Once more into the crowd
Temptation wears you out
Go home, your heart’s too loud
Always alone
It’s no surprise that all the things I like
Are making me a ghost
I should have never started killing time,
I can’t go slow
– Seen Enough, Dryer

---

Late 2011

WSB Geneva HQ: Office

Andre fought back a swell of anxiety as he walked into the new research director’s office. He knew that some of the research he had proposed over the last year had made him a target for laughter and ridicule among his coworkers, but this was the WSB. Nothing should be too out of the norm for this organization.

But the new research director’s request to meet with him personally had Andre wondering if his latest proposal hadn’t just been out of the norm, but more akin to jumping off a cliff.

“Mr. Cassadine,” Andre said as the older man stood from the desk and offered a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Dr. Maddox, no, the pleasure is mine.” Victor Cassadine shook his hand warmly. “I was grateful you could take the time to meet with me. Have a seat.”

Andre sat, wondering if the man would be so polite to someone he was planning to fire. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, your latest proposal came to my attention as I was looking over the research programs here.” Victor held it up. “I’ve been interested in the science of memory for a very long time, and I have to say, I was quite intrigued by your hypothesis.”

“You were intrigued,” Andre repeated.

“I’ve always wondered what makes a man,” Victor continued. “If memories are the essence of our personality or if there’s something else more elemental that gives us life. The loss of memory, the creation—it’s all very fascinating.” He paused. “You suggest in this proposal that you think you might be able to map and transfer memories.”

“Yes. I thought the technique would have a lot of medical benefits,” Andre said. “Particularly for dementia and Alzheimer’s—”

“Yes, yes, of course. But I was thinking of how useful it would be to the WSB. Ultimately what you’re discussing is memory extraction,” Victor continued, “and since memory can be such a fallible thing, it would be quite interesting if we were able to simply extract the memory we need. Think of how much more useful witness interrogations would be.”

“I—” Struck by that turn, Andre simply stared at him. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“Of course, if the technique proves possible,” Victor continued, “we have no problem with you licensing and allowing the medical field to use it, but the WSB has its own needs.” He arched a brow. “And if we’re to fund a practical application of your theory—”

“Practical,” Andre repeated, his heart beginning to pound. Practical. He could get everything he needed to finally bring Kita back to him. “What does the WSB need me to do?”

“I think the question, Dr. Maddox, is what are you willing to do?”

Friday, October 27, 2017

Port Charles Bus Station: Entrance

He missed the first transfer scheduled out of Syracuse, which meant it was just after one in the afternoon when the bus pulled into the terminal and the passengers disembarked.

He’d watched the downtown skyline draw closer as the bus had traveled towards Port Charles—the rise of ELQ and the hotels in the center of town, and the cluster of buildings surrounding the park—the familiar landscape of the city he’d called home his entire life.

Now that he was here—now that he was home—Jason had second thoughts about what to do next. Should he contact Sonny directly? Should he try to call Sam? Should he try to call someone who they might not expect and have them reach out to throw off the scent?

He found a pay phone in the alley next to the bus station and nearly lifted the receiver off the hook to call Elizabeth—but what if her number had changed? What if it was like Sam when he’d tried to call in Russia? What if Jason was wrong and someone was watching Elizabeth? He didn’t want to put her boys in danger.

No. No. He snatched his hand back. Better to stick to the plan. Better to go home. The penthouse was his. It had always been there. The security at the Towers wouldn’t have changed, would it?  Sam was still there with Danny. She’d want safety.

He’d go home. Just like he planned.

And then everything would be okay.

Greystone Manor: Living Room

At the same time, miles away, Jason thought he’d finally figured out what he’d been doing wrong all these years. As he watched Sonny pour the glasses of champagne and pass them to his wife Carly, to Sam—

Jason wondered why it had taken so many years to walk away from this life, from this partnership. Sure, when he’d been young and single, it hadn’t felt like a option. He didn’t know any other way of life. But after Michael, after getting a taste of what it was to be a father—why hadn’t Jason leaped at the opportunity sooner? He’d wasted so much time with Jake and Danny, with Sam — he wasn’t going to have those regrets with his daughter.

He smiled down at Sam as she lifted the champagne to her lips, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tonight,” she said in that low, husky voice that he fell in love with more every time he heard it. “It’s the start of the rest of our lives.”

