Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, enfold me
I am small and needy
Warm me up and breathe me
Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found
Yeah I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe
– Breathe Me, Sia

---

Wednesday, November 5, 2003

Port Charles Municipal Building: District Attorney’s Office

Scott Baldwin stepped aside to hold the door as Elizabeth Webber and Jason Morgan entered his office. He dragged a hand through his hair, then gestured at his conference table. “Have a seat, have a seat. I’ll tell you what we know.”

He grimaced slightly, taking a moment to note the irony of this moment. Six months ago, he would have killed to have Jason Morgan walking willingly into his office, but things were different now. His life wasn’t about putting Jason Morgan or Sonny Corinthos behind bars. Not anymore.

Well, it was still a little about making sure Corinthos rotted in hell for eternity, but Scott had turned the corner on Jason thanks to Bobbie Spencer and Elizabeth Webber, who seemed to think there was something worthwhile about Jason.

“I don’t understand how this happened,” Elizabeth said as she sat down. Jason sat next to her, keeping a careful eye on her. It had been only a month since she’d come face to face with serial rapist Vinnie Esposito and survived to tell the tale, even if she’d needed a baseball bat to escape him.

“He was supposed to be wearing an ankle monitor,” Jason said. His expression was bland, almost blank, one might say, but Scott had spent enough time with him to know that Morgan was livid—the way the corner of his eyebrow twitched slightly, the clench of his fist on the arm of his chair, the white knuckles.

“I know.” He exhaled and sat down. “I’ve spent most of the night trying to figure it out. We’re consulting with Crimson Pointe police, but their guys don’t have anything. All they can tell us is that Ric Lansing’s ankle monitor turned off around 8:42 PM last night. They contacted us about ten minutes later. By 9:30 PM, they’d performed a search of the entire Zacchara estate. No sign of him.”

Scott looked at Jason. “Thank you. For allowing your guards to talk to us freely.” He’d been stunned silly when two of Morgan’s men had willingly sat down with Taggert that morning to give statements but grateful nonetheless. “Cassadine’s security also said the same. They all had eyes on the front gates. Nothing stirred.”

“So, what’s next?” Elizabeth asked, her voice tight. She clenched her hands in her lap, stared down at the table. Jason reached over, took one of her fists in his, laced their fingers together, forcing her to relax. She glanced at him, then sighed as she returned her attention to Scott. “I mean, where are you looking? Are you looking?”

“We put out the APB last night and is running in all the major newspapers in the state this morning, even in New York City,” Scott continued. “We’re contacting the FBI to see if we can get their assistance, but since Ric wasn’t charged with anything federal, they’re limited at the moment until we have proof he’s crossed state lines.”

“But you don’t know anything,” Jason said flatly. “Nothing that you didn’t know last night. Ric disappeared, and no one can say where he is or might go.”

Scott met his eyes, then swallowed hard. It was insane to feel like he’d disappointed Jason Morgan, but he also knew that Morgan had let Ric live. He could have had the scumbag disposed of at any point in the last four months since Lansing had been arrested for kidnapping and attempted murder, among the other charges levied for what had happened to Elizabeth.

But Lansing had survived to be released on bail. He’d survived months in Crimson Pointe. If Morgan had wanted him dead, Scott knew Jason could have made it happen. Instead, he had let the case wind through the system.

Now the system had let Elizabeth down. Again.

“No, we don’t. I wish we did. But Lansing has resources that we don’t even know about. I’m sorry,” he told Elizabeth. “I wish—I don’t know—I wish we’d done something different.”

“If Carly and I had agreed to a deal,” Elizabeth said softly, “it might be over. He’d already be in Pentonville or Sing Sing.” She looked at Jason. “Were we wrong? Did we make a mistake?”

“No,” Jason told her simply. “You wanted a trial. You deserved it.”

She swallowed hard and looked back at Scott. “What about me and Carly? We’re the star witnesses against him. I know he was trying to discredit me during our divorce proceedings, but the judge ruled last week that he couldn’t force a property settlement I didn’t want. Ric was trying to delay the divorce so I couldn’t testify against him, I think. But they finalized it—I mean, they gave me a date when it’ll be over. Is that why he escaped now?”

