December 4, 2022

This entry is part 15 of 56 in the Flash Fiction: Watch Me Burn

Written in 61 minutes.


PCPD: Interrogation Room

Lucky dragged his hands through his hair, squeezed his eyes shut, and took a deep breath. “Let’s take this from the top, okay? Make sure you’re not missing any details—”

“I have left nothing out,” Spinelli said, his eyes flashing with irritation. He scowled. “You’re not listening—”

“I didn’t—” Lucky grimaced, leaned back and avoided the malevolent gaze of the man behind the irritated computer geek. It was so goddamn surreal, he thought abruptly, to be questioning a kid represented by his wife’s divorce attorney in the presence of the son of a bitch who’d destroyed his family—

He tamped down on his own impatience and tried again. “I didn’t mean that you left anything out on purpose,” he said. “Only that sometimes if we go over the story a few times, I can ask new questions and it can trigger your memory.”

Spinelli glanced at Diane Miller who nodded, then he focused on Lucky again. “Georgie said that she found roses outside her dorm room last month. There was no note on it. No tag from a florist. She didn’t even know if they were for her or her roommate.”

“Okay. When exactly did she tell you this?” Lucky picked up his pencil. “Can you remember the date?”

“It was—” Spinelli furrowed his brow, twisted in his chair to look at Jason. The older man was leaning against the bookcase against the wall, his arms folded. “Stone Cold, the day you came home—she told me when we were setting up the banner.”

Jason exhaled, flicked his eyes at Lucky. “Yeah, okay. So the day I was acquitted.”

Lucky nearly flinched at that. While Spinelli had been preparing a welcome home party for Jason after he’d been found not guilty of murder, Lucky had walked into the home where he’d expected to raise his boys and found Elizabeth packing. “August 16,” he said. “Fine. Why did she think it was suspicious?”

“She didn’t.” Spinelli scratched his temple. “She thought it was a prank maybe. Or that Conflicted Film Major—” he grimaced —”maybe that Dillon had sent them and the card got lost. But later that day, I think, that night, she was more worried. She had called Dillon in California and he didn’t know anything.”

“Still, she’s a pretty—” Lucky stopped. “She was,” he corrected himself, thinking of the fresh, sweet little girl he’d known all her life. Who had grown up with his little sister. “She was a beautiful woman. Maybe it was just an admirer.”

“We thought so,” Spinelli muttered. “So we put it away. Until the dead flowers came.”

“Dead flowers,” Lucky repeated, the news no less chilling then they’d been the first time he’d heard the story. “When?”

“A few weeks later.” Spinelli shifted uncomfortably.

“Do you know exactly when?” Lucky pressed.

“Yes, but—” Spinelli glanced at Jason again before focusing his attention on Lucky again. “Uh, I don’t really remember the date. I just—I know it happened the day I had a conversation.”

“What conversation? With who?”

“Spinelli,” Jason said, and the teen looked at him again. “Was it the day yo told me about Kelly’s?”

Spinelli flushed. “Yes.” He swallowed hard and looked at Lucky again, who frowned at the exchange. “It was a personal conversation that—”

“It was after Georgie overheard you and Sam talking about the divorce,” Jason said flatly, and Lucky stared at the enforcer dumbfounded. “She told Spinelli the same day he got the flowers and he told us. August 30. That’s the day the flowers were delivered.”

“Georgie…” Lucky leaned back, looked at his notepad, his cheeks warm, something rolling in the pit of his stomach. Georgie had been there that day, he remembered now. And absorbed the likelihood that when Jason said “us” he was including Elizabeth.

“Detective Spencer?” Diane said coolly. “Do you want to continue or shall we find another officer who has fewer ties to the parties involved?”

“My divorce has nothing to do with any of this,” Lucky snapped, curling his fist around the pen in his hand. “Fine. The dead flowers were delivered on August 30—” He stopped, then got up and crossed to the wall, yanking down a plain calendar that hung near the door. He flipped back to August. “Those were both Thursdays.” He focused on Spinelli again. “When did the calls begin?”

“I don’t know for sure. I—” Spinelli stopped, drawing his brows together. “I don’t know when they started, only when she told me about them. We were at Kelly’s. After the dead flowers got delivered. She mentioned she was getting blocked calls, and it was like it’d been a few days by then.”

“Was she working that day? I can check the schedule.”

“Yeah. I was there for dinner,” Spinelli said. “I had a burger. But it was early. I was still hungry when I got home—that was the night we ordered pepperoni pizza. The first time,” he added. He looked at Jason. “You know? Little Dude and I fought about who would finish the orange soda.”

“I remember,” Jason said, with a slight smile as if the memory was a good one. Little Dude, Lucky thought. Christ, Cameron had a Spinelli nickname already.

“Do you remember how long after the flowers?” Lucky said, irritated by all the tangents into the Morgan family home life. Why did all of it seem tied to this? Damn it—

“Yeah. September 10.”

The day of his damned divorce mediation when he’d told Elizabeth about Manny Ruiz. Lucky grimaced, avoided Jason’s cool gaze, knowing the other man knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Which means he was escalating after a few weeks, whoever this guy was.” Lucky gritted his teeth. “She was being stalked. Didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Not about the calls. She promised she’d tell her stepdad. I thought she had.” Spinelli huffed. “And the flowers—I told Stone Cold, but there was nothing to it. It could have been a frat prank—”

“Great, you told Jason. Why didn’t you go to the police?”

Diane held up a hand as Spinelli scowled and opened his mouth. “You’re not answering that. My client handled things as his friend asked him to. Until this morning, no one thought Georgie Jones or her roommate was in danger, including her own stepfather, the commissioner of the damn police department.”

“We could have pulled security footage—” Lucky saw Spinelli’s eyes drop to the table. “You did, didn’t you? You got into the system—”

“My client isn’t answering that question—”

“Yes,” Spinelli said, and Diane glared at him. “For Georgie. For my faithful and loyal friend, I must do what is necessary. Yes.” He looked at Lucky, lifting his chin in defiance. “I logged the footage on both days. I also marked it in the system so it would not be deleted. You can go find it yourself. But it shows nothing. There’s no face—”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lucky muttered. “Look, no one is going after you for this. I’ll…I’ll just make it clear you’re a confidential informant.” At Diane’s surprise and Jason’s suspicion, he added, “I know what it’s like to have a friend who’s in trouble and not going to the authorities. Sometimes you have to do what you can to protect them.” He got to his feet. “If you think of anything else, Spinelli, let me know.”

Spinelli and Diane left first, but Jason lingered. Lucky tensed as the mobster closed the interrogation room door, leaving them  both inside.

“Whatever happens with custody and the divorce stays on that side of the door,” Jason said coldly. “It has nothing to do with Georgie or her roommate. So you’ll get my cooperation for whatever you need.”

Lucky scowled. “You don’t get to make demands—”

“You didn’t have to take Cameron home yesterday,” Jason cut in and Lucky closed his mouth. “You heard him, didn’t you? When you walked away—”

Daddy, Daddy, I’ll be good—

Lucky swallowed hard, closing it out of his mind. Have to keep his eye on the goal. “One day, when he’s older, he’ll understand—I love my sons. Both of them,” Lucky added with heat, “and I’m doing what I have to do to keep my family together. Blood doesn’t mean a damn thing—”

“When he’s older, he won’t even remember you. Neither of them will. Diane is filing my paternity petition this week. You can throw whatever you want at me about my past. You won’t get my son, and you won’t get another chance to hurt Cameron.”

Jason jerked the door open and left, slamming it behind him. Lucky exhaled slowly, then followed him into the squad room.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Hey, Gram—thanks—” Elizabeth set the suitcase on the floor next to the desk. “The boys are all set up here, but I didn’t have anything—”

“I assumed as much,” Audrey said dryly as she considered the shirt sliding off Elizabeth’s shoulder. “I, uh, hadn’t realized things were moving this quickly—”

“They weren’t. I wasn’t planning anything yesterday.” Elizabeth readjusted the collar of the shirt, then went to scoop Jake up from the playpen. “I told you over the phone that Cameron saw Lucky at the park and was upset. I didn’t really get into the details.”

“I had a bad feeling it was worse than you described,” Audrey said. She glanced around the room. “Where is he?”

“Playing upstairs.” Elizabeth gestured at the side table where the grainy image of Cameron could be seen on the monitor. The toddler was singing to himself as he played with the action figures. “Cameron tried to go to Lucky, but Lucky—he rejected him, Gram. Didn’t hug him, kiss him—nothing.” Her eyes burned at the memory and she took a deep breath. “He cried all afternoon. I needed to focus on him, so it just made sense for us to stay over—”

“Because Jason could take care of Jake.” Audrey rubbed her chest. “I’m so sorry, darling—”

“I’m revising the custody petition, Gram. I wanted Cam to keep Lucky in his life, but not like this. Lucky had no problem hurting an innocent child to punish me. I know you think it’s too soon or that I’m rushing that decision—”

“I remember how often Lucky visited when you lived with me,” Audrey said softly, and Elizabeth stopped. “Which was approximately never. Cameron stayed with me for the better part of six months. Lucky never came once. And he certainly never came after you separated this summer. He’s had a chance to prove himself as Cameron’s father and clearly he’s failed.”