“The best part,” Jason promised. He tipped his champagne against hers, then turned to Sonny and Carly, whose smiles were as false as their friendship. He knew they were both angry that he’d finally decided to put himself first, to put his family first. Sonny was better at pretending than Carly—he might actually come around and see this was for the best — but Carly was already giving Sam dirty looks.

Sam squeezed his elbow, and he offered her a half-smile before focusing again on Sonny and Carly. “I appreciate the well wishes and your understanding of why it has to be this way,” Jason told them. He held out his glass. “I want you to come to the relaunch party tonight to show there’s no hard feelings.”

The corners of Sonny’s mouth tightened, but he tipped his glass against Jason’s. “Of course. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve a fresh start. You’ve taken one too many bullets for me.”

“I’ll say,” Sam murmured.

“Funny since you were the reason he got shot this time,” Carly said sweetly as she glared at Sam over the rim of her glass.

“Carly—” Sonny and Jason said in unison, both of them wincing.

“What? She shoots you, then gets Jason shot, and we’re all fine with it because the cats made her do it?” Carly said to Sonny acidly. “Now we’re losing our best friend because she flicks her little doe eyes—”

Sam narrowed her eyes. “Considering you’re the woman that made sure Franco got all the charges against him dropped, then nearly married him, I’d think you’d understand how disease can screw with your brain—”

Carly tightened her grip on her champagne glass. “How dare you—”

“I see we’ve stopped even pretending to like Sam,” Jason muttered. He set the champagne glass down. “Sonny, you’re welcome to come, but—”

“It’s my hotel.” Carly lifted her chin. “And considering she’s never had a legitimate job last more than a week, how are you even planning to run a media company with her? Neither one of you has a clue—”

Jason felt the lick of embarrassment crawl up his spine even as a voice in his mind whispered that she was right, that he was making a fool of himself, that this was a terrible idea, that this wasn’t him, this wasn’t right, don’t you know it doesn’t feel right—

He shook his head, clearing his head, focusing on what he knew was real. “I’m smart, and what I don’t know, I can learn.”

“But—”

“It’s his choice, Carly.” Sonny rubbed his chin with his thumb, studied Jason for a long moment. “And maybe we’ve been holding you back, trapping you with who we think you should be. You were satisfied once with this life—”

“I was never satisfied,” Jason bit out. “I just didn’t think I had a choice. This was a bad idea,” he told Sam.

“I tried to tell you, but you wanted to make nice.” Sam shrugged. “Look, Carly’s just jealous you won’t be running to her beck and call.” She stepped in front of Jason, blocking his view of his friends, fastened her eyes on him. “Everyone said you couldn’t do things after the accident, right? And you didn’t listen then. Now everyone thinks we can’t do this.”

“Everyone?” Sonny said with an arch of his brow.

“Elizabeth expressed some doubts,” Jason said dryly. “But she also thinks Franco is a good guy, so you know what her opinion means to me these days.”

Carly narrowed her eyes. “Is that a dig at me?”

“Take it however you want.” Jason took Sam’s hand in his. “You can support me, Carly, or not. But this is going to happen.”

“I think it’s insane,” Carly repeated. “But—” She closed her eyes. “Sonny’s right. And I’m trying not to be selfish all the time. Trying,” she repeated through clenched teeth when Sam snorted. “You should give it a shot sometime, you little—”

Sonny grabbed her arm, gave her a shut up look, then looked at Jason. “We’ll be there, and I’ll talk to Carly. You’ve always had my back, Jase. I’m gonna do the same for you.”

“That’s all I want to hear.” Jason looked at Sam. “Let’s go. We have a lot to do before tonight.” He led her into the foyer. “I need to stop at the hospital before I come home to get dressed, so I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll be there.” Sam pressed her lips to his. “We can do this,” she told him. “I can’t wait to start this next chapter, Jason.”

“I love you,” Jason said, kissing her again, ignoring that voice screaming, she doesn’t believe you either, she knows, she knows, she knows this is wrong, you know this is wrong, this isn’t right—

He took a deep breath. “I’ll see you at home.”