“Maybe,” Scott allowed. “I don’t know. I can’t see what Ric will gain by going after either you or Carly. You might be my star witnesses, but you’re not the only ones. Bobbie and Nikolas both saw the panic room. Cody Paul and Cruz Rodriguez were there when you found the button. There’s the real estate agent, and the footage you gathered during the week Carly was gone—your statements are on the record as well.” He forced himself to smile. “You two are the icing on top of a very well-baked cake.”

He looked at Jason. “And I’m sure that Jason here has made you and Carly as safe as you can be. Especially after what happened in September.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth looked at Jason with a faint smile. “Yeah, I’m safe. I guess I was just—” She sighed. “I was hoping it would be over. We were going to trial next week—” She rubbed her temple.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I wish this could be different. I promise to keep you loop, okay?” Scott got to his feet and surprised himself by reaching out, extending a hand to Jason, who reluctantly shook it. “We’ll find him. Somehow.”

“I know you’ll try hard. Thanks, Scott.” She also shook his hand, then held it a moment longer. “I mean that. Thank you. For everything you’ve done since he was arrested.”

“I’m just sorry I don’t have better news for you today.” He clasped his other hand over their joined ones, enveloping her hand in both of his. “But you know, you should be proud. For taking down Floyd, standing up for yourself and the other women—and you’ve got a lot to look forward to, you know.” He smiled at her. “Take care of yourself and that baby. Leave Ric to us.”

“Thank you.”

He walked them out, then returned to his office to go over the case one more time, praying for a detail that he had missed.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac Scorpio grimaced as he hung up the phone. “Sorry,” he said to the city’s mayor-elect. “It’s crazy this morning with the Lansing case.”

“Yeah, I imagine.” Ned Ashton took a seat and studied Mac for a long moment. “How is that going? I don’t see Floyd stomping in to make demands.”

“No election left to win,” Mac said dryly. “He saw the writing on the wall and left me alone after the Esposito case wrapped up.” He tapped a pencil against the case report. “As for Lansing, we’re still waiting on some footage from red light cameras and speed traps in Crimson Pointe. Hoping for some sign of life. As of right now, it’s like Lansing disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

“Any chance that’s true?” Ned asked carefully. “Lansing, uh, made some enemies in this town.”

“If Morgan and Corinthos had wanted Lansing dead, he’d be dead,” Mac replied simply. “Scott got the impression they’d decided to let him live, at least through the trial. Elizabeth and Carly wanted to testify.”

“So it’s unlikely they did anything before their testimony.” Ned nodded. “I can understand that. I know how protective Jason is of Elizabeth, especially now. If he made her a promise, he’s not going back out. What about the other enemies? The Zaccharas?”

“I can’t see why Trevor and Anthony would bring all this crap on themselves right now,” Mac said. “If they wanted Ric dead, there were easier and cleaner ways. Right now, they’ve got authorities crawling over the estate with a fine-tooth comb. Better for all parties concerned if Ric is shanked in the shower at Sing Sing in a year or two.”

He shook his head. “No, I think Lansing took the chance and split. We’ve got the APB out, and media has been alerted. Baldwin’s working with the U.S. Attorney’s office in Syracuse to get federal help tracking him.”

“So you do know how to do this job,” Ned said, caustically. “It’s nice to see you actually doing something productive for a change.”

Mac exhaled slowly and took the hit. Ned, more than anyone, had earned the right to rake him over the coals whenever he wanted for what Mac had done.

It hadn’t felt so wrong five years ago when he’d quietly closed Elizabeth Webber’s rape case without further investigation. He’d believed Tom Baker had committed the crime and was on his way to jail. He couldn’t have known that Baker had falsely confessed to Elizabeth or that one of his own men had brutally raped her—

Or that Vinnie Esposito would rape six more women, including Ned’s daughter, Brooke Lynn, who had died by suicide earlier that summer.

