much of a secret. She knew the dark SUV that was always across the street were Jason’s men, and Lucky said nothing about the one that always sat at the Spencers on the rare occasions he had the boys. Gram likely never noticed, but there were always guards on the boys.

And, well, it went without saying the entire world knew Elizabeth had slept with Jason two years earlier, that there had been a question about the paternity of Jake. As her youngest son grew older, he looked more and more like his father. The shape and color of his eyes were dead ringers for Jason’s — and if Edward Quartermaine ever got a good look at him, he might recognize his beloved Lila’s eyes in Jake’s face.

And sometimes when he smiled, quietly and shyly, the way Jason did when no one was looking—

They were going to have a lot of questions in a few years, but Elizabeth hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

There was a rumbling, then crunching of gravel. Elizabeth went back to the window, sighing in relief when she saw one of those black SUVs now. It rolled to a stop next to her car, then Jason climbed out. He must have had meetings, she thought—he still wore a black suit, though the jacket had been discarded, leaving him in a black-button down shirt. He had a file folder in his hand when he closed the door.

Elizabeth met him on the front porch with a kiss, gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him towards her. Jason dropped the folder to the ground, his hands diving into her hair. It had been days, she thought, since she’d felt his mouth against hers, his body pressed against hers. “Mmm, sorry. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Jason stroked the back of his knuckles down her cheek. “I’m sorry I’m late. Carly came as I was heading out and wouldn’t go until I practically shoved her out the door.” Keeping one of his hands laced through hers, he stooped to grab the folder. “I know it’s hard to get a sitter for the boys last minute.”

“Gram’s a lifesaver, and they love going there. They’re so good with her,” Elizabeth said, following him inside. “Well, Cam is, and Jake follows his lead. It’s like he knows he can’t be as crazy at her house. She can’t run after him the way I can—” She made a face. “Sorry. You didn’t ask—”

“No, no, I like—” He hesitated, then looked down at the folder in his hands. “I like hearing about them. Thinking about what they’re like. It’s—it’s good that they’re gentler with Audrey. And Jake following Cameron—it’s—I don’t mind,” he finished, almost awkwardly.

The silence lingered for a moment, but then she cleared her throat. “You said you had something about the trip? Which is still definitely happening,” she added, hoping it sounded like a light tease, but ended up more as a question.

“Nothing is going to keep me from getting on the plane with you and taking you to Italy,” Jason said, his eyes meeting hers. “I know—I know we had to…I know what I’ve done to hurt you—”

“Oh, no, Jason—”

“I haven’t kept my promises, but I’m trying to now. I still don’t—” He cleared his throat. “Maybe I still don’t really know why you’d want any of this, but you do, and I love you. I need you to believe that I want this trip maybe more than you do.”

“I do. I do,” she repeated, softly when he just sighed, looked down at her hands as she slid them up his chest. “I love you. That’s enough for me.” She leaned up, brushed her mouth against his. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to make a joke, and it didn’t land.”

“It’s okay. Uh, Diane tried to get you pre-clearance for the airport on Saturday, but there wasn’t enough time—you don’t—” he winced. “You don’t travel enough to skip the security line.”

“Figures,” she muttered, taking the letter from him rejecting the application. “I’m a normal person who never gets in any trouble, therefore I’m a security risk that the TSA needs to frisk. You’ve been on trial for murder like three times—”

“Twice,” he corrected.

“—and you get to skip the line. Where’s the justice?” She crumpled it up. “Can we just pay them off?”

“Uh, no, I don’t know anyone in the TSA,” Jason said, and she was relieved when he only smiled at that. Sometimes he wasn’t very appreciative of her attempts to make light of his less than legal activities. “We’ll just have to take more trips,” he said.

“Well, I like the sound of that,” Elizabeth said. “I guess this means we’ll have to meet at the gate. You’ll make it in time for boarding, won’t you?”

“If everything goes right, I should be there when they open for boarding, yeah.” Jason took her hand, lead her to the sofa where they sat down. She curled up next to him, taking his hand in hers again, just liking the way they looked next to each other. “And if it looks like anything is being delayed, I’ll leave early.”

“Really? Even if Kate and Sonny are mid-vows?” Elizabeth teased. He kissed her lightly.

“Really,” Jason promised. “Nothing is going to stop me from getting to that gate. From going to Italy.

She believed he meant that, but it was just so hard to think that something wouldn’t stop them. “There’s more, right? I doubt you dragged yourself all the way here just for a rejection letter.

“Diane thought—and I think she’s right—we’re traveling internationally together and, uh, we’re not related.” He looked at their interlocked hands, and she didn’t say anything right away. She knew they were both thinking about April. About those last few minutes before the world had caved in — when they’d been engaged. Would they be married by now? Would Italy have been a honeymoon?