General Hospital: Art Therapy Room

Elizabeth scanned the text from Cam asking about the party that night and Franco’s plans, then knocked on the open door of the art therapy room where Franco was cleaning brushes in the sink. “Hey, do you have a minute?”

Franco glanced over, grunting and nodding. “Yeah, but just a few. I have kids coming in about ten minutes.”

“That’s fine. My break’s almost over anyway.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m still going to the party tonight—”

“I’m not,” he cut in, tossing another brush into the sink with a clunk. He reached for a towel to dry his hands. “So you can save your breath.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that,” Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes. “You weren’t invited. Cameron is going to stay home with Jake and Aiden, but he wanted to invite some friends over—”

“So—?” Franco lifted his brows and gestured with a hand. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“If you’d stop interrupting me and let me finish, I’ll tell you,” Elizabeth said as she narrowed her eyes. “The house is going to be filled with teenagers. He’s inviting Joss, Trina, and Oscar, so you might want to make yourself scarce—”

“If this is to force me into going—”

“Again, you weren’t invited, and I’m definitely not asking Jason for any favors where you’re concerned—” Elizabeth pulled her vibrating beeper from her waistband. “Cam asked me if he could have the house to himself tonight, and I said he could as long as he watched his brothers. So find something else to do—”

“You’re kicking me out of my own house—”

“I’m not—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, counted to ten, and prayed for the patience to deal with this. “You’re deliberately trying to pick an argument with me, and I’m tired. I told you I’d keep your damn secret about Betsy—”

“Hey—” Franco strode forward and tugged her away from the door, closing it behind her. “Don’t say that too loudly—”

“I’m not telling anyone Jason has a secret twin brother who died,” Elizabeth said, “‘And it’s not like Jason would even take your word for it. Or mine, for that matter. He’s only just started talking to me again—”

“Yeah, we know how important it is for you to be on Jason’s good side,” Franco muttered. “Gotta have him in reserve, right?”

Elizabeth stared at him. “We just had this argument yesterday. Are you really that angry Jason no longer hates me for lying to him about who he was? I thought you were happy people were finally starting to forgive me—”

“I am—”

“Because I made a mistake, and I paid for it,” Elizabeth continued. “My boys paid for it. And it’s been hard on them since Gram died in June—” She faltered, the loss still so sharp it nearly took her breath away. “It’s taken two years to get past that lie—”

“Don’t be so paranoid. I don’t care what you do with Jason. Just stop making me try to like him—”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Elizabeth said, exhausted by the whole conversation. “I just wanted to tell you Cam was having friends over.”

“And that he doesn’t want me there. Why doesn’t that bother you? Everyone in this town hates me, Elizabeth. Including your kid. I don’t see you taking my side in this,” Franco said her bluntly. “Why didn’t you just tell him no when he asked? You keep telling me you want people to see I’ve changed. How about you try telling Cam that once in a while?”

Elizabeth bristled. “Don’t tell me how to raise my son—”

“Well, it’s not like there’s anyone else lining up to do it,” he snapped. “Maybe everyone knows something I don’t.”

She stared at him, then rubbed her face. “Sometimes,” she murmured, “I think you liked it better when I was the town pariah.”

Franco winced. “Elizabeth—”

“My break’s over.” She pulled the door open and left, unsurprised when he didn’t follow.

She had a shift to finish, and then she was going to pick her boys up after school. All she needed were her boys and her job.

Everyone else could go to hell.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

The security at Harborview Towers had all but disappeared in the years he’d been gone. There’d been no guards in the parking garage or the lobby. Nothing blocking him—or anyone else—from reaching the penthouse level.  Jason popped the lock on the penthouse, then slid the tools he’d purchased in New York City into his back pocket.

He walked into the penthouse, then stopped. The pool table by the windows was gone, and the walls had been repainted. The furniture had been replaced.

Jason swallowed hard, then took another step. There were photos on the mantel he didn’t recognize. The last time he’d been in this room, there had just been photos of Michael and Morgan. He had always kept one of Jake in his back pocket —

He reached for it now out of habit, but it was long gone. Just like his son.

There were nearly a dozen frames now scattered across the mantel, some jumbled together. Some were of Sam’s sisters and Alexis, but then he saw Sam was standing with a baby and with a small blond boy that must be Danny. He would have just turned five—

And there was a wedding photo. Jason picked it up, took in the sight of Sam with another man. She was smiling. Happy.