He couldn’t have known it, but he knew he should have done more. At the very least, he should have done the right thing by Elizabeth five years ago. A DNA test would have excluded Tom Baker. It might not have stopped the later rapes, but maybe they could have caught Vinnie before he’d gone after Elizabeth again. Falsifying that lab report—it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

There was no way to know what might have been different, only to live with the consequences of his actions.

“Everyone wants Lansing brought in,” Mac said after a long moment. “I’d be surprised if he were still in the jurisdiction, but…” He trailed off.

“I’m not here for an update, but thank you for it all the same.” Ned got to his feet. “You know why I’m here.”

“I do.”

Ned’s handsome features twisted in a sneer. “Look at you, like a fucking martyr, ready to take your punishment like it will make a difference.” He shook his head. “It won’t. You can go quietly, you can go angrily, I don’t care which.”

Mac thought Ned did care—that he would prefer Mac to put up a fight and proclaim his innocence. He was searching for someone to blame, to be angry at. Somewhere to put all the energy, all the devastation from the loss of his daughter. He’d funneled it first into his campaign to replace Garrett Floyd as mayor, but now—

Now Mac wondered how Ned would go on without somewhere to focus that energy. Would he find comfort and solace in being mayor?

“I know what I did. I know it was wrong. There’s nothing I can ever do to make it right, Ned. I put myself in front of the job. I told myself I was doing it because I wanted to take care of my girls, but I should have seen all the other girls I let down.” He got to his feet. “I can throw a punch, I can yell at you. But I don’t want to. You’re right. I’m wrong.”

“Damn right. And I don’t care about your excuses. About your rationalizations. I take office on December 1.” Ned exhaled slowly. “I thought about demanding your resignation the same day, but the person replacing you can’t start until December 10.”

He looked at Mac. “You might know her. She’s been working in Pine Valley the last few years.”

Mac smiled faintly, then nodded as he looked down at his desk. “Anna,” he said quietly. He looked back up. “Anna Devane. That—you couldn’t do better than her.”

“I know. So—” Ned cleared his throat. “I need you to stay until she starts,” he muttered. “I almost wanted to let the department go without a commissioner for nine days because, hell, what difference would it make—but—” He shook his head. “Then Lansing jumped bail. And I know what he can do. What he’s already done. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t do everything I could to bring him in. So you’ll stay until she starts.”

“Of course.”

Ned went to the door, then stopped. He turned back to look at Mac, and Mac was startled to see that some of the hatred and anger had dissipated. “You know, I actually do believe you thought it was Tom Baker. You didn’t know a serial rapist was stalking the streets—”

“It’s my job to know,” Mac interrupted roughly. “I trusted Vinnie. I knew him back then. And he was—he wasn’t like that. Not where you could see.” He’d never seen the monster underneath.

“No. Some demons only come out in the dark. Keep me in the loop on the Lansing case.”

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Sonny’s Office

Sonny Corinthos scowled at his partner, then started to pace the room. “How the hell can they say they don’t know anything?” he demanded.

Jason slid his hands into his pockets and sighed. “Because they had even fewer eyes on the place than I did. Harry and Tito didn’t see anything, Sonny. Neither did the guy Nikolas had watching the place. If the ankle monitor was deactivated—”

“He had help,” Sonny snarled. He whirled to glare at Bernie Abrams, their business manager and adviser. “Have you contacted Anthony? What the hell does he have to say for himself?”

“Trevor told me the same thing they told the police,” Bernie replied. He flicked his eyes to Jason and then back to Sonny. “He went up to check on Ric when he didn’t come down for dinner. He wasn’t in his room. Last time he saw his son was around noon. They didn’t contact the police because it’s not their problem. The police were only notified when the ankle monitor went dead.”