“Anyway,” Jason continued after a moment of silence, “she pointed out that if anything happened—well, she just suggested a power of attorney. For both of us.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense.” Elizabeth drew one of her legs up to her chest. “I guess Gram would be mine, and I didn’t even tell her I was going to Italy. Most people think I’m going to the Bahamas. I figured that was safer. She’d be so confused if—well, it makes sense. So is there paperwork to sign?”

“Yeah, some things for you to fill out, then we have to sign it with witnesses. I asked Diane and Max to come by the coffee house tomorrow if you can make that work. If not, we can do it Saturday—”

“I can come, it’s just—I’ve got the boys. I don’t want to ask my grandmother again, and—” she winced. “Lu used to grab them, but obviously that’s out. Can I bring them?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’d…I’d like that.” Jason flashed another smile, and she felt her own mouth curving in response.

“We’re really going to Italy, aren’t we?” She swung a leg over his middle, straddling him, her fingers fisted in his shirt. “We’re going to spend ten days with no phones, no family, no hospital, no Carly, all by ourselves in Venice?”

Jason’s hands slid up her back, his fingers warm through the thin cotton of her shirt. He pulled her down for a kiss, murmuring against her mouth. “Waking up together every morning—”

“Mmm,” she sighed dreamily, “walking in the Piazza San Marco—”

“Just you and me.”

She snuggled against his chest, tucking her head beneath her chin, enjoying the rise and fall of his breathing, his arms around her. “Can you stay just a little longer? I don’t want to leave yet.”

“I can stay as long as you can,” Jason said.

“Then maybe…” she traced the edge of the black buttons on the shirt. “Maybe we should go see if the mattress is as comfortable as it was the last time we were here.”

“I think…” Jason’s hands slid down to her waist, and then she was lifted in the air, her legs instinctively curling around him, her arms sliding around his neck. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Jacks House: Kitchen

“And he just shoved me right out,” Carly muttered. She set the plate of pizza in front of Morgan at the table, then returned to her mother at the counter. “Can you believe it? He’s leaving for ten days with all of this going on—”

“Do you remember when you came to see me last week?” Bobbie asked. “Devastated, crying. You’d just come from Jason’s, and you were feeling mortified because you’d walked in on Jason and Elizabeth—and by the way, I’m pretty sure you weren’t supposed to tell me about that—and you were so grateful because Elizabeth didn’t even say anything. She just left so you and Jason could talk. What happened to that?”

“I—” Carly closed her mouth. “Look, that was last week. It had all just happened, and I was still reeling, okay? Jax had left, and—”

“And now you’ve had time to think about it, so we’re switching back to Elizabeth is the enemy.” Bobbie shook her head, bit her into her pizza. “This is no different than watching reruns of your favorite show, and it’s always the episodes you wished you’d forget.” She touched her daughter’s arm. “Honey, I know how horrible this year has been. Believe me, I know. I buried my little girl. I lost my marriage.”

“You mean the one I destroyed?” Carly muttered, picking at the cheese. “Do you think I can’t hear myself?”

“Sometimes I think you focus on something that doesn’t really matter and pick at it until you’ve destroyed it. By then, what’s really hurting won’t feel as bad. But, baby, you’ve got to stop picking Elizabeth as a fight. She’s not the enemy. And she hasn’t been in a long time. Are you really angry that Jason’s taking some time for himself? That he’s going on a trip with someone he loves?”

Carly sighed, looked over at the table where her youngest son sat eating his pizza. No one else with him. No brother across the table. No visits from his sister, Kristina. No stepfather to tease him. “I’m angry because he has someone in his life, and I don’t. He and Elizabeth…they’re just starting. There’s…I’m jealous,” she finally said. “Because he has something—someone—and everything is ending for me. I’m angry at the world, you know. At me, for ever thinking Sonny was good enough. For letting him near my son. For letting him leave that day.” Carly closed her eyes. “I’m angry at everything and everyone. Maybe even you for bringing me into the world in the first place.”

“You need to find a way to live with that—”

“That’s what I’m doing,” Carly said sharply. “I’m sorry if that means your precious Elizabeth gets the truth thrown at her once or twice, but she can handle it. Are you done taking her side? Can we just have dinner without you criticizing me?” She avoided her mother’s eyes, picked up her pizza and went over to the table.

She was done being picked apart by the people who were supposed to love her. She’d get through this on her own.

Crimson Pointe: Johnny’s Bedroom

Claudia Zacchara draped herself against the door frame, lifted one perfectly plucked dark brow, and watched Johnny unhook a garment bag from the closet. “Going somewhere?”

“Figured it was easier to grab a room at the Metro Court,” Johnny said draping the bag over the bed next to a half-packed suitcase. “Instead of driving back and forth all the time. I’ll be back on Sunday probably.”

Claudia made a face. “You’re really going to that stick’s wedding? Can’t you think of anything more fun to do on a Saturday night?”