Jason exhaled slowly, then placed the frame back on the mantel. He looked back around the room.

He’d known it had been five years. Of course he had. But he’d lost track of what that really meant. He didn’t realize until he’d walked through the door that part of him had expected to find the penthouse looking exactly as it had the night he’d left Sam and Danny upstairs and gone down to the docks.

Jason walked back across the living room—looked blankly at the playpen he’d missed the first time he’d come into the room. He’d had a desk there, but it was gone now. Replaced by more evidence that Sam had moved on in the last five years.

He was nearly at the door when he heard a voice in the hall—Sam’s voice and a younger boy. He winced, then rushed over to the terrace, making his way onto the balcony and closing the door just before the front door opened. He left it slightly ajar to listen for an opportunity to leave.

“Guess what, guess what?” a little boy asked. Through the blinds, Jason caught sight of Sam smiling, an infant in her arms.

“What?”

“I got all the stars!” the little boy declared with a wide grin. Sam tousled his blonde hair, then disappeared slightly. When she came back into view, the baby was gone, so she had probably set her in the playpen.

“All of the stars? Let me see your folder—” Sam held out a hand, and the boy shoved something into it. A bright green folder with DANNY scrawled across the back rose into Jason’s eye line. “Oh, wow! Danny, your teacher says you know your alphabet forwards and backwards! That is so awesome!”

“Can I please please go to your party tonight?” Danny asked, hopping up and down. “Please, please, with a cherry on top! I’ll be so good, and Scout won’t even be lonely because she’ll be asleep, and—”

“No, sweetie, no kids allowed—”

“Oh, come on, Mom—” Danny sighed. “Please?”

“No, but tomorrow your father and I will do something really special with you, I promise. Go into the kitchen,” Sam told him, “and get your snack. I’ll put away your things, and we’ll get started on your homework.”

“Okay, but I only got math, Mommy! And it’s so easy!”

Sam laughed, and Jason watched as Danny zipped out of view. She hung up his jacket in the closet, but then the door opened, and the man he recognized from the wedding photo came in.

“Hey—”

“Hey!” Sam kissed him lightly. “Danny’s in the kitchen. He got all the stars,” she told him seriously. “And he’s going to ask you if he can come tonight.”

“Well, maybe for a few—” The man grinned as Sam glared at him. “Oh, he’s gonna try to divide and conquer. He gets that from you.”

“I already told him no, so—” Sam sighed. “I better go with you. You never say no to him. You’re such a pushover.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing—”

Their voices faded as they went into the kitchen. Jason waited a minute but decided this was his best chance. He carefully opened the door and hurried across the living room, stopping only a moment to look at the little girl in the playpen. She was less than a year old with dark curls. She held up a stuffed giraffe, smiling at him.

Jason exhaled slowly, opened the door, then left. He’d come to the penthouse first instead of going to Sonny because he’d wanted to go home.

But this wasn’t home.

Not anymore.

Metro Court Hotel: Lobby

“What time do you want me to come back and get you?”

The sound of her eldest son’s voice from around the corner drew Carly’s attention as she scribbled her name at the bottom of a contract and handed it back to her assistant. Michael’s only reason to be at the hotel at this time of day would be if he was here with that woman.

The woman who had slipped and slid into their family like an ally and a friend only to plunge the knife into Carly’s back and try to destroy everything—

No, the last thing Carly wanted today was a run-in with her.

“I can just meet you here for the party,” came the soft reply. “You have to pick up your sister and drop her at Cameron’s, and I don’t want to run into your mother.”

Damn right, Carly thought to herself as she walked closer to the corner, carefully to keep out of sight.

“No, that’s a good point. Thanks for coming tonight. It’s weird,” Michael said, “and I don’t really understand what my uncle’s up to, but I guess if this is what he wants—”

“I mean, he did just get shot, Michael—”

“He’s been shot before, Nelle. This feels different.”

“He’s not as young as he used to be, and he’s got three kids now. Maybe having Scout woke him up.”

“Maybe. Do you want me to come up, or are you okay with Nina on your own?”

Nelle Benson’s sigh was deep and wistful. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. They found the necklace, didn’t they? They know I didn’t do it.”