“They’re lying,” Sonny muttered. He jabbed a finger at Jason. “If you’d let me kill this fucker months ago, we wouldn’t be in this position—”

Since Elizabeth had voiced a similar thought about wishing she’d let the whole thing be pleaded down, Jason didn’t argue with Sonny. He wanted Ric Lansing dead, too, but it wasn’t up to him, and it wasn’t up to Sonny.

Carly and Elizabeth had made their wishes clear —to deal with what had happened to them, they both wanted to face him in court. End of story. Sonny had seen the whole thing as a betrayal by his own wife and a sign of weakness on Jason’s part for giving in.

Jason didn’t care. He had made Elizabeth a promise, and he wasn’t in the habit of breaking them. Not after what she’d gone through last summer with Ric Lansing almost killing her, then being attacked by the man who’d raped her as a teenager.

“Baldwin knows something,” Sonny decided. “He’s just not telling you. He hates our guts and isn’t gonna do us any favors. I kept telling Carly that, but she let her mother—and Elizabeth—change her mind. Don’t think I forgot about that—”

“Baldwin doesn’t know anything,” Jason snapped, done with the snide remarks about Elizabeth. “He didn’t have anything to hide. And he hates you. Not Elizabeth.” Or Jason, since Scott had gone out of his way to help Jason keep control of her medical care, but Jason didn’t think Sonny wanted to hear about all the ways Scott Baldwin had played this case fairly.

Sonny was livid that Lansing had slipped through their grasp, and he was worried that the other members of the syndicate might see it as a sign of weakness that Lansing still drew breath. Jason didn’t spend a lot of time worrying about that kind of thing — if he wanted to prove his strength, he just kicked someone’s ass.

“Baldwin wouldn’t lie to Elizabeth. He’d lie to me maybe, but not her. Not about Lansing. He knows she could still file charges against the PCPD and the city for the crap they pulled with both of her cases,” Jason told Sonny. “That’s the reason Baldwin called her in at all. They’re making sure she’s not pissed off.”

“I don’t know why I bother. You’re never going to see it my way,” Sonny muttered. He sat behind his desk, put his head in hands. “Suppose Baldwin isn’t lying. What’s the game?”

“I’m not sure it has to be that complicated,” Bernie offered. Jason looked at him, frowned, and Bernie continued. “Well, the trial starts next week, and the hearing last week made it clear that Elizabeth would be able to testify against him. He can’t drag out the divorce anymore, and he can’t put off the trial. So he split.”

“He’s probably halfway to South America by now,” Jason continued. “He still has contacts from his work with Luis Alcazar. He could disappear in Venezuela or Colombia and pass as a local with his coloring. He knows the language. I agree, Bernie. I think Lansing took his chance and left. I don’t know if the Zaccharas helped him, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s in the wind.”

“You mean you hope he is. How do we know he’s not just licking his lips, waiting for another chance at Elizabeth or Carly? He was obsessed with Elizabeth. He tried to kill my wife, steal my son to give him to Elizabeth—and you think he’s done with her?” Sonny demanded.

“I’m not ruling that out,” Jason said. “I called Roy DiLucca in Miami. He’s laying groundwork with the Ruiz family to use their network in the region. They use a lot of the same connections that Alcazar did. Ric would probably use the same connections. I talked to Vic on the island to make sure Ric doesn’t get through the Caribbean without us knowing it.”

Sonny nodded. “Okay. Okay. That’s more like it. But that’s supposing Ric is going to South America. What if he’s not? What if he’s staying in the area?”

“The Towers are secure. Since Esposito got in, the PCPD doesn’t get in without a warrant.” Or unless they were cops Elizabeth trusted, but there was no way in hell Jason would tell him that. “And we have keys for the elevators. Stan finished installing that last week. You and I have keys. Elizabeth has one. So does Max, Marco, and Cody because they need access to the penthouse floor. We gave one to Wally on the front desk to let people upstairs—with authorization. No one gets upstairs without someone on the floor who lives there giving permission,” Jason reminded him.