“Right. Well—” A bit discomforted by how easily Audrey had accepted the decision, Elizabeth had to gather herself. “I was going to  take the boys back to your place today, but then—God—” She sat on the arm of the sofa. “We found out about Georgie.”

“An absolute heart breaking tragedy. I loved those girls. There was a time, you know, when Felicia was dating your uncle, and I spent a great deal of time with them. She was such a lovely girl. So much promise. And the young man who lives with Jason—they were friends?”

“Yes. Close friends. Spinelli is devastated, and Jason’s worried for him. But Spinelli does so well with the boys. I thought maybe they’d help distract him. And—” Elizabeth adjusted Jake in her arms, looking at her bright, beautiful son. “Life is too short to waste any of it. I could wait a few more months. Maybe a whole year. Maybe then no one would think anything of Jason and I being together. But why should I care what other people think?”

“You shouldn’t, dear.” Audrey stroked Jake’s soft hair and then smiled at Elizabeth. “It’s not the choice I would have made for you. But I know he cares for you, and he’s a good father. If this is the future you want, you can count on my support.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“We have a lead,” Lucky told Mac, setting down a preliminary report. “I still have a few things to iron out, but so far-”

“What? Tell me.” Mac flipped open the report, tearing through it. “What do we know? What—what is this order for phone records?”

“We have her physical phone,” Lucky said. “And we found records of blocked calls. Mac, I don’t know if it means anything, but someone sent her flowers in August, then two weeks later, sent her dead ones. And then started hangups from a blocked number. So far I’ve got pictures on her phone and the call history. We’re trying to get more info from—”

“My baby was being stalked? Why the hell didn’t she tell me?”

“She meant to, or she told Spinelli she was going to,” Lucky said gently. “She told him a few of the things, and he wanted her to tell you. To do more.  But she thought it was a prank, Mac—”

“Christ.” Mac shoved away from the desk. “She seemed…distracted yesterday,” he remembered. He scrubbed his hands down his face. “I thought maybe something was wrong, but then Maxie and I started to argue, and Georgie had to leave for a class—I let it go. I told myself I’d figure it out later.” He met Lucky’s eyes, the devastation gut-wrenching. “I thought there would be more time. Why wasn’t there more time?”

November 20, 2022

This entry is part 14 of 56 in the Flash Fiction: Watch Me Burn

Written in 56 minutes.


Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

Elizabeth set Jake’s empty bottle into the sink and perched him on one hip, keeping a close eye on Cameron who was still only halfway through the waffles and bacon on his plate. She looked towards the living room, worried.

What did Lucky want with Spinelli? And what had Jason learned on the phone call that convinced him it was okay to talk to the cops without Diane?

She heard a door open. “Cam, try not to drown yourself in the syrup, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“K, Mommy—” Cameron shoved another piece of the waffle into his mouth.

Jason and Spinelli were alone in the living room, which was good, Elizabeth thought, setting Jake into his playpen. But then she got a better look at their expressions—Jason’s mouth was pinched and Spinelli’s eyes were dazed, staring at the floor.

She waited wordlessly, afraid to say anything. Afraid to know what was happening. There were only a few people in the world that Spinelli cared about enough for this creation—

Jake made a protest from the playpen, then launched his rabbit out. Spinelli blinked, then smiled faintly at the infant. “The Wee One protests his imprisonment. I feel ya, kid.”

Then he sat down—dropping straight onto the floor—nearly collapsing. “Faithful Friend and the Fair Chelsea.” He looked at Elizabeth. “They’re gone.”

Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes flying to Jason who nodded grimly. “What happened?”

“Mommy?” Cameron came to the door. “I finish—” He stopped. “Snelli. You fall down?”

“Cam—” Elizabeth went to stop her son, but Cameron was on a mission and he slid under his mother’s legs and went to sit next to his new friend.

“Boo boo?” Cam wanted to know. He crouched down next to Spinelli, his brow furrowed. “Mommy a nurse. She can fix you.”

“No fixing to be done, Little Dude, but the Jackal thanks you for your kindness and consideration.” Spinelli drew his knees to his chest. “Didn’t do enough, Stone Cold. Couldn’t stop it.” He put his head against his knees and his whole body started to shake as the tears began. Bereft, Cameron patted his shoulder.

“S’okay, Snelli.”

Jason got to one knee next to him, a hand on his other shoulder.  “We’re going to help them now, Spinelli. Diane will meet us at the station, and we’ll tell them everything we know.”

“Spinelli, why don’t you go upstairs and take a shower,” Elizabeth said softly. She knelt in front of him. “You need to get your head clear and think of everything Georgie and her friend said to you these last few weeks. You were their best friend, and they need you to look after them now.”

“Not just friends. Family.” Spinelli drew in a heaving breath but nodded. “Yes. Yes. The Jackal must do what is right.” He smiled at Cameron. “Thanks, Little Dude.”

“Mommy makes me get a bath when I sticky, and it sucks but then I clean. That’s okay,” Cameron said, nodding sagely. “Snelli be okay.”

Jason looped one of Spinelli’s arms over his shoulder and lifted him to his feet. “Go ahead. I’ll call Diane.”

“I’ll take Cam up to wash him up.” Elizabeth scooped the toddler into her arms, then put a hand on Spinelli’s shoulders. “Come on. We’ll go together.”

Jason watched Elizabeth walking slowly after Spinelli up the stairs, and when they disappeared, he went over to the phone. Christ. How the hell was Spinelli going to come forward about hacking into the college security to give them the footage?

He couldn’t think about it yet, couldn’t really fathom that friendly young woman who had been in and out of the penthouse since Spinelli had moved in. She’d come forward about the conversation she’d heard between Lucky and Sam — she’d helped decorate the place for Jason’s return from jail—

And she’d helped Spinelli set up a bedroom here at the penthouse for the boys. All the small little ways Georgie Jones had been in his life, and now she was gone. He’d known her since she was small girl—

His hand tightened around the phone as it slammed into him and he remembered Robin. She’d always considered Maxie and Georgie her cousins, but they’d been more like her sisters. Did she know? Was someone with her?

“Diane? Hey. Yeah, we need you as soon as possible. I need to take Spinelli to the PCPD for questioning.”

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

“Is it wrong of me to be glad Elizabeth couldn’t get back on the schedule until next month?” Emily asked. She set a chart down next to Robin. “I feel like a bad friend because I know she wanted to get back to work, but—”

“She asked for six months, she got it. The hospital hired a nurse to take care of it.” Robin checked her notes. She blinked, then focused on Emily. “Why is it bothering you today?”

Emily leaned against the counter and handed Robin a letter. “I’m scheduled for a deposition in the custody case, and it made me think of everything since the trial. And I also ran into the temp nurse on the surgery floor—Patrick was chewing her out—”

At the mention of her ex-boyfriend, Robin’s lips thinned. “He needs to have more patience—” Or maybe he was in the same bad mood she’d been in since they’d broken up. After everything they’d been through this last year— “You know, it should be socially acceptable to ask someone if they want kids on the first day. Two years of my life down the drain—” She rolled her shoulders. “Look, siting for the depo is going to suck. Especially since you’re friends with both of them—”

“Not anymore. Not after the crap Lucky’s pulling—” Emily turned at the sound of the elevator, and Robin glanced up. The pen in her hands fell to the counter with a click of plastic.

Mac was standing there, his eyes red—Kevin just behind him, a hand on Mac’s shoulder, gripping it. “Uncle Mac.”

“Robin.” Mac closed his eyes, swallowed hard. “I can’t—” He looked at Kevin. “I can’t—”

“What’s wrong?” Robin rushed around the counter. “Uncle Mac—”

“Robin—” Kevin caught her before she reached her uncle. “It’s Georgie. They found her in the park—”

“Found.” Robin simply stared as the horror of the single word sunk in. “Found,” she repeated. She looked at Mac, at the tears sliding down his cheek. “Found. Georgie was found.”

Emily picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Patrick Drake to the Sixth Floor Nurse’s Station. Immediately. If he’s not in surgery.”

“This morning,” Kevin continued. He led her over to the sofa in the waiting area, helped her to sit. Mac perched on the edge of the sofa. His hands were shaking, Robin thought, and nothing terrified her more than seeing her strong uncle’s hands trembling.

“She and her roommate were attacked after leaving a party,” Mac managed. “I’m—I’m—We’ll call everyone—”

“Lucy’s already taking care of it,” Kevin said.

“Attacked.” It was another terrible word that matched found. It couldn’t be just a car accident, no. Robin’s baby cousin had been ripped away from her through violence. Someone had stolen her.