Johnny dumped the last of the clothes into the bag, then zipped it. “You mean hang around this mausoleum watching you and Dad circle each other like vultures?”

“Eventually, Daddy will go crazy again and I can take over for real or he’ll do something stupid enough that Jason Morgan will have to take action.” She folded her arms. “Either way, I end up winning, and all I have to do is sit back and wait. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Don’t forget Trevor. He’s not going to let you take over without a fight. As long as you both keep me out of it—” He lifted the suitcase, the garment bag over the other arm.

Claudia flattened a hand against Johnny’s chest when he tried to pass her. “Don’t be like that, John. I’m not that mercenary. Everyone will be better off when our father is out of the picture and I’m running things.”

“I agree about that first part,” Johnny said, and her expression soured. “Lately, Claudie, every time you try to do something, someone ends up in the hospital. Maybe we’d be better off if you were in back in Italy.”

Her dark eyes watched him carefully, then she lowered her hand. “We used to be close, John. All I’ve ever done is try to protect you.”

“Tell that to Michael Corinthos. Was that protecting me?” Johnny bit out. When his sister flinched, he sighed. “Just drop it. Okay? I don’t want to be involved in any of this, I never did. And you’ve always known that. So if you have some vision of playing puppet master while you pull my strings, get it out of your head right now. I don’t want anything to do with this life.”

“You keep saying that,” Claudia said, calling over her shoulder as Johnny started down the hall. “But you have no problem coming home to Daddy every time things go wrong. You know he’s going to be pissed when he finds out you’re not here.”

“I trust you’ll find a way to irritate and distract him. Have fun.”

Safe House: Bedroom

It was wrong to say that Jason didn’t dream when he slept at night. It might be more accurate to say that he didn’t dream the way other people did — visions swirling in and out of his mind in deep sleep — that hadn’t happened since the accident. He never understood it when anyone talked about weird and strange dreams. Didn’t everyone have control of their dreams? Lying in bed, closing your eyes and letting yourself think about what your life could be like? What you wanted it to be like?

If anyone had told Jason what he thought of as dreaming was actually daydreaming, he might have furrowed his brow with confusion. What was the difference?

When he did lay awake, more often in the terrible months since he’d lost his sister, then Michael so close together—when he laid alone in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he thought about what he wished for his life.

It was always the same — Elizabeth curled up next to him, her breathing soft and even, feeling safe enough to sleep at his side. Across the hall, Cameron and Jake asleep in their own beds. Sometimes they shared a room, sometimes they were separated. He couldn’t decide which he’d prefer.

The nights he dreamed about always started with putting them to bed, tucking them in, reading to them, whatever nighttime rituals they cherished. Then going across the hall, closing the door behind him, and watching Elizabeth get ready for bed. Taking down her hair or brushing it, smiling at him. What came next was the only piece of that vision that Jason was able to hold on to.

Jason set Elizabeth on her feet, letting her body slide down slowly against his. He stroked the dip between her chin and her bottom lip, the soft skin like silk against his rougher thumb. She smiled up at him, that slow, sultry curve of her lips that always drove him crazy — she’d smiled at him once this way in public and he’d had to sit down until he could walk away without making it obvious what he’d been thinking.

“Are you just going to look at me all night?” Elizabeth murmured, sliding her hands up his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, one at a time, her fingers lingering on each one.

“I could,” Jason said, intently. “You’re so beautiful.” She smiled again, but this time, she bit her lip and let her head fall against his chest. “You are,” he whispered against her hair. “You should hear that every day. The way you move, the way you smile, and laugh—all of you. I think about you all the time. It’s distracting,” he admitted, “but I can’t stop.”

Elizabeth lifted her head, tipping her head to the side, then continued to unbutton his shirt, spreading the sides apart, then kissing him, softly, then hungrily, her fingers tightening in the fabric, then stripping it off his shoulders, winding her arms around his neck. He slid his hands beneath her top, seeking out more of her smooth, soft skin, tugging the hem of the shirt higher and higher until his hands were cupping her breasts, still encased in lace. She broke away, her breathing heavy so that he could whip it over her head.

He reached for the button of her jeans, unhooking it, then sliding the zipper down. He hooked his fingers beneath the denim, slowly sliding them down her legs, kneeling at her feet. Jason kept his eyes on hers, discarding the flats she wore first, then the jeans, then pressed his open mouth to the inside of her high. She bit her lip, her breathing more shallow, faster as his lips cruised until they reached their destination, still covered by lace at the junction of her thighs.

Her fingers twisted in his hair, yanking slightly, but Jason barely noticed. He peeled off the panties, then lifted her thigh so that it rested over his shoulder.

“Jason—” was all Elizabeth could manage before she broke off with a strangled cry, when he found her with his tongue. She reached out blindly with her other hand, found the corner of the closet, and gripped it hard.