Sonny nodded. “Okay. Okay. And Elizabeth—she should stay in for a while. I’ll get Carly to come stay at the penthouse with the boys until we get this bastard—”

“I—I don’t think that’s necessary,” Jason said, a bit unsettled by that suggestion. Carly had barely recovered from being locked up in the panic room—he didn’t think it was a great idea to ask her to be locked up again, even if it was in a luxurious penthouse. “I think the Brownstone has good security—”

“I’ll ask her anyway,” Sonny said. “Things are better between us, so she was going to come home soon anyway.”

Jason didn’t argue with him. He didn’t know Carly’s mind, and he wasn’t going to pretend he did. “We’re as prepared as we can be, Sonny. I don’t like this either, okay? Elizabeth—she’s pregnant. You think I’m going to take any chances with her?”

“No. No.” Sonny took a deep breath, and some of the anger and tension bled from his face as he met Jason’s eyes. “Of course not. How is she? I mean, with this Ric stuff—she handling it?”

“She’s doing okay,” Jason said, grateful that Sonny had remembered he actually liked Elizabeth. “She’s leading a support group for survivors at the hospital, and it’s helping. And we just had an appointment yesterday with the doctor. She’s good.” Her blood pressure had been elevated, but still in the normal range—nothing they hadn’t expected after Vinnie Esposito’s attack in September.

“Good. Good.” He looked at Bernie. “What’s going on down at the waterfront? Tommy collected on the World Series bets yet?”

General Hospital: Carly’s Room

Carly Corinthos smiled faintly as her mother gently laid a freshly washed and clean Morgan Stone Corinthos back into his crib. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” she murmured. She turned her head to face them. “You’d never know everything he’s been through.”

“That’s because he has a strong mother.” Bobbie Spencer leaned over to kiss her head gently. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back to take you home tomorrow.”

Bobbie turned towards the door and stopped when she saw Sonny standing there. “Sonny.”

Carly blinked, then winced as she sat up. “Sonny. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I wanted to see my son again.” Sonny nodded at his mother-in-law. “Bobbie. How are you?”

“I’m good. I’m going home to check on Lucas, then coming back tomorrow to take both Carly and Morgan home,” Bobbie said, lifting her chin at the final word, reminding Sonny that Carly didn’t live with him anymore and hadn’t in almost two months.

“Mama,” Carly said, pointedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bobbie sniffed, then kissed Morgan’s forehead one more time before leaving. Sonny closed the door behind her, and went over to check on their son. He lifted Morgan out of the bed, and cradled him against his chest.

“How was your meeting with Jason?” Carly asked. “Elizabeth came by after she talked to Scott. She said Baldwin didn’t know anything.”

A muscle in Sonny’s cheek clenched, and Carly knew it was because he wasn’t comfortable with her asking about business. She didn’t consider Ric Lansing to be business related, and neither did Elizabeth.

That was why she’d left Sonny—because he’d refused to remember that it had been Carly who’d been kidnapped, Carly who’d been traumatized by a week inside a cold, dark, panic room, locked up by a man who wanted to kill her and steal her baby. To Sonny, Ric was business. To Carly, Ric was what nightmares were made of.

And she’d left him to make sure Sonny never forget that Carly mattered, too.

“No, according to Baldwin,” Sonny said with a sneer, “they don’t know anything.”

Carly wasn’t in the mood for another go around on Scott Baldwin and her trust in the system, so she nodded. “Okay. But that didn’t tell me anything. What do you and Jason think?”

“We think we need to be cautious.” Sonny set Morgan back in his bed and walked over to sit in the chair next to her bed. “Jason is going to be dealing with Elizabeth’s security, and I—I think it’d be a good idea for you to come stay at the penthouse. Until Ric is found.”

Carly shook her head. “No, Sonny, we’ve talked about this—”

“We have. And I understand that you still have some things to work out—”

Carly narrowed her eyes at that because, as usual, Sonny was making it sound like this was all her fault. “We have things to work out,” she began, but Sonny continued speaking as if he didn’t hear her.

Story of her life.