“She’s gone,” Robin said. She thought if she said it outloud it would make it real, but it sounded obscene. Like a walking nightmare that had to be keep being lived over. Every second, her brain erased the knowledge and it had to come again. Georgie dead. She was dead. Found. She was gone. Dead. Murdered. Attacked. She looked at Mac. “Do we—I mean, is there anything—”

“We’re working the case. But—”

“I should help Lucy with the calls.” Robin stood suddenly. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll—I’ll make calls. There are so many people. Everyone loved her—” She looked at Emily. “Georgie. Everyone loved her.”

“They did,” Emily said. She came out of the nurse’s station. “I’ll talk to my mother and get you off the schedule—”

The elevators opened again and Patrick stepped out, his face twisted in a scowl that disappeared instantly when he saw Robin standing in front him, swaying slightly, her eyes stricken. “What’s wrong?” he said, coming forward and taking her into his arms. “What’s happened?”

“Oh, God.” Robin choked back a sob and her knees crumbled, but Patrick kept her upright. “She’s gone. Georgie. They stole her and hurt her, and she’s gone—”

He hauled her against him as she finally broke into sobs, heartbroken, loud, shattered sobs that shook her frame. He looked at Mac’s eyes, and Kevin’s quiet grief, then pressed his lips to Robin’s dark hair. “Okay. Okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“I don’t care if I go to jail,” Spinelli said defiantly. He lifted his chin and glowered at Jason. “Georgie is what matters.”

The shower had indeed cleared his head, and now the grief was being fed by a searing anger—at himself, the killer, and the world. “They can throw away the key, but there must be justice. Fair Elizabeth, you understand—” He turned pleading eyes on Elizabeth who folded her arms.

“Spinelli, why don’t you listen to Diane? There might be a way to tell them everything without putting yourself at risk. Justice matters,” Elizabeth added when Spinelli’s nostrils flared. “But Georgie would never, ever put you at risk. You know that.”

“I’m sure we can talk our way around it. And perhaps the campus security will still have the footage on hand.” Diane touched Spinelli’s elbow. “I ask you to trust me to look after you. Do you?”

“You must agree that Georgie comes first. My faithful friend deserves nothing less-”

“Georgie comes first for you, and I understand that. But my loyalties are to the living,” Diane said not unkindly, and Spinelli seemed to shrink at this reminder of why they were here. She looked at Jason and Elizabeth. “Will you give me a minute with my client?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll go clean up the kitchen,” Jason muttered, stalking from the room. Elizabeth peeked at Jake who had been moved to the bassinet for his morning nap, then followed.

“Diane will take care of him, Jason,” Elizabeth said, flinching when Jason dropped several plates into the sink with a crash and clink of cutlery and ceramics.

“Lucky was kind to him,” Jason said shortly. He looked at Elizabeth. “As soon as he stepped off that elevator, I knew—God, I knew it was bad, but—” He leaned back against the counter, dragged his hands through his hair. “He wanted to let Spinelli know easily. Wanted him to sit down, and I couldn’t let him in. Couldn’t let Cam see him—”

“It wouldn’t have made the news any easier if Spinelli had been sitting or standing,” Elizabeth said.

“In a million years, I never thought it was murder. Those girls—Georgie was just a kid. And I’m thinking about Robin. She loved her so much.”

“We’ll check on her,” Elizabeth said. She’d thought of Robin, too, once she’d made it upstairs and Spinelli was in the shower. Of all the people Georgie had touched in her short life. “Jason—”

“I knew something was wrong,” Jason said. “Or at least that there was some creep sending her flowers. That’s why Spinelli got that footage. But I didn’t know it kept happening. Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t she—”

“Because they didn’t, Jason. And there’s no guarantee if they had, it would have helped.” Elizabeth stepped up to him, put her arms around him, relieved when he hugged her back. Spinelli was like a brother to Jason — the younger, screw-up brother who needed constant looking after to keep on track, and right now, Jason thought he’d failed him. “He’s such a good kid, Jason. It’s hitting this so hard because he feels the way you do. But you’ll just make yourself sick thinking of everything you didn’t do. We have to focus on Spinelli and look after him the way he’s looked after us. The way he’s taken care of the boys.”

“Yeah,” Jason said roughly. He cleared his throat. “I’ll make sure he gets out of this without getting into trouble. Uh—” He exhaled sharply. “Look, I know we said we’d take this slow and maybe it’s not a good idea, but Spinelli—he seemed to do better when he was talking to Jake and Cam.  Maybe—can you—”

“I already called my grandmother,” Elizabeth said, and his expression eased. “I needed to talk to her about yesterday anyway. We’ll be here when you get back.”

“Okay. Okay.” He rested his forehead against hers, then their mouths found each other in a comforting, soft kiss. “I love you,” he murmured and she smiled.

“I love you, too.”

November 13, 2022

This entry is part 13 of 56 in the Flash Fiction: Watch Me Burn

Written in 61 minutes.


Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason came awake abruptly as he heard sounds from the baby monitor from the side table. Jake was stirring at—he glanced at the clock next to it—just past five in the morning. He rolled over gently to see Elizabeth still sleeping deeply. Cameron had burrowed into her side during the night, his head tucked into her chest, her arms wrapped around him securely.

Quietly, Jason slid out of bed and went down the hall to the boys’ bedroom to find Jake laying on his back, his tiny fists waving in the air. “Hey,” he said softly, switching the monitor to mute so he didn’t wake Elizabeth. He lifted Jake in his arms. “You’re up early.”

Jake just looked at him and shoved his fist into his mouth. Was he hungry? He didn’t think Elizabeth would feed him this early, but maybe he was on this schedule for her return to work. Or maybe he just wanted to be held — he wasn’t fussing, Jason thought, and sat in the rocking chair by the crib. He put Jake against his shoulder and stroked the infant’s back. Michael used to wake himself up without warning, and if Jason was careful, he could get another hour or two of sleep from him.

“It’s our first morning together,” he said to his son, relieved when Jake didn’t continue to fuss. He settled down, his eyes drifting shut. “I don’t know your schedule. I’m a quick learner.”

“He likes a cuddle in the morning.”

Jason glanced up to see Elizabeth leaning against the door frame, her eyes sleepy and her hair tangled from sleep. “Did you want—”

“No. You don’t get enough time with him.” She smiled, stayed where she was as Jake’s breathing slowed and the baby slid back into sleep. “Besides I like to watch you with him.”

Jason settled Jake back in his crib and switched the monitor back on. “I tried not to wake you up—” he told her as they went back in the hall and he closed the door.

“Internal clock,” Elizabeth said, stifling a yawn. “Can’t help it.” She caught his hand before he went back to the master bedroom. “Thank you for letting us stay last night—Cameron always has such a great time with you.”

Jason drew her closer and she smiled as their bodies brushed. “If I thought you were ready,” he said, “I’d let you stay forever. I like waking up next to you.”

“I like waking up in your bed.” She pressed her lips against his briefly. “We could get another hour before Cam gets up.”

Jason was wide awake now, but wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. “Let’s go.”

PCU: Campus

Lucky crouched down, the bile in his stomach rising as he glanced up at his partner. “Who found them?”

“Kid coming from a party—” Cruz Rodriguez swallowed hard, looked away. “How we gonna tell him, Spence? Christ.”

“No good way,” Lucky murmured. He’d known Georgie Jones since she was a girl. Smart, quick, friendly—all of it was gone in an instant. Her pretty brown eyes were open, lifeless, looking up into the sky, the garish, angry purple bruise around her neck stark against her pale skin.

Beside her, another girl Lucky had seen in passing, was laying — her curly brown hair spread around her like a halo, her eyes open to the sky. They were sprawled out — killed where they were found, Lucky thought. He got to his feet, took a step back. “The second vic has a cord around her neck —”

“You think it’s the same cord he used on Geor—” Cruz stopped, took a breath. “The first vic.”

“Maybe. We’ll see if the bruises match.” Lucky dragged a hand down his face, looked around the campus. He didn’t know PCU that well — he’d never really hung out here when Emily and Elizabeth had taken classes. They were close to Lewis Hall and a few other dorm buildings — about half a mile from fraternity row and the heart of the campus with the student center and academic buildings.

“CSU is on their way,” Lucky said. “But this—” He crouched back down, gestured at the strap of a purse still slung across Georgie’s body. “It doesn’t look like a robbery.”

“No—” Cruz broke off with a swear as he looked out. “Shit, shit, shit—he must have heard—”

Lucky sprang to his feet and leapt over the bushes to stop Mac as the commissioner rushed towards them, his eyes bulging, his face red — “Mac—don’t do this to yourself—”

“I have to see—” Mac shoved Lucky aside and then he crumpled in on himself. “Georgie. Georgie. Oh, God. It’s Georgie—” His hand was trembling as he raised it in the air, and he seemed to struggle for air. “Oh, God. Georgie. My baby. Georgie.”