Carly lifted her brows, intrigued.

“I’m glad they found it before we had to leave,” Michael continued, “but I can’t believe Nina would take the maid’s side over yours—”

“It’s fine, Michael. The maid was wrong; the necklace is back where it’s supposed to be, and I have a deadline to meet if I’m going to leave on time tonight. I’ll see you at the party.”

Carly stepped back from the corner just as Michael appeared. He squinted at her, then scowled. “How long have you been standing there?” he demanded.

“I was signing contracts with Jenny,” Carly said. She folded her arms. “Did the little bitch go upstairs, or is she lurking around corners, too?”

“She’s at work,” Michael muttered. “Don’t start, Mom—”

“I don’t need to start. Sounds like the world is catching on to Nelle Benson without my help. What did she do this time?”

“There was a misunderstanding on the Morocco trip,” Michael said, clenching his teeth. “It’s fine now.”

“Uh huh.” Carly shrugged. “Well, keep her away from me tonight, and we won’t have any problems.”

Port Charles Park

Jason pulled his hat down over his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping his head bowed as he walked through the park. He could have boosted a car to get across town, but he hadn’t stolen a car in more than a decade and wasn’t sure if his skills would be rusty. The last thing he needed was to be caught.

He wanted to get to Greystone, to talk to Sonny. Sonny would know what to do. He could count on Sonny.

“It’s not my fault!” a voice exclaimed from around the corner. Jason stopped short, then ducked behind a bush. A little boy with brown, curly hair walked past him, clenching his hand around a baseball tucked into his palm. He turned and glared at whoever was behind him. “Charlotte’s so mean, Mommy!”

“I know,” a woman said with a sigh, and the hair on Jason’s arms rose up. He knew that voice. He focused on the little boy again. Could that be Aiden?

“Why do I gotta pretend she’s not?”

“Because if you’re not nice to her,” a boy said, “she’ll shove you over the parapet—”

“Cameron!”

Jason just managed to get out of view before the group walked past. Elizabeth was glaring at the oldest boy with her—Cameron—who would be fifteen by now. His hair was dark blonde, and he was taller than his mother—not that it would be difficult to achieve that. Cameron turned back to face Elizabeth, his grin stretched across his face.

“What did I say about parapet jokes?” Elizabeth asked. She set a pumpkin on a nearby picnic table and put her hands on her hips. She didn’t look much older than she had the last time he’d seen her—the day she’d told him the truth about Danny being Sam’s son, admitting that her grief over losing Jake had broken her in ways that neither of them had really understood until then.

Her hair was shorter, and she’d lightened it to nearly the shade it had been the summer they’d conceived their little boy. Jason’s stomach twisted as he brought back the image of his son, their baby, who had never made it to his fourth birthday.

“Not to make them around Grandma Laura,” a fourth voice piped in. A boy, older than Aiden but younger than Cameron, walked into Jason’s eye line and set another pumpkin, a smaller one, on the table. He had sandy blonde hair and light blue eyes with a smile that he’d inherited from his mother.

“Jake.” Elizabeth pressed a fist to her temple as the blood in Jason’s veins pounded. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m the middle child, Mom,” Jake told her. “It’s not my job to help. It’s my job to be funny. Cameron’s supposed to be in charge.”

“Then we’re all doomed,” Elizabeth retorted. She dismissed her older boys and looked at Aiden. “Look, you’re right. Charlotte is a pain in the ass, and I’m sorry about that. Your Aunt Sarah was a giant pain in my ass the entire time we were growing up. Do your best, get through these years, and if you’re really lucky, the day will come when you never ever have to see her again.”

“That — ” Cameron slung an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “That right there is what makes you the best mom. Because that is actually useful advice. Suck it up, Aiden. The world is full of idiots. You just gotta survive until one of you moves out of town.”

“Or pushes you off a cliff—”

“Jake—” Elizabeth threw up her hands. “Why do you do this?”

“Because it’s funny,” Jake said, seriously. His eyes were wide. “I mean, Mom, didn’t you say I get my sarcasm from you?”

“Right now, I’m wishing you got your father’s ability to be quiet,” Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes.