“But with the new elevator security,” Sonny said, “there’s no place safer for you and the boys.” He hesitated. “I’m not asking you to stay forever, Carly. Just until we find Ric—”

“And how long is that going to take?” Carly demanded. She winced as she sat up further. “Weeks? Months?”

“Days,” Sonny said flatly. “We’re already on his trail, and Jason and I aren’t going to rest until he’s dead. You understand that’s what is going to happen, don’t you? It was one thing to let you get your way when we knew where he was and could control the situation—”

Carly closed her eyes. “Let me get my way—”

“But we don’t know what’s going on. What he’s planning. He’s escaped. I let him live after this, it’s just another sign of weakness. I can’t let that happen.”

She pressed her lips together. “I get it. It’s different now that he’s jumped bail, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to come home.”

“If you understand it’s different now, then we don’t have any other problems. That’s why you left in the first place, isn’t it?” Sonny asked.

“Yeah, but there were other—” Carly was too tired to argue. “Look. Let me think about it. It’s been a long day, and I just—I don’t know. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He picked up her hand, kissed her fingertips. “I love you, Carly. I just—I just want to protect my family. I can’t lose you. Not again.”

“I know,” she said, softening slightly. She knew that he’d suffered a psychotic break during the kidnapping. It had been terrible for them all. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to try and put it behind her, too. “I love you, too.”

Scorpio House: Kitchen

Mac dumped a can of soup into a bowl, then shoved it in the microwave to heat. It was a sorry excuse for dinner, but he hadn’t been in the mood to stop anywhere for dinner on the way home.

The day after the election, after Ned had run on a campaign to oust not only Floyd but Mac at the PCPD—well, he knew what people were thinking when they looked at him today.

“You know, you could return just one phone call.”

Mac glanced over his shoulder to see his ex-wife leaning against the door, her brows raised. “Felicia. I didn’t hear you knock,” he said dryly. The microwave beeped, and he took out the bowl.

“I didn’t.”

“I know.” He crossed to the kitchen table and took a seat. “What do you want?”

Felicia sat across from him, studying him for a long time. “Did Ned come by today?”

“He did.” Mac swirled the spoon around in the bowl. “I’m officially fired as of December 9. My replacement starts the next day.”

“He’s already found a replacement?” Felicia asked. She leaned back in the chair. “Well, I suppose I can’t be surprised at that. He did make it clear what would happen if he was elected—”

“And it was obvious even to an insane person Floyd was going to lose in a landslide after that press conference.” Mac exhaled. “It’s Anna,” he said softly. He didn’t look up at her, couldn’t bear to see her face.

Because he knew she was thinking about their conversation last summer when he’d confessed to feeling like the lesser Scorpio brother. He’d never measured up to the great Robert Scorpio in life or in death, and to be replaced by arguably the second-best PCPD commissioner in history—his brother’s widow—

It stung, and Mac was hurt more than he had any right to be. He’d destroyed his own career—he’d let Floyd control the conversation, the narrative—he’d bent over backward to stay in power, to keep his job—

“I’m sorry, Mac,” Felicia said after a long moment.

“Well, Anna will do a good job.” He forced a smile on his face as he finally met her eyes. “And maybe Robin will come to visit more. That’s the best I can hope for right now.”

“Exactly.” She tipped her head. “The girls are on campus tonight. You wanna order a pizza, or are you devoted to that soup?”

Mac looked down at the orange liquid in the bowl, then shoved it aside. “I’ll get the menus.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth unfastened her necklace, then set it down on her vanity table, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. Despite the awfulness of the day, she still liked to take a minute each night to remember the good things in her life.

She was relatively healthy and expecting a child with a man she loved deeply—who loved her nearly as much as she loved him. And they were living together, planning a future. She had friends who loved her, a job that she was starting to fall in love with—

Ric Lansing might have been poking at the edges of her consciousness, but Elizabeth wasn’t going to let him win. Not tonight.

Not ever again.

“Hey.” Jason closed the bedroom door behind him and crossed over her, leaning over to brush a kiss against her neck. She smiled, closing her eyes.

“Hey.”