Lucky put an arm around the grieving father’s shoulders. “We’ll take care of her, Mac, okay? We’ll look after her. You can’t be here—”

“Don’t you—” Mac sank to his knees, a few feet from Georgie’s body, his eyes locked on her lifeless form. “She was going to Oxford. Did you know that? She was going to transfer after this year—Oxford. In England.” His shattered eyes met Lucky. “What happened? What do we know?”

“Not much yet,” Lucky said, trying to get him to stand, to get away from Georgie’s body. “Partygoer found them about a half hour ago. Called it in. CSU is on their way. Can’t be sure,  but it looks like strangulation. Both girls have their purses so it doesn’t look like a robbery.” He paused. “Do you know the other?”

“Chelsea Rae,” Mac murmured. “They were roommates.” He closed his eyes, fought for breath. “I have to get it together. I have to take care of—Maxie. And Felicia. I have to call them.”

“Sure. Sure. Cruz, go with Mac, okay? And call Robin,” he told his partner. “And Kevin Collins. Mac needs them.”

“My baby,” Mac said. He curled his hand into a fist. “My baby.” He looked at Lucky. “Not a robbery.”

“It doesn’t hit me that way, no,” Lucky said. “I could be wrong — maybe he emptied the purses, but—”

“Not a robbery. Start with the friends.” Mac’s face hardened. “Start with that little freak Spinelli.”

Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

“Cameron, try to get some of that syrup on your pancakes and not just in your hair,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, reaching for another napkin to wet as Cameron’s sticky fingers became stuck in his curls. He flashed his baby teeth at her.

“Yummy,” he said.

“How would you know?” she asked, but smiled anyway. It was so good to see her baby back to himself, with his sunny smiles and zero to a hundred personality. He’d only slept another half hour after Jason and Elizabeth had gone back to bed, and he’d tried to zoom down the stairs in the little motorcycle tricycle from his room.

They’d only slowed him down with promise of waffles and bacon, his favorite breakfast — and Elizabeth was only mildly surprised to see Jason digging a box of frozen Waffles from the fridge. “The last time I had breakfast here, you had like six eggs and half a loaf of bread,” she teased him.

“Spinelli is eating more than his weight in food,” Jason said, setting down a plate in front of Spinelli.

“The Jackal needs his sustenance, Stone Cold.” Spinelli slid a few slices of bacon onto Cameron’s plate. “Here you go, Little Dude.”

“Yummy—” Cameron broke it in half and shoved it in his mouth. He grinned. “Best day ever.”

“Easy for you to say,” Elizabeth muttered at the sink as she dabbed at a glob of syrup on her shirt. Jason grinned at her and she smacked him lightly in the arm. “Don’t enjoy my misery. I hope he gets you next.”

“We should have sleepovers all the time if it means the Jackal will get a hot breakfast,” Spinelli said cheerfully.

Jake started crying on the monitor, and Jason set down the spatula he’d been using for bacon.

“I’ll get him,” Elizabeth said. “I need to soak this stain before it sets — can I borrow a shirt?” she wanted to know. “I didn’t replace the emergency one in the diaper bag after last week’s mustard affair.” Cameron had smacked a mustard packet hard and it had spurted all over her at Kelly’s.

Jason nodded, and she snagged the bottle he handed her, already lightly warmed. It was lovely, she thought, almost like a normal family morning with all the chaos and mess that came with it.

She knew it was too soon to be thinking about staying more than a one night every once in a while, and she still had to find a good way to explain staying last night to her grandmother — though maybe Audrey would understand that she’d needed to focus just on Cameron last night, so it had been helpful to have Jason there to pick up the slack with Jake.

And she hadn’t forgotten Jason’s words the day before — that losing Lucky didn’t mean Cameron couldn’t have a father. She just didn’t quite know what to do with it — everything seemed to be going exactly the way she dreamed — she and Jason were in love, he adored the boys, and she was happy.

Every time Elizabeth came close to happiness, the world caved in.

She tossed the shirt on the bed, intending to soak it after Jake had his bottle, and found a t-shirt of Jason’s that wouldn’t completely swallow her whole, though it came close. She tugged the blue cotton over her head, and brought the collar to her nose for just a moment, letting the fresh scent sink in.

This moment of perfection wouldn’t last forever, so she was going to remember every second.

She scooped Jake up, settled him in her arms, and began to feed him. When Jake had latched onto the bottle, Elizabeth carefully made her way downstairs, taking the stairs slowly.

She was halfway across the living room when the phone on the desk rang. Jason came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his a dishtowel, surprised at the sound. It was too early, Elizabeth thought, her heart rate picking up. What if something had happened—

“Morgan—what? Why?” Jason exhaled slowly. “No. No. Wait—” He pressed a hand to his forehead and looked at her. “He needs to give a reason or  he’s not getting past the desk—” Some of the color slipped from his face. “Yeah. I’ll meet him in the hallway. Thanks, Wally.”

“Jason, what’s wrong—”

Jason slowly set the receiver down. “The front desk. Lucky’s downstairs on official police business.” He looked at Elizabeth. “He needs Spinelli.”

“Lucky—why—” She tightened her arms around Spinelli. “Why does he need Spinelli?”

“He wants to talk to Spinelli about a party he went to last night on campus—” Jason went past her into the kitchen. A moment later, Spinelli  followed him out.

“What’s up, Stone Cold?” he said cheerfully. “Hey, it’s Little Stone Cold, having breakfast just like us—”

“Spinelli, the PCPD are coming upstairs to ask you about a party last night,” Jason told him, and Spinelli’s smile slipped.

“The party? I dipped early on that. Not my scene—” He stopped. “Georgie. Chels. Are—are they okay? Was there an accident—”

“I don’t know anything,” Jason said. “Just that Lucky wants to talk to you about that. We’ll go out in the hallway,” he told Elizabeth. “So Cameron doesn’t see or hear him.”

Elizabeth hesitated, concerned. Jason might not know exactly why Lucky was coming up, but whatever Lucky had said to the front desk guard had worried Jason. Or upset him. “All right. I’ll go make sure he stays in the kitchen.”

Jason steered Spinelli out into the hallway, closing the door. “Listen, you’ll answer questions only with me present,” he told the younger man. “If it goes south, I’ll stop it, and we’ll call Diane. I think this is just an information thing, but if I change my mind—”

“I gotta help Chels and Georgie.” Spinelli rubbed his chest. “Maybe they didn’t get home. Maybe they’re missing. Or someone got hurt—I gotta do the right thing—”

The elevator doors slid open and Lucky stepped out. Twenty-four hours earlier, Lucky had been the piece of shit walking from a son crying out for him, and there was a piece of Jason that still wanted to pound him into the ground.

But the man who stepped out was a cop — and his face was somber, his jaw clenched, and his eyes grief-stricken. Jason clenched his hands at his side. Christ. What the hell had happened—

“Hey, Spinelli.” Lucky flicked his eyes to Jason, and his cheek twitched, but then he nodded. “I’m glad you’re not alone. Uh—” He cleared his throat. “Can we—you might want to sit down—”

“This is as far as you go,” Jason said flatly. “Cameron is inside.” He saw Lucky jolt at that, but then nod.

“Fair enough. Uh—” He paused and looked back at Spinelli. “You were at a party on the PCU campus last night. You went with Georgie and her roommate didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Spinelli’s eyes were wide, dark. “I went home early. It’s not really my thing, so Georgie said it was cool if I split. I only went to keep them company. Are—you gotta tell me they’re okay.”

“What time did you get home?” Lucky wanted to know.

“I don’t know. Ten? Eleven?” He looked at Jason helplessly. “Stone Cold? The Jackal—he can’t seem to think right now.”

“A little after ten-thirty,”  Jason said. “We can pull security if you want to confirm—”

“Yeah, yeah, I want to be able to confirm it. I believe you,” Lucky added. “It’s just—I need—” He dipped his head. “Okay. Gotta do this fast then. I’m sorry, Spinelli—”

“No, no—”

“Georgie and  Chelsea were—they were murdered last night.”

“No, it’s wrong—” Spinelli shook his head, backed up into the door. “No, no, no! No, they’re fine! You’re wrong! This is wrong!”

He sank to the ground, hugging his knees. “No. No.”

“We’re sure,” Lucky told Jason. “I made—I made the identification on Georgie myself—” He fisted his hand at his side. “I’m sorry, kid. I know you were close,” he told Spinelli.

Jason crouched next to the shattered boy. “Spinelli,” he said quietly. “Lucky might have more questions for you. We need to help Georgie now. Like she helped you. Right? Can we try—”

“Yeah.” Spinelli looked up, his cheeks tear-stained. “Yeah. Faithful friend. That’s who Georgie was. Always there. Did—she told her dad, didn’t she? About the calls and the dead flowers. She was supposed to tell someone—”

Lucky’s expression stilled. “What calls? What dead flowers?”