When she came apart, she nearly collapsed, but Jason scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, stripping off the rest of his clothes and her bra in an almost feverish rush. There were no lingering caresses, no soft sighs, or slow movements, not now. Just the urgency and desperation of two people who never had nearly the amount of time together they deserved—

Elizabeth fell onto her back, her throat hoarse, sweat shimmering across her chest. “We’re never going to survive ten days in Italy,” she managed. She turned her head on the pillow, saw him looking at her with a grin. “Look at you. All pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

His grin just widened, and he folded his arms beneath his head. “What if I said I am?”

“Well, then I’d say…” Elizabeth sat up, bit her lip, then looked at him again. “It’s my turn.”

September 2, 2024

Update Link: Chain Reaction – Part 35

I can’t believe I have to go to work tomorrow! The last few weeks went so fast! I tried to set this post up for almost 20 minutes, lol, but the cat keeps laying in front of the keyboard. I think she knows I’m about to abandon her, lol.

Anyway, I’ll be back at some point between Friday-Sunday with the next update, and I’ll try and figure out what the schedule looks like.

This entry is part 35 of 48 in the Flash Fiction: Chain Reaction

No idea how long this took, actually. Started at 6, had to take a break for an allergy attack (super fun, haven’t had one in a few weeks and your brain always tricks you into forgetting how terrible those are). Anyway, it’s done. Enjoy.

General Hospital: Hallway

“Hey.” Bobbie kissed Jason’s cheek, then squeezed his hand. “What brings you to the hospital?”

“Elizabeth has a follow-up with Tony,” Jason said, folding his arms. “I figured maybe it’s easier if I’m not there considering—”

“Right. Well, if you came to see Carly, I’m afraid you’ve just missed her. They took her in for more tests.”

“Oh.” Jason looked past her to the empty space where Carly’s hospital bed should have been. “How was she? Still—”

“Still the same. In and out. Not staying awake very long, and when she does, she’s just asking for Michael or Sonny.” Bobbie patted his arm. “Take a walk with me so I can stretch my legs. I’ve been sitting most of the morning.”

They headed down the hallway, back towards the nurse’s station. “How’s Elizabeth feeling?”

“Tired and sore.” Jason’s mouth was grim. “Still no feeling in her hand. Not enough anyway. And she feels guilty for even worrying about it with everything else.”

“I can understand that. A lot of people would look at her and think, well you’re out on your own two feet, you didn’t lose your baby, and you just have to learn with your right hand. No big deal. It could have been so much worse.” Bobbie squeezed his arm. “But you and I know what her art means to her.”

“Yeah.” Jason exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. About all of this.”

Bobbie stopped, looked at him with furrowed brows. “Why are you apologizing to me?” she asked, a bit dumbfounded. “Jason—”

“I could have done more,” he said with a quick shake of his head. “To help Sonny before this all went wrong. Now he’s at Rose Lawn, Carly was in a coma, Courtney’s dead—” he looked away. “Elizabeth might never pick up a paintbrush.”

Bobbie tipped her head, smiled sadly. “Don’t tell me you’re punishing yourself for not having the gift of reading minds. We worried over Sonny, both of us. And when Carly threw in the towel, you made sure she got out. We had no way of knowing—even imagining this might happen. And Courtney? Maybe if she’d made a thousand of other choices, she’d be here with us.”

“I know, it’s just—”

“We all did the best we could, Jason. Carly might not be able to tell us what happened that night. Ever. Elizabeth might not ever remember. All we might ever have is the fragments of what Sonny thinks he might have done. I’m trying to come to terms with that.” She lifted her brows. “Is there any news on Lorenzo Alcazar? Mac said he was their primary suspect in Courtney’s murder and whatever happened to Ric.”

“He’s off the grid, which isn’t great news.” Jason scratched the edge of his brow. “We’re looking for him, too. I don’t like the idea of either of them out there. We don’t even know for sure that Ric hasn’t been working for him all along.”

“And isn’t that a depressing thought?”

“I’m not going to stop looking for him, Bobbie. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’ll never know what happened that night for sure, but until I find the two of them, the people who matter will never be safe.”

General Hospital: Examining Room

Tony Jones watched as Elizabeth attempted to tighten her fist around a rubber ball, then made a note in his chart. “Range of motion is about where we’d expect it right now.”

Startled, Elizabeth dropped the ball and blinked at the doctor as he went to wash his hands. “But I can’t hold anything with my hand. I can barely hold a fork—”

Tony turned back to her, drying his hands on a towel. “I know it’s frustrating when you can’t do something that came so easily just a few weeks ago. And I know you’re an artist — that fine motor control is essential. The bullet nicked your brachial plaxus—” He gestured to his shoulder. “That controls so much of the movement on that side of your body — a few more centimeters, and we might be discussing the paralysis of the entire arm, not just your fingers.”

Elizabeth dropped her gaze to her hand, to the useless fingers. “You’re right. It could be worse.”