He’d listened to the entire exchange between the four of them, not understanding what he was hearing. How Jake could be standing in front of them — how Elizabeth could be there with all three of her boys —

But that was his son. Six years older than he should have been—ten years old—Jason swallowed hard, trying to take it in. Trying to process it.

“Oh, man!” Aiden said. “I dropped my baseball!”

“Why do you have a baseball?” Cameron wanted to know. “You hate sports—”

“Yeah, but I won it at school, and I beat Charlotte for it—”

“I see it!” Jake said at the same time Jason saw a baseball roll past him. He stood frozen to the spot as the little boy ran past him to grab it. He turned to face his mother, and Jason just stood there — less than six feet from his son.

His son.

Jake was alive.

As if sensing his presence, Jake turned, and their eyes locked. His face crumpled up in confusion. “Hey—”

“Jake?” Elizabeth said, her voice sharp. “What’s taking so long? Is something wrong—”

“Mom—”

Jason wanted to stay, wanted to see Elizabeth, wanted to ask her how this miracle had happened — but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t make sense of anything he’d seen in the last few hours, so he turned and left, disappearing around the corner just as Elizabeth and the other boys reached Jake’s side.

“Jake?” Elizabeth put a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Was someone there?”

“Yeah. It was the weirdest thing,” Jake said, looking up at her. “He looked like Dad.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Looked like—”

“But not Dad now,” Jake added. “Like before. Before his face got messed up.”

“Mom?” Cameron asked. She blinked, looked at him blankly. “Maybe you should take Jake to see Dr. Maddox.”

Jake scowled. “I’m not crazy!”

“I didn’t—” Cameron blanched. “I didn’t mean that, Jake, but—”

“No, it’s a good idea.” Elizabeth cleared her throat, looked around the corner where Jake had pointed. “Just-just give me a minute—”

She walked around the corner, but didn’t see anyone. She frowned, then looked back at Jake, who was glaring at his brother. “Cameron, can you do me a favor—”

“Yeah, just drop Aiden and me off at Kelly’s,” he said with a nod. “Jake, don’t give me that look. If you’re seeing your dad’s old face, then you should talk to Dr. Maddox. We ignored the signs last year.”

Jake subsided, his face falling. “Mom, I really did see him.”

“I know, baby,” Elizabeth said. She returned to his side, brushed his hair out of his eyes. He tilted his face up to look at her with his father’s beautiful eyes. “And we’ll talk to Andre about it to be safe, but it was probably someone who sort of looked like him.”

She glanced at Cameron, troubled. Neither of them had quite forgiven themselves for not seeing Jake’s slow descent the year before leading up to the scene at the Nurse’s Ball when he’d nearly unleashed a deadly toxin that could have killed them all. It had brought back too many memories of the Cassadines and Helena’s ill-fated Endgame nearly twenty years earlier.

Elizabeth was never going to let the Cassadines hurt her baby again. No matter what she had to do to protect him.

Wyndemere: Study

Valentin Cassadine wanted to reach through the phone line, drag this pissant doctor through it, then strangle him.

“Six has been awake since April, and you’re only telling me now because he escaped? How long has it been since he escaped? And why didn’t you tell me he was awake?”

“It’s been, uh, a few weeks. We were hoping to re-secure the property before—”

“You were covering your ass—” Valentin hissed, clenching his jaw. “He could be anywhere by now! He could—”

He could be in Port Charles. Damn it.

“Where are you?”

“New York City, sir. We traced him that far yesterday, but we thought he was probably heading home—”

“Oh, how fucking brilliant of you to realize a man gone for five years might try to come home—” Valentin’s scowl deepened as the office door opened, and his wife stepped in, her brows raised. “What?” he nearly snarled, but then he swallowed hard and pasted a smile on his face. “What is it, darling?”

“I was just wondering if you minded if I left early for the hotel,” Nina said, her eyes narrowing. “I have a few things to take care of after the Morocco trip, so—” She paused. “Is everything all right?”

Everything was on fire and falling apart, which was fucking infuriating since Valentin had been so close to finally getting everything he damn well deserved —

“Yes,” Valentin said. “I’ll meet you at the hotel tonight.”

“All right.” Nina glanced at him again over her shoulder, then left the door. Valentin focused on the phone.

“You get your ass to Port Charles now, and you better hope that you find Jason Morgan before he blows this all to hell!”

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