November 6, 2022

This entry is part 12 of 56 in the Flash Fiction: Watch Me Burn

Written in 62 minutes. We’re back baby 😛


Lewis Hall: Georgie & Chelsea’s Room

“If Bryce isn’t there, I’ll just die.” Chelsea flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. “I don’t know how many more signals I can send—”

“You could try just asking him out.” Georgie leaned towards the mirror to check her mascara. “I know it’s a wild concept—”

“Please. You would never.” Chelsea folded her legs. “Did you tell your stepdad about the calls and the roses?”

“I—” Georgie glanced down at the phone — she’d had three more hangups since lunch. “No. I started to, but Mac and Maxie were arguing about school again. I need to get him on his own. Tomorrow.” She turned to her roommate. “I promise.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Cameron was still sniffling when they got back to the penthouse, his wild sobs subsiding somewhere between the park and the Towers. Jason didn’t know what to do, how to fix this — the only solution he could envision would be getting back into the SUV, hunting Lucky Spencer down and breaking him into pieces so tiny even the vultures couldn’t pick at them —

Elizabeth went into the penthouse ahead of Jason who had Jake still tucked into the stroller. Cameron was tucked against her chest, his face burrowed in her neck, little hiccups escaping his small mouth. Elizabeth just continued to walk with him, rubbing his back, making circles around the room.

Jason decided to concentrate on Jake because it was all there was to do. He unhooked him from the stroller and went upstairs to change him and put him down for a nap, hoping the day would come when he could slug Lucky Spencer. Just once.

Downstairs, Elizabeth continued to rock her son, trying to make sense of what had happened, of Lucky not only walking away from their son, but dumping him in Elizabeth’s arms like he was a sack of potatoes—

Like he wasn’t a person, a little boy who had loved Lucky for all the days Cameron could remember.

“I w-want D-daddy,” Cameron said, his words punctuated by heaving sobs. “W-Where’s D-Daddy?”

“I’m so sorry, baby.” She pressed her lips to his forehead. “Daddy isn’t here.”

“Was I b-bad? Mommy—”

“No. No. You are perfect.” She tightened her arms around him, but everything inside of her was on fire. Cameron, at the age of three, was asking all the questions Elizabeth had since she’d been dumped on her neighbor’s steps. How could she have made so many wrong turns? How could she have done this to her little boy? She’d wanted Cameron and Jake to grow up safe and secure, with two parents who loved them.

And now Cameron was doubting his own worth. His ability to be loved.

“T-Then why—”

“I don’t know, Cam. I just—I don’t know.”

She continued to pace the living room until her arms felt like spaghetti, but she couldn’t put him down. Couldn’t let him out of her sight.

His sniffles faded and then his breathing changed — the way he slumped against her, Elizabeth knew he’d finally fallen asleep.

She turned towards the sofa and found at the bottom of the stairs. “He finally passed out,” she said to him softly as Jason came to her. He gently lifted Cameron out of her arms and laid him out on the sofa. He reached into his own pocket and took out a little metal motorcycle from upstairs and wrapped Cameron’s hand around it.

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, watching the toddler like a hawk but Cameron continued to sleep. “Okay. Okay.” She went over to the desk where she’d tossed her purse and snatched it up on her way to the kitchen.

She fished inside for her phone and pressed a speed dial. “Diane? Hey. I’m sorry to call you so late—” She dragged a hand through her hair. “Um, you didn’t file that petition yet, right? Good. Good. I need to make a change. No custody. Lucky’s out. I don’t want him near either of the boys. Lack of support, interest, no visitation, whatever you have to do. I’ll—okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When she hung up, she pressed the phone against her lips, staring hard at the stainless steel fridge, knowing that Jason had followed her. “I can take whatever he throws at me,” she said finally. “I deserve it. I lied to him. And God knows, I wasn’t fair to anyone this year—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I can take it,” she repeated. She looked at Jason now. “You know why he did it, don’t you? Why he refused to give Cameron an ounce of affection—” Her voice faltered but she took a deep breath. “To hurt me. To force me. He thinks I’ll give up — that I’ll do anything for Cameron to keep his father—but—”

She tightened her hand around the phone, squeezing until she thought she might snap it in half. “He thinks I’m weak. Because I did it before. I hurt you and lied about Jake and he thinks I’ll do it again.” She met Jason’s eyes. “A father doesn’t do what he did today. He just…walked away. Like Cam didn’t matter. My parents did that to me.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason came forward, a hand outstretched but she stepped away, put up her own hands to keep him back. “I’m sorry.”

“No. No. Don’t you apologize.” She angrily swiped at her eyes. “I won’t let Cameron grow up this way. Because if Lucky uses him as a weapon now, he’ll do it again. And Cam doesn’t—better not to have any father at all,” she muttered. “My whole life, I wondered what I did wrong, why I wasn’t good enough to be loved, and it wasn’t until they put him in my hands—” She held her arms as if she were cradling a newborn. “The nurse gave him to me, and he looked at me, and oh—” Elizabeth looked at him, tears spilling down her cheek. “I’ve never felt like love like that in my whole life. It just filled every piece of me, all the spaces I didn’t even know were empty—I looked at him, and he was the answer to everything I’d ever wondered — it wasn’t me. It was never my fault. Because I love that little boy with every breath in my body, and I would fight for him. I’d kill for him. And I am never going to let him think for one minute he has to do anything to earn my love. My parents didn’t love me. Lucky doesn’t love him.”

She set her phone down, then dragged the heels of her hands under her eyes. “Thank you. For not killing him on the spot. I know you wanted to.”

“Still do,” Jason muttered, and Elizabeth laughed at that—then started to cry. This time, when Jason reached for her, she let him hold her. “You’ll get him through this. He knows how much you love him, and he’s going to remember who held him while he cried, dried his tears, patched up his cuts—he won’t be missing anything. You’ll love him enough for ten parents.” He was quiet for a moment. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll be there, too.”

“What?” Elizabeth drew back, furrowing her brows. “What do you mean?”

“We don’t have to do this now,” Jason told her. “But I don’t want Cameron to think he matters less to me. I won’t treat him differently than Jake. And I hope one day you’ll share him with me.”

“Oh.” Her eyes were wide as she absorbed that. “I didn’t—I—”

“We don’t have to do this now,” Jason repeated. “I just wanted you to know that losing Lucky—it’s not a great loss. It doesn’t have to be.”

“Okay. Um. Okay. I—” She really hadn’t expected him to say that, but now that he had—she found that she wasn’t surprised. “Thank you. I—I actually—” She took a deep breath. “I need a favor. I don’t want to take him home like this. Gram will want to know what’s going on, and I’m just—I don’t know if I could do this with her right now. Can—can we stay? The night, I mean.”

“You never have to ask,” Jason told her. “Yeah, you can stay.”

Wyndemere: Study

“You’re going to have to explain yourself at some point,” Lulu said flatly, following Lucky into the room. “You’ve refused to say a word since we left the park—”

“Just shut up—”

“What’s going on?” Nikolas wanted to know, rising from his desk. “Lu—”

“I don’t want to do this right now—”

“That’s too bad, because I’m not going home until you explain what the hell just happened,” Lulu snapped. She looked at their brother. “We ran into Elizabeth the park with the boys—”

“And Jason,” Lucky muttered. “Lu, you don’t understand—”

“What’s to understand? Cameron tried to run to his father and you shoved him away from you! You dumped him on Elizabeth like garbage and ran while he was crying for you—” Lulu’s voice was thick as she forced the words out. “What the hell—”

“You did what?” Nikolas demanded. “Damn it, Lucky—”

“Everyone shut the hell up!” Lucky exploded, putting his hands on his head. “You don’t understand. Elizabeth has to see what she’s doing to Cameron—”

“What she’s doing?” Lulu threw up her hands. “Are you insane? Are you actually have a psychotic break? You ran from your own kid—”

“He’s not—” Lucky stopped and Lulu just stared at him. “Look, Elizabeth has to decide who she wants. Me or Jason. She’s not going to drag us both into this. If she wants to give him Jake, then—”

“He’s not your kid,” Lulu said, quietly finishing the statement, and Lucky’s cheeks flushed. “You like him and everything, but you haven’t been thinking about him these last few weeks. You listened to him cry and scream for his daddy — and it wasn’t Jason he wanted, Lucky.”

“Lucky, this is—this isn’t a good plan. We need—”

“We don’t need to do anything—” Lucky left the room abruptly, leaving Lulu to look at Nikolas with sorrow.

“He thinks he’s pushing Elizabeth into a choice to save Cameron from another day like today, but he doesn’t even see it, does he?”

“No.” Nikolas took a deep breath. “No. All Elizabeth has to do is tell that story — Jason will corroborate it—and Lucky will be dead in the water. Jake isn’t his biological son. He had no hope of getting visitation. And he just threw away any chance to have Cameron. He might not regret that right now, but he will. One day.”

“That’ll be his problem. I’m calling Elizabeth. If she needs another witness—”

“Lulu—”

“I don’t care if he’s my brother. Elizabeth stood by me last year after the abortion. She’s made some mistakes, but you weren’t there—” Lulu shook her head. “I don’t want Cameron anywhere near my brother right now.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Cameron woke up and choked down some dinner, though his usually bubbly personality was in retreat for the night, and he wasn’t even excited to learn they were having a sleep over. Spinelli left after dinner for a party, and they watched Cameron’s favorite cartoons on the living room sofa until he fell asleep.