Tony set the chart back down, returned to his stool. “They’ll give you some exercises at the desk when you check out. Take it easy on them for another week or so, really let that injury heal. Right now, all of that area—” He touched his own shoulder. “It’s still angry, still inflamed. Let it relax. Ice, a little bit of stretching, the anti-inflammatory medication — all of that will combine to give us a better sense of where we are when you come back in—” He squinted. “Let’s say three weeks, unless you need something sooner.”

“But you think I might be able to get full range back?”

“Oh, well, I don’t want to make any promises. I can’t tell you a hundred percent of it will come back, not right away. Just try and have some patience.”

Patience, Elizabeth thought as she scheduled the next follow-up and retrieved the exercise and physical therapy regiment. She tried to remind herself that Tony’s job was to be realistic, and not to make promises he couldn’t keep, but she’d really hoped for something a little better.

Jason was outside in the waiting area, studying the view outside the window. “Hey. How did  it go?” he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth and retrieving the paperwork she held.

“Fine, I guess. Did you get to see Carly?”

“More tests.” Jason steered her towards the elevators. “But tomorrow, Bobbie said, she wants me to bring Michael by. Carly should be up to it by then.”

“That’ll be good for both of you guys.” Elizabeth leaned into his side, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Almost done.”

“One more stop, and start thinking about what to have for dinner.”

Port Charles Grille: Restaurant

Scott set the file down in front of Justus, then sat across from him. “That’s the entire investigative file. Everything I had when I  went to trial against Jason and Brenda.”

Justus lifted the file, which was no more than a few inches thick. “Seems a bit light for a murder investigation.”

“There’s a box of evidence back at the station,” Scott said, picking up the menu, flicking to the specials. “But there wasn’t much to go on. Kind of impressive I managed to get a conviction—”

“A wrongful conviction,” Justus said meaningfully. “I wouldn’t be so proud of convicting innocent people—”

“Morgan didn’t push the guy, but I’m not calling him innocent—”

“There’s not much here on the victim. Just his autopsy report,” Justus said, speaking over Scott. “Was there a background check?”

“Didn’t really need one. He was known to our suspects, and had been bothering people for a few months by that point. Besides, don’t Morgan and Corinthos have everything for you to look at—”

“I’m asking you about him. You said you wanted to get to the bottom of this, remember?” Justus said. “We all agreed Lorenzo Alcazar was the best suspect. We’re starting back with his brother’s murder. There are things you can get as the government that I couldn’t get legally—” When Scott opened his mouth, Justus pointed a finger at him. “No. Don’t even say it. Everything has to be by the book. Courtney—her family deserves that much.”

Scott made a face. “Yeah, yeah. Well, all we know about Lorenzo Alcazar right now is he was supposed to be the good brother. I guess maybe identical twins aren’t as different as everyone wants to think they are.”

“Doesn’t look that way, no. Let’s start with full background checks on both brothers and see what we’re dealing with.”

General Hospital: Examining Room

Elizabeth flinched slightly when the technician spread the cool gel across her lower belly. “Oh, that’s so cold.”

“Sorry,” the tech said, flashing a smile, then tapping some keys on the monitor. She picked up the wand. “Let’s see what we can make out. Have you heard the heartbeat yet?”

Elizabeth looked at Jason and he squeezed her hand a bit harder, then kissed her knuckles. “Sort of. But we haven’t—this is our first ultrasound.”

They’d both heard the heartbeat the night she’d been shot, but this—this would be the first time they’d see the baby.

“Your chart says that you conceived around September 2?” the tech asked, moving the wand across Elizabeth’s belly.”

“That—yes. So I should be about seven weeks along.”

The tech turned the monitor towards them — a dark screen with gray specks — and a little pulsating ball in the middle. “There you go—” She pointed. “Around ten millimeters long. Not much to see at this point, guys, but then again — no news is good news. And—” She tapped a few more keys, and a sound began to echo in tandem with the image on the screen.

Elizabeth opened her mouth, but her throat felt too tight for any words. She looked Jason, wondering if he could see what she saw — if it was the same for him.

“I’ll leave you both alone for few minutes. See if Dr. Meadows is ready to see you.” The tech left the room.

“Can you—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Can you—”

“It—yeah. I can. I wasn’t—” He dipped his head down, took another deep breath, then looked at her, tears in the corner of his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d be able to see anything. Or know what I was looking at it, but that’s—it’s moving at the same time—That’s our baby.”

“That’s our baby,” she echoed, her smile spreading. “It’s the first time—I mean, before, when I heard it, I was just so happy that it was there, that the baby—but it’s still here. We’re really doing this.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering. “We’re having a baby.” Jason pulled back, brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it again. “We’re going to be okay,” he told her. “Whatever happens.”

She laid back against the headrest, still smiling. “All three of us,” she told him. “We’re going to be just fine.”