“How was the rest of your day?” he asked as he sat on the bed and took off his boots. “I’m sorry I wasn’t home in time for dinner.”

“No worries. Emily came over to check on me for the five minutes she could spare me on her dinner break.” Elizabeth turned around to face him. “Nikolas called from London. He wants to set up a dinner when Laura comes home next week.”

“Dinner?” Jason asked, with a pinched expression. “That—I don’t have to—”

“No, you don’t have to go,” she teased. “Lucky is introducing Kelsey to his parents the first night Laura is home, so I don’t want to get in the middle of that. But Nikolas said Laura wants to see me as soon as we can make it happen. I’m so glad she’s coming home. I can’t wait to tell her about the baby. She’ll be so excited for us.”

“Really?” Jason asked, skeptically.

“Yeah. Lucky and I aren’t together anymore, but she was really kind after it fell apart, and we kept in touch.” She hesitated. “I checked on Carly before I had my group meeting.”

Jason looked at her with a worried expression. “How is she? I wanted to see her, but—”

“She’s okay. We’re both a little nervous because Scott didn’t have any leads, and she wasn’t sure if Sonny would tell her anything. I told her you might be okay talking with me, so I’d keep her in the loop.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I’m sure a lot of it is business related, so I just—”

“We don’t know much yet either,” Jason told her. “We put feelers out to anyone we know in South America. We think he’ll go there because he worked for Alcazar.” He hesitated. “I agree with Baldwin, you know. I don’t think you and Carly are in any danger.”

“You agree with Baldwin?” Elizabeth managed a smile. “I should get that on tape in case I want something later.”

He smiled at her, then stood and pulled her to her feet. “I can’t think of anything you’d want that you’d need to use leverage to get,” Jason told her before kissing her. She sighed and melted against him for a moment—then drew back.

“But if Carly and I were in danger—”

“The elevator security system is up and running. There are only seven keys right now. We might give one to Justus when he gets back from Philly with his family tomorrow. Maybe Bernie and Francis. But it’s going to be limited to the people who need access to this floor.”

“That does make me feel slightly better, but then again—I did let Vinnie up—”

He slid his thumb under her jaw, lifted her chin so their eyes met. “And Cody went downstairs without you. That won’t happen again. And you’re not planning to invite Taggert or any of his people over for dinner, so I think we’re good.”

“You’re right. And don’t blame Cody—”

“I don’t. He blames himself enough for both of us.” Jason stripped off his shirt and pants, pulling back the comforter. “You have Cody during the day, and Marco if you need to go out at night. Is—is there something else I can do to make you feel safe?”

“No.” Elizabeth sat on the bed, then pulled him down next to her. “No,” she repeated more firmly. “And I do feel safe.”

“Are you sure?” Jason asked. “Because Sonny—he wants Carly to come stay in the penthouse. You could—you could stay in for a few days if you wanted—”

“No, that—I have things I want to do. And need to do. I have a meeting tomorrow,” she told him. “It’s—” She managed a smile. “I told you I was hoping to get together with some of the other survivors. Vinnie’s other…” Elizabeth sighed. “In case we want or need a statement at his sentencing next month. Plus, I was hoping we’d feel better if we were working through it together.”

“The first one is tomorrow?” Jason asked. He smoothed his hand down her hair, letting his fingers slide through the strands. “You’re sure? Right now—it’s not public that you were the first—that the others—”

“It will be by the sentencing. They can do the math. And I’m not—it wasn’t my fault what happened to them.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “It wasn’t their fault they went into the park. Ric isn’t my fault either. So, no, I don’t want to stay in the penthouse. I worked hard—and so did Carly. We both worked really hard so that what happened doesn’t control our lives.”

She leaned forward to kiss him. “Tomorrow, I’m going to work. Then we’re taking wine to Justus and his wife to welcome her to Port Charles. And then, if you’re not busy, maybe we can do something for dinner. Take the bike out before it gets too cold.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He kissed her back, then gently laid her down on the bed.

| Chapter 52 →