Elizabeth laid Cameron down on the bed, then looked at Jason again. “You really don’t mind if he’s in here?”

“No,” Jason said with a sharp shake of his head. He’d changed into sweatpants and loaned her a shirt to wear.  “He might wake up and look for you—” He started to pull back the comforter, then paused. “I can—” He’d just assumed they’d share the bed, but — “I can go the guest room—”

Elizabeth paused, one knee on the bed to peer at him curiously. “Do you want to go to the guest room?”

“No—”

“It’s a king size bed, Jason,” she said. “And…” Her cheeks flushed. “We’ve talked about what…what we want. I don’t see the point in pretending that things aren’t..I mean, I’m not ready to do—” Elizabeth huffed. “This is insane,” she muttered.  “I love you,” she said, and his brows lifted in surprise. “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Jason said, a bit warily. He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he repeated. “I just don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you—”

“The last thing you ever make me feel is rushed.” Elizabeth crawled into the bed and laid down next to her son, gently brushing his hair from his forehead. “I just want to make all the bad things go away for him, to make it so they never happen in the first place. I know it’s not possible.”

Jason switched off the light, plunging the room into shadows. “No, but you can be there at the end of the day so the bad things don’t seem as scary.”

Elizabeth smiled. “You’re right. We’ll get him through this, and I promise I’ll smother him with so much love he won’t even remember Lucky.”

Port Charles University: Campus

“I knew he’d break my heart,” Chelsea muttered as she stumbled down the path. She tripped and Georgie hauled her back to her feet. “He has such pretty eyes,” Chelsea continued. “Why do the pretty ones have to be evil?”

“I don’t know,” Georgie said, wishing she hadn’t said it was okay for Spinelli to go home early — she could have used some help getting Chelsea back to the dorm room. After seeing the object of her affections making out with another girl, Chelsea had dived into the liquor and beer options.

Men. A complete waste of time.

There was a crack — like a breaking of a branch and Georgie stopped, startled by it. She heard some footsteps, and turned, losing her grip on Chelsea who fell to the ground with a grunt. Georgie turned back — but then a hand wrapped around her upper arm and yanked hard —

Before Georgie could get out a scream, something hard thumped against her head, and the world went black.

Chelsea sat on the path, her vision blurred even as she heard some struggle and grunting. “Georgie?” she tried to stand, but fell again. “Georgie—”

“Your turn.” The voice was raspy and broken sounding — Chelsea peered up, blearily trying to focus on the dark figure in front of her.

“What—”

A hand clamped over her mouth, and Chelsea felt herself being dragged back. She started to kick and scream wildly—but a pain exploded in her head and there was nothing left to fight.

They were found the next morning, dumped like broken dolls in the bushes just a dozen yards from the entrance from their dorm room, strangled by the same piece of thin cord still wrapped around Chelsea’s neck.

October 16, 2022

This entry is part 11 of 56 in the Flash Fiction: Watch Me Burn

Written in 55 minutes. Last scene inspired by Hope Floats. If you know, you know.


Kelly’s: Dining Room

“Georgie? Hey, Georgie—”

Georgie snapped back to attention when something pinched her. She looked away from her phone and the missed call from an unknown number to her irritated sister who had been the source of the pinch — and to her former stepfather with his concerned expression. “Sorry.” She slid the cell phone back into her purse. “Just a missed call.”

“Sorry if we’re interrupting your busy schedule,” Maxie said coolly. “Mac is trying to force back into school—”

“I’m not trying to force you—” Mac set the fork down and scowled at her. “I’m not trying to force you into anything. All I did was gently suggest that you might want to rethink not registering this fall—”

“I’m doing just fine at the hotel.” Maxie sat back in her chair. “I was just wasting time and money. Not everyone needs college. Coop didn’t—”

“You planning to enlist?”

Maxie pursed her lips. “Couldn’t if I even wanted to. Heart transplants can’t—”

Georgie rolled her eyes as Mac immediately started to back track. Never failed, she thought. As soon as Max scored any points, Maxie did something to bring the pity back to herself.

She felt her purse vibrate, but didn’t reach for the phone. It would just  be another missed call. Another hangup. Now wasn’t the time to tell Mac about the flowers or the calls. Not when Maxie had his full irritation and attention.

She’d do it tomorrow. Probably.

Wyndemere: Study

Nikolas sifted through a stack of contracts on his desk, hesitating when he realized that some of the files belonged to Lucky. There were folders with the names of witnesses and some medical reports—

And one name that troubled him.

Manny Ruiz.

Nikolas picked it up, glanced at the partially ajar door, then down at the file. He opened it—but the mystery wasn’t resolved. It was filled with newspaper clippings from the previous summer, detailing the psycho’s death and the medal of honor Lucky had received — along with the copy of the official police report.

Why would Lucky being looking into Manny as part of his divorce case?

He was still musing over when he heard the footsteps in the hallway. He nearly put the file down, hid it beneath the others but he couldn’t. He’d given Lucky a blank check for his divorce lawyer, and maybe that didn’t give him a right to know what was  going on, but it certainly entitled Nikolas to ask.

Lucky stepped inside. “Sorry — I forgot to grab some of this after I met with the lawyer today.” He stopped halfway across the study when he realized what Nikolas was holding. “What are you doing?”

“Looking at what my money is funding,” Nikolas said dryly. “Why do you have a file about Manny Ruiz? Is that supposed to make you look better in court? Is it a reputation thing?”

“Could be.” Lucky shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m trying to keep this from going to court, okay? So don’t worry about the money—”

“The only way this stays out of a court is if you drop the demands for Jake.” Nikolas set the file down. “Is that what you’re doing?”

“No.” Lucky stalked over to the desk, gathered them into a pile. “It’s none of your business—”

“If it’s just about reputation, then you wouldn’t be so secretive. Lucky, I don’t want to get any nasty surprises—you know if you don’t put me on a witness stand, Elizabeth will. When it comes to the drugs—”

“I told you—” Lucky’s gaze was nearly malevolent. “Fine. I’m making sure that Jason drops the paternity suit. Otherwise, the whole world is going to find out that Jason murdered Manny Ruiz and used me to cover it up. He’ll be back on trial for murder—”

“What the hell—” Nikolas’s eyes were wide. “What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t kill him. Jason shoved him over the roof. And Elizabeth had to know about it. So unless he drops the suit, I’m going to make sure everyone knows what he did, and that she was part of it.”

Nikolas simply stared at him until Lucky’s face flushed. “You’re attempting to frame her as his accomplice because you think he won’t take the chance Elizabeth might end up in real trouble—”

“He won’t let her lose the boys. You know that—”

“I don’t—” Nikolas dragged his hands over his face, then sat down in the seat. “I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he said, nearly dazed. “I’ve known from the start this was a disaster. That you were making a mistake, but I wanted you to feel like you’d tried everything. I didn’t want you to feel like a failure—”

“You didn’t want me to end up back on the pills,” Lucky bit out nastily. “Yeah, I know what you think I’m capable of—”

“You’re going to lose. Because no, Jason probably isn’t going to let Elizabeth risk losing the boys. But this won’t be won in a court of law. If he thinks there’s a chance they’ll lose, he’ll pick up a phone and he’ll get whatever judge he needs to rule the way he wants.”

“No—”

“And I’m not going to make the same call.” Nikolas met his brother’s angry eyes. “I won’t. You’ve got a right to be angry. To be furious what what she did and how she lied. But I’ve told you from the beginning that going after custody of Jake—tying it to Cameron—it’s a mistake—”

“This is going to work,” Lucky told Nikolas flatly. “Elizabeth doesn’t think I’m serious about walking away from Cameron. She will when we file. And then she’ll have to decide what kind of mother she’ll be.”

Lake House: Living Room

“I’m not particularly proud,” Alexis said as she skimmed a copy of the paperwork that Lucky’s lawyer had given Diane. “But I wouldn’t do it any differently.”

“So there’s truth to what Lucky is saying.” Diane paced the small living room, her jaw clenched. “You and Jason—”

“Jason was never part of any of this.” Alexis rose. “It happened so fast, Diane. And I wasn’t on that roof. I know that Manny went over the edge and he died from the fall. And I know that Jason nearly bled out from a ruptured artery in his heart. He was still in surgery when the preliminary report came back.” She set the paperwork down. “Lucky was running around telling everyone he’d killed Manny, that he’d shot him. And Manny was covered in blood. If Lucky is trying to make it sound like he had to be convinced he was the real hero—” She snorted, folded her arms. “I know a decent amount of hospital staff who’d say differently.”