A Bedroom

Every move he made, Ric had to bite down hard to avoid crying out. Just walking in laps between the edge of his bed and the dresser caused him to break out in sweat and his arms and legs to tremble—

But if he was ever going to get out of this goddamn mess, he’d need to have his movement back. Damn Sonny for shooting him in the back, though it could have been worse. He could have been paralyzed.

Or shot in the head.

All things considered, Ric had gotten off light, though it didn’t feel that way right now, as he clutched the end of the bed, sweat sliding down his back.

When he could move around, he could stop planning his next move. His escape. It was just his rotten luck that Luis had faked his own death, using his poor dumb bastard of a brother to cover his tracks. Ric should have seen that coming — hadn’t he spent nearly five years trying to stay one step ahead of Luis Alcazar?

He hobbled back to the bed, laid back down, panting. It should have been his ticket to success, he thought bitterly. Taking advantage of Luis’s death to secure his own future, to use all that wonderful research Ric had compiled for Luis’s benefit—

People really were so gullible. It was such a delight to see where you could lead someone if you left the right bread crumbs, or what you could make them believe if you played the right notes.

Ric had secured his continued existence by claiming to be the brother Sonny had never known about, figuring that Sonny wouldn’t try very hard to fact check the story. After all, wouldn’t he find the same details Ric had? Adela Woods had, in fact, worked for the cleaning company Trevor Lansing’s law firm had employed. Surely, they’d known each other, and Trevor had seduced more than his fair share of the help over the years.

And right now, Luis was busy planning a way to use Elizabeth’s relationship to Sonny against him, leaving Ric free to plot his next move. It was perfect, Ric thought, tying one woman to both men. Even better than using Courtney.

Ric would have deployed this sooner, but he’d thought Jason would be too skeptical. Only a few weeks after meeting Jason, he’d known it would never work. Within a few weeks, Jason would have had someone find all the evidence that supported Elizabeth Imogene Webber as the youngest daughter of Jeffrey and Caroline Webber, with zero connection to the state of New York outside of her grandparents.

But Luis? He’d bought the story hook, line, and sinker over a year ago, and had never bothered to verify it. Now he’d been holed up for two days, discarding all kinds of ideas and schemes to use the information.

People wanted to believe the impossible. The improbable. The incredible. Thank God for stupid people. They really did make the world go round.

September 1, 2024

Update Link: Warning Shots – Part 36

Happy Sunday! Started an hour later tonight so I could eat dinner first 😛 I usually finish writing at 6, then start dinner but decided to treat myself to some takeout 🙂

Well, this is the last part of Warning Shots. Started as a little detour, and then I got caught up. Really had no idea where this one was going after a few parts and definitely even times I opened up my Scriv file and had nothing planned so if it felt messy and off the rails, well, it was. I did that a few times with Chain Reaction, too, this summer. It was fun, lol, but I don’t know if I wanna do that again.

Tomorrow’s the very last day of summer break before the kids come back, so I have a lot of things to do. Luckily, there’s no Phillies game on to distract me, so I will definitely have time for Flash Fiction tomorrow. It should be posted at 6 or 7. See you then!

This entry is part 36 of 36 in the Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 70 minutes.

Late June 2000

By the time the storm reached Cuba, the winds had weakened, and it wasn’t much more than a run of the mill storm. But it had left behind a terrible path of destruction across West Plana Cays. Most of the houses on the coast had severe structural damage—shattered windows, battered roofs. The roads still couldn’t be traversed with vehicles, so by the time Luke and Sonny reached the island early the next afternoon, the only way to get out to the house was a row boat.

“You know, maybe next time you decide you want a private kingdom, you just go buy a castle in Eastern Europe,” Luke muttered, slapping at a mosquito on his neck. “Little bloodsuckers.”

“Not too far now,” Marco, the local sheriff, murmured from the back of the boat, operating the engine.

Sonny ignored him, kept his eye on the terrain ahead. The road up to the house was completely flooded, pieces of palm trees and other vegetation as far as the eye could see. Finally, as they came around one of the turns, Sonny spied the corner of the house—and then he saw what remained of the garage.

“There—there—the house—” He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was mostly intact, though any visible window was shattered and a tree was laying on top—it hadn’t broken through.

Marco guided the boat to higher land until it glided to stop. Luke and Sonny both bounded out, heading up the stairs, pushing through the front door.

Inside, they found Jason sitting on one of the stools, and Elizabeth behind him, checking his head. “Ow,” he muttered, then looked over the trio entering the house. “Uh, hey. I didn’t think you’d get down here so fast.”

Sonny raised his brows as he looked around the room—blankets and pillows had been strewn across the room, a table had been turned over. “Was there a war?” He gestured at Jason. “What happened to your head?”

“Concussion—” Elizabeth started.

“Headache—” Jason said at the same time, but when she just looked at him, he sighed. “I hit it pretty good on the pillar last night.”

“You were unconscious,” she reminded him, but rolled her eyes. She stepped out from behind him, and Sonny’s eyes honed in on the scratches and bruises covering her arms and legs.

“Did you get in a fight with a rosebush?”

“No. No, um—” Elizabeth rubbed her arm. She looked over at Marco. “Um, the guy from the bar that night. He broke in. We’d lost power and the batteries in the lantern died, and Jason got hurt—I had to—I didn’t have a choice.”

Marco frowned. “A choice?”

“You can find him out by the garage,” Elizabeth said. “That’s—I got lost trying to get back to the house and it was really dark, so yeah, I actually did fall. But—I’m sorry. I didn’t want to—but he was just going to keep coming back.”

Marco went to the front of the house, peered outside. “He broke in?”

“He had a bat,” Jason said flatly. “And he broke in twice. There won’t be any trouble with that, will there, Marco?”

“Uh, no. No, of course not. I’ll—” the man swallowed hard. “I’ll handle it.”

Sonny smacked Luke in the chest. “And you were worried.”

——

Emily hopped back and forth from one foot to the other, watching as numbers above the elevator doors lit up with each number. “Come on, come on! Why do elevators take so long?”

As soon as they slid open, she darted out and around the corner, knocking on the door. It was yanked open on the second knock, revealing a scowling Elizabeth.

“I told you that your brother has a concussion, and you come in banging on the door like you were the one running for their lives,” she muttered, closing the door after Emily came in. “Do you know how hard it is to get him to rest?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Emily squeezed her best friend hard. “I was just so scared, okay? I woke up in the middle of the night, and I saw that huge storm covering that tiny little island and I couldn’t even breath!”

“Okay, but now neither can I—” Elizabeth managed, and Emily stepped back.

“I’m sorry. I’m just glad to see you, and I’m glad Jason’s okay. When you told me on the phone that you guys were, like, in the Bahamas, and what happened with that guy—and Luke said they think maybe he was the one behind the shooting at the club—that’s so crazy, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s all—” Elizabeth forced a smile, folded her arms. “It was a really insane night. I can’t believe he hid out on the property during a hurricane just so he could—” She looked away, took a deep breath. “But it’s okay. It’s over now.”

“Are—I mean, are you okay? He didn’t hurt you?”

“Hurt? No. He grabbed me from behind, and that was scary, but—” Elizabeth wandered across the room, a bit restless. “I keep running it back in my head, trying to see if there was something else I could have done. I…killed him, Emily.”

Emily hesitated. “Well, yeah, but he didn’t leave you a choice. You said it yourself. He waited out a hurricane, and Jason could have died! He hit his head and he was unconscious. What were you supposed to do?”

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth sat on the sofa. “I didn’t think twice, you know. I hit him with the bat the first time, and he went down. I could have kept running—”

“Where?” Emily sat next to her. “You were on an island with flooded roads and you’re telling me you would have left my brother behind?”

“No. No.”

Emily took her hands, squeezed. “You fought back, and you saved Jason’s life. Yours, too. I’m definitely happy about that part. Both parts. I’m so proud of you.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “Yeah, I guess I did save his life. It just seems so surreal. All of it, really. All these months, it’s like some kind of fever dream.”

Emily frowned, tilted her head. “But a good one, right? I mean, you’re not having regrets. Not that I know anything for sure, but you’re here at the penthouse with Jason, and Sonny definitely could have hired a private nurse or whatever. So, like, you’re happy with where things are, aren’t you?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, and her expression relaxed. When she opened her eyes, her smile deepened, seemed more genuine. “Yeah, I guess happy’s a good word. It’s just—” She furrowed her brows. “I remember standing in the garage that night, on Valentine’s Day, with the dress I’d put on my credit card, listening to Jason tell me that Lucky was out of town. It was like stepping outside of myself, watching my life happen to me. I would have forgiven him,” she murmured, more to herself.

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.” Elizabeth looked at Emily. “It would have been so easy to let myself stay in that bubble, taking what Lucky was willing to give and calling it love. Changing myself so that he wouldn’t leave. It was more than I’d ever had before, and I think part of me didn’t believe I deserved better.”

She looked towards the stairs, then back to her friend. “But I did. And I do. I’m not the girl who lied about a silly dance. Or who crawled out the bushes. I’m not even who I was when I was standing with you outside the club. Because I kept moving forward. Thank you. For pushing me.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did. Jason might have been the one to remind me that I didn’t have to settle, but you knew I needed to hear it. And you knew that I wouldn’t listen to anyone else. Thank you. For not giving up. For…I guess choosing me. You’re really the best friend I could have ever had.”

Emily pulled her in for a hug. “Ditto. But you hurt my brother, I’ll rip your hair out.”

Elizabeth laughed, and then Emily pumped her for more details about the rest of the island stay. After sharing as much as she was able to—or willing to—Elizabeth walked Emily to the elevator, then went upstairs.