“Why did you bury this?” Diane tipped her head. “It seems like a case of self-defense—”

“There were members of the PCPD who would have done anything to get to Jason. He’d just saved my daughter’s life. He had nearly died to do it. And—” Alexis paused. “I felt guilty, I suppose. He’d broken up with Sam because I’d convinced him to do it. He only did what had to be done, Diane.”

“But the official autopsy report?”

“The official autopsy and the police report support Lucky Spencer’s version of events.” Alexis gestured at the paperwork on her coffee table. “And before you ask, Elizabeth had nothing to do with any of it. She was Jason’s nurse. She rushed after him and found him bleeding to death out front of the hospital. She got him into surgery. She was still scrubbed in when I made the decision. The only cover up was mine.”  She lifted her chin. “I’ll testify to that if I have to.”

“You could lose your license—”

“Maybe. I have prosecutorial discretion—or I did. I made the decision it was a self-defense case and said nothing to correct the final versions of events. You said Lucky’s trying to use this against Elizabeth in the custody battle?”

“He’s trying to scare Jason away from filing the paternity suit.” Diane sneered. “I’m going to wipe the floor with this little twerp.”

Port Charles Park

“I wanna swing, Mommy!” Cameron dashed towards the swingset, trying to haul himself up into the seat. Elizabeth followed and lifted him to sit properly, glancing back at the picnic table where Jason was sitting, Jake in his lap.

“Mommy! Mommy! Go zoom in the sky!” Cameron kicked his legs and she turned her attention back to him, quickly going behind the little boy so that Jake was in her sight. She knew Jason would take care of him—that there was no where safer for their son than in Jason’s arms—

But they were back in the park, and Elizabeth would never shake the feeling that nothing good would ever happen here. A hundred yards away stood a fountain where her world had been shattered a life time ago.

And just beyond those trees was the area she’d been sitting when her child had vanished.

“Mommy!”

“Sorry.” Elizabeth forced a smile on her face and began to push Cameron, her shoulders easing a bit as the little boy squealed and giggled, demanding that she push him higher and higher—

When her arms had grown sore, Cameron eagerly agreed to head over to the sandbox and was happily digging holes. Elizabeth sat next to Jason, sliding her fingers over the soft, silky blond hair of the infant who kicked and giggled, his arms waving.

“We don’t have to stay much longer,” Jason told her. “I know you don’t like having them both in the park—”

“It’s okay. It will be okay,” she corrected. “I’m not alone today. If Cameron needs me, you’re here. Jake’s not alone.” She nodded at the sandbox. “He’s always loved the park. He likes getting dirty and playing on the swings.”

Jason opened his mouth to say something—what, she’d never know. Because the bushes rustled and a pair came around the corner, stopping dead when they reached the little park.

Lucky and Lulu.

Elizabeth felt Jason tense next to her, Lucky’s eyes hot and irritated as he took in the scene at the picnic table, with Jake in Jason’s arms. Lulu touched his sleeve and looked at them both with worry.

Cameron was singing to himself when he must have felt something in the air change. He looked up, then his eyes lit up. “Daddy!” He leapt to his feet and climbed out of the sandbox.

All of this was worth it, Elizabeth reminded herself. Cameron loved Lucky. The only father he knew—

And then Lucky stepped back, putting his hands up, palms facing out. “Not today, Cameron.”

“Lucky?” Lulu asked, her brows drawn together. “What—”

“Daddy—” Cameron took another step, but Lucky moved back. “Daddy, what are you doing—”

Elizabeth’s breath caught as her little boy stood only few feet from Lucky, frozen. She rose. Beside her, Jason also got to his feet and put Jake into the stroller.  “Lucky—”

“Daddy, I miss you—” Cameron must have decided he didn’t understand or to ignore Lucky because he made a quick dash and wrapped his arms around Lucky’s leg, burying his face in the jeans. “Daddy—”

“I’m sorry—” Lucky pried the little boy off his leg and picked him up—but didn’t hold him close, didn’t cuddle him. Hug him. He might have been carrying a sack of potatoes—it wasn’t the way he’d held Cameron any day of his life—

Elizabeth took a step forward, helpless as Cameron started to cry, his little arms just dangling at his side as Lucky set him on his feet. “Daddy!” he sobbed and threw himself at Lucky’s legs again. “I’ll be good, I’ll be good!

And again, Lucky pried him off but this time he strode over to the picnic table and dumped Cameron into Elizabeth’s arms. “I can’t. Ask your mother why,” he said shortly and turned around and left.

Jason took a few steps forward, his eyes flashing with fury as Elizabeth’s brain absolutely flicked off.

Lulu stared after him with shocked eyes, then rushed to follow. “Lucky!”

“Daddy!” Cameron sobbed. He started to kick and scream, trying to climb down from his mother’s arms. “Daddy, wait!”

Elizabeth just held him more tightly, his tiny body shaking as he continued to sob for the only father he’d ever known. She finally looked at Jason as tears slid down her cheek, burning her skin.

“Daddy! Daddy, don’t go! I’ll be good!”

October 7, 2022

This entry is part 10 of 10 in the The Last Time

Written in 55 minutes.


34
This is the last time I say it’s been you all along

Elizabeth’s energy was flagging by the time Jason pulled up to the curb at her grandmother’s. She was relieved to see that her car, which she’d driven to the church, was parked in the driveway just as Jason had promised.

“I should have brought you home earlier,” Jason said with a wince as he helped her out of the car and steadied her over a leftover patch of ice on the sidewalk. He kept a hand at the small of her back as they walked towards the house.

“I’m fine,” she promised. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t take care of—”

“But Kelly said—”

“Light bed rest,” Elizabeth finished. She stopped at the door and smiled at him. “She didn’t want me working doubles. I’m off the schedule, and Epiphany is putting me on paperwork when I go back next week.”

“I’m sorry. I know you’ve got it handled. You can take care of yourself—”

“But you worry,” she finished. She touched his forearm and their eyes met. “I wanted to be there today. For you and Emily. I’m glad I could be.”

“Me, too.” He opened his mouth, then hesitated for a moment. “Monica—you heard her invite me to the will reading. Um—would you—I mean—”

“I’ll go with you,” Elizabeth agreed almost instantly, even though her own conscience was twinging at her. Was it really a good idea to spend so much time with Jason? To be at his side as he grieved his father? They were friends, and she wanted to keep the easy, almost effortless connection they’d shared today—it reminded her of the early days of their relationship, when they’d been able to talk about anything and everything under the sun. But it also made her want more. To wish she’d said yes even no had been the better answer.

But Jason had always—always— been there for her, even when it hadn’t been easy. She wouldn’t turn away now just to make it easier for herself.

“I have an appointment with Kelly,” Elizabeth said. “Next week,” she added. “It’s the third trimester check-in—um, I thought you might want to go.”

“Of course,” Jason said immediately, and she was happy to see some of the lingering grief easing from his expression at the thought of the baby. His eyes dropped to her belly, peeking through the folds of the coat she’d left unbuttoned after leaving the Quartermaines. The baby shifted, and Elizabeth reached for his hand so he could feel the kick. Jason smiled, his hand warm against her body. “What does that feel like?” he wanted to know.

“You’ve been kicked in the ribs, haven’t you?” she said dryly, and his smile deepened into a grin.

“Just three more months,” he murmured. His hand fell away, and they stared at one another for another moment before Elizabeth finally cleared her throat and reached into her purse for her keys.

“I should get inside,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later.”

35
This is the last time I let you in my door

The lawyer had no sooner closed his mouth then Tracy had turned to Jason with a scowl etched into her already permanently sour features. “At least you broke up with the gold digger,” she snipped.

Monica narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, but Tracy had already looked at her next victim, the quietly weeping Skye Chandler-Quartermaine. “And you! You’re not part of this family!” She got to her feet. “How dare he leave anything to you—”

“Tracy,” Edward said gruffly, struggling to his feet. “Don’t start—”

“ELQ should stay in the family,” Tracy cut in sharply. “I told you years ago—”

“Those shares were Alan’s to distribute as he pleased,” Monica retorted. “You have no right—”

Emily leaned back in her chair as the fight continued, rolling her eyes. “Dad had to know he was going to make Tracy’s head explode,” she said dryly to Jason, and to Elizabeth. Jason grimaced. While he’d come around on most of the Quartermaines, he’d had limited exposure to Tracy. And didn’t care for her.

“It was lovely of Alan to leave something to his grandchildren,” Elizabeth said, squeezing Emily’s hand. “I’m just sorry there’s not a way to change it for you—”

“It’s fine. I have my own shares for whatever kids I have,” Emily said. “But it’s great that your baby gets to have something from Dad, isn’t it?” she asked Jason.

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” He was still reeling from the rest of the bequest — Alan had left large trust funds for all four of  his children — and the lawyer had corrected himself — that the trusts had been adjusted after AJ’s death two years earlier. Which meant that Alan had never taken Jason out of his will. Jason didn’t need the money — but his father hadn’t really given up on him. Not all the way. “I don’t need the money, so I’ll give it to you—”

“No, Dad wanted you to have it—” Emily stopped as Skye stormed out of the room with Tracy hot on her heels. Ned and Edward reluctantly followed, but Monica stayed behind, her eyes still hot with irritation.