Jason was laying on his back, one arm folded over his middle, the other laying along his side, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. She crawled carefully onto the bed next to him, laid her head on the pillow.

This time last year, Emily had suggested Elizabeth room with her for the fall semester and within days, her grandfather had pulled all the strings to get it done. Such a simple choice. How could any of them know it was the first domino to fall in a line that would end up with Elizabeth laying next to her best friend’s brother, halfway to being in love with him. Though maybe it was a bit more than halfway, she thought, and wondered where’d they’d go, where they’d end up.

She didn’t have the first clue, but oh, man, it was going to be a lot of fun to find out.

——

June had passed like molasses, but the hot and humid months of July sped by at almost double the speed. Jason recovered from his injuries, and pretty soon, life got back to normal — well, a new normal as Elizabeth had a whole new set of interesting problems to solve.

How many nights a week was too many to spend at your boyfriend’s place? What were safe topics for Jason and her grandmother to talk about at the dinner Audrey Hardy had tricked Elizabeth into agreeing to attend? And how did she navigate being fond of Jason’s family when he couldn’t stand most of them?

It was the last question that was bothering Elizabeth as the end of July approached and she headed outside to check on her tables in the court yard. Alan and Monica Quartermaine loved Elizabeth, mostly because of her friendship with Emily. And Edward and Lila were always inviting her for dinner, though Emily thought Edward was laying it on thick to get to Jason. Jason still got that grimace when he thought of most of the Quartermaines—

And that was before you even took into the account his sister-in-law. Carly had already hated Elizabeth even before her status in Jason’s life had officially changed, and Elizabeth was sure the blonde was plotting something—

She didn’t even realize Lucky was in the courtyard with his mother until she was outside. Their eyes met, and she hesitated, slightly before approaching the table. “Laura, Lucky. It’s nice to see you.”

“Well, that’s nice of you to say.” Laura beamed. “You know, Bobbie told me that you’re having a show in a few weeks. I can’t wait to go see it.”

“I’m pretty excited, too,” Elizabeth said. “What can I get you guys?”

She took the order, then went back into the diner. She busied herself behind the counter, and only realized Lucky had come in when she heard him clear his throat. Elizabeth lifted her gaze to his. “Did you guys forget something?”

“Just a question.” Lucky leaned forward, that cool smirk on his face she’d once loved so much and now mostly wanted to slap. “Are you still going to pretend I wasn’t right about you and Jason?”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, then closed it, giving the question a bit more weight than it really deserved. She remembered telling Jason on the island that the first time she had noticed Jason was when he’d said her name in the dorm room that first day—six months before she and Lucky had broken up.

“I don’t know,” Elizabeth said, and she knew her answer had surprised Lucky. He rocked back on his heels. “I know that you were there for me when I needed you, and I’ll always be grateful for how you helped and supported me.”

Lucky grimaced, looked away. “I’m sorry. You know. I really am, about what I said that night. I didn’t mean it—”

“Only you know that for sure,” she said softly, and he nodded a bit reluctantly. “But you’re the one that kept going with it for months. I know you kept agitating Jason, spreading rumors about me that weren’t true or fair. I expected better, Lucky. I deserved better.”

“I didn’t—I was mad at him—”

“You should really think about why you had to use me to do that. Why you went after your mother when you were furious with your father,” Elizabeth reminded him, and Lucky made a face. “The thing is, Lucky, Jason or not, I think maybe you and I were always going to end up like this. Because you don’t like me.”

“That’s not—”

“You did not like me before that night,” Elizabeth said, and he closed his mouth. “That’s okay. I broke into little pieces, and you held my hand while I stitched myself back together. And you liked that part, I know you did. But you didn’t like who I turned out to be. I like me, Lucky. I’m sorry you don’t.”

Lucky looked at her for a long moment, then tapped the counter lightly. “Yeah, okay, maybe there’s truth in that. I didn’t want it to be that way. So maybe we just…we just walk away.”

“That’s all I’ve been trying to do since February. You’re the one who keeps coming back. You should go back to your table, Lucky. I’ll bring out your orders when they’re ready.”

——

Before long, it was the night of her showing at the Jerome Gallery. Her own wall at a prestigious gallery. Elizabeth felt jittery for days leading up to the night, agonizing over the pieces she’d chosen, changing them constantly.

But finally, she’d made the selections, and now she was standing here, Emily at her side, practically bouncing on her feet.

“I bet you’re going to make a million dollars tonight,” Emily said. She traced the little plaque on the wall that read Elizabeth Webber, artist underneath one of the paintings. “That’s you, Liz. On the wall. Where everyone can see it.”

“I know.” She looked towards the door. The smile she already wore broadened.

A few moments, Jason came up to her, tugging at the collar of his button up shirt. “Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He slid an arm around her waist, kissed her cheek. “How’s it going so far?”

She beamed up at him. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

 

THE END