“That woman,” Monica muttered before looking at Jason and Emily. “I’m sorry for that.”

“There’s no apologizing for Tracy,” Emily said. She rose to her feet. “She is what she is. I almost feel sorry for her. She’s so obsessed with ELQ, she can’t even see how much she’s losing.”

“Maybe you should give Skye some of your shares,” Elizabeth suggested with a wicked grin, and Emily’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Don’t tempt me.”

In the car, Jason was still unsure how he felt about an inheritance from Alan, from a father he didn’t know. He waited until Elizabeth had fastened her seatbelt and flexed his fingers around the steering wheel. “I’m going to put the money in a trust,” Jason said suddenly. “For the kids.”

“The kids?” Elizabeth echoed.

“Mine. The baby.” Jason paused. “And Cameron.” And any other children in the future, but he didn’t say that. “I don’t need it. And—” And he wondered if Alan would have been a good grandfather. If it would have been a bridge between them—  “And I don’t want them to ever worry about anything.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Elizabeth told him softly. “I don’t expect you to—”

“I know. But I want to.” He turned the key in the ignition, resolute. “So I’ll call Diane and get it done.”

36
This is the last time, I won’t hurt you anymore

Cameron bounced out of his grandmother’s lap and made a beeline for his mother as Jason held the door open for her. He wrapped his arms around her leg. “Mommy, Mommy, I missed you. You bring home my new brother? Where is he?”

“Not here yet,” Elizabeth said, wishing she could scoop him up in her arms—she could have done that even a few weeks ago, but over the last few days, her energy had dropped to almost nothing. Her bones felt as if they’d been replaced by sludge and she was trying to swim through it.

Jason closed the door behind her and put a hand at her waist. “Let’s sit down,” he told Cameron. “So you can sit with Mommy.”

“Okay.” Cameron grinned at him, then went back to his grandmother who had risen, worry in her eyes.

“Is everything all right, darling?” Audrey asked as she took Cameron’s hand and gently steered him away until Jason had helped Elizabeth take a seat.

“Nothing. Just a bit tired—” Elizabeth caught Jason’s eye, and sighed. “I’m a little anemic,” she admitted. “Kelly’s running some tests, but it just means I’m more tired. And I’m taking early maternity leave.” She wrinkled her nose at that. “Epiphany and Bobbie put their heads together, I think, and decided that even paperwork would be too much.”

Audrey didn’t argue with that idea, and Elizabeth knew her grandmother was thinking of the arguments they’d had about her double shifts and pushing so hard last fall — Elizabeth hadn’t known what else to do. She’d needed the money — and the distraction.

“The good news is that we had another ultrasound and this time the baby had turned enough to see—” Elizabeth pressed her hand to her belly. “Cameron was right. It’s a boy.”

“Oh!” Audrey’s worry shifted into delight. “How lovely.”

“Yay! I get a brother! No icky girls.” Cameron made a retching noise, and Elizabeth smiled.

“I think a little girl would have been nice,” Audrey told him. “You’d be an excellent big brother. But we’re quite happy with a healthy baby at the end of the day. So more bed rest?”

“Still light,” Elizabeth said, with a nod. “But yeah. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I’ll do some more vitamins, she might have me check in overnight to get some iron supplements.” She grimaced. “I should go lay down.”

She held out her hand for Jason to help her up, but he decided not to bother with any of that. Instead, he put her arm around his neck and lifted her up. “Jason, I’m way too heavy—”

“Not even close to what I bench press,” he said, his breathing not even changing. “No stairs,” he reminded her.

She decided not to argue and laid her head against his shoulder. She was asleep before they even reached the top of the stairs.

September 23, 2022

This entry is part 9 of 10 in the The Last Time

Written in 62 minutes.


30
Put my name at the top of your list

Jason stood just outside the double doors to the chapel, lingering in the anteroom of Queen of Angels, a bit unsure of himself as he watched the pews fill rapidly with members of the hospital staff and distant branches of the Quartermaine family. The front two pews had been left empty out of respect for the close family. Tracy had already passed by him, her arm in her father’s.

Edward looked as if he’d aged decades since Jason had seen him last, and it was hard to find the ruthless and cold man he’d battled after the accident. Monica had squeezed his hand and glad been glad to see him. She’d gone in with Ned and his ex-wife, Lois, and their daughter, Brooke.

But Jason couldn’t bring himself to sit down. To take a place in those front pews. To publicly proclaim a position of family, of relation, that he’d never taken when Alan was living.

“Hey.” Emily came around a corner, her eyes red. “I thought I saw you over here.” She touched a tissue to her eyes, forced herself to smile. “I was just washing my face. I can’t—” She swallowed, looked through the doors, and the tears were glimmering again in her eyes. “I could put it away for a while. The last few days. I made some calls for Mom. But mostly I just…” She closed her eyes. “I pretended he was at work, maybe. That it wasn’t real.”

Jason reached for his sister, drew her against him in a loose embrace. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, that he understood. He’d spent the last few days thinking about other things, but then Monica had called him with the time of the services, her voice hesitant. Would he come? All the confusion, the swirl of grief and numbness returned just like that. As if no time at all had passed since that terrible night in the hospital.

“I know you and Dad didn’t see eye to eye,” Emily said, drawing back so their eyes met. “But he loved you, Jason.”

“I know.”

“And somewhere, inside of you, I think you must have felt it.” Her smile faltered. “He didn’t always do the right thing. And he pushed too hard. He said things that hurt you. Especially after Michael was born—”

“Emily—”

“I wish we’d had more time. I wish he was here to meet your child. I think it would have changed things. Or maybe that’s just me wishing again.” She inhaled sharply, her breath shaky. “You’ll come in with me, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jason nodded. “Yeah. But I know Monica saved you a seat in the front. I’ll—” Stand in the back? He looked down the aisle, to the empty space in the second pew.

“Oh, good.” Emily stepped back, turned towards the door. “I wasn’t sure if she’d make it.”

Jason turned and everything felt steady inside again. Elizabeth was climbing the stairs, a black coat pulled over an equally dark dress, one hand over her belly. He broke away from Emily, thinking he’d help her up the stairs—

But she was already there. “Sorry. Cam had a hard time going down for his nap. He didn’t want Gram to read him a story. It had to be me.”

“You’re just in time. We’re going in.” Emily hugged her. “I’m with Mom, and you and Jason can sit behind us.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at him and he knew what she was thinking. The news of their child’s paternity had spread, but this would be the first time most people had seen her since the hostage crisis—and it would be at his father’s funeral? Sitting with him?

He nearly told her she didn’t have to—he didn’t want her to feel obligated or pressured—but then he did something he rarely did when Elizabeth was involved. He spoke what was in his mind. “I’d like that,” Jason told her.

“Oh.” Her eyes widened, but there was a warmth there, and he knew he’d made the right choice. “Okay. Of course.”

He took her hand and they trailed behind Emily as his sister walked down the aisle to join Monica and Edward in the front pew. Jason waited while Elizabeth sat down, and then sat at the end of the second pew.

There was a casket in front of them, and belatedly, Jason realized it was an open one. Alan lay there, his eyes closed. Beside a podium, there was a large photograph of his father, smiling as he hugged Emily at her medical school graduation.

Alan had wanted that future for him, Jason remembered, thinking of a conversation long ago, mere weeks after the accident. In the Quartermaine gym. Alan had opened up to him about what it meant for Jason to follow him into medicine, and Jason remembered feeling close to him in that moment, a fleeting emotion that he’d buried.

He swallowed hard, as he thought of that moment and others over the last eleven years—there were more harsh than good, but they were all he’d ever had. There was no turning back the clock. No time, no chance, no extra time.

For just a second, Jason wished he could go back to that day, to the moment he’d almost connected with his father, and be softer. To be kinder to the family that was grieving the boy who had never come home.

Elizabeth slid her hand into his, and he looked at her. Her eyes were damp and he wondered if she was thinking about regrets the way he was. If she was thinking of all the maybes and what ifs. The roads not taken. The choices he’d run from.

Her fingers tightened around his and the tightness in his chest eased as he looked forward again as Father Coates stepped up to begin the services.

31
This is the last time I’m asking you why

He didn’t run after the service, though he thought about it. He sat and listened as Father Coates delivered a eulogy, as Monica wept through the memories of her marriage—the good, the bad, and the ugly—as Emily broke down in front of the casket as she tried to talk about her father—and as Edward went up to the casket after the services had ended, and Jason had wondered if the old man would be able to walk away.

He offered Elizabeth a ride to the mansion and she accepted, though they didn’t speak in the car. He didn’t know what to say, and maybe she could sense that because she remained quiet, too.

When he’d parked in the driveway, and helped her out, he finally broke the silence. “Go inside,” Jason said. “I, uh—” He looked away, towards the gardens. “I wanted to take a walk.”

“I’ll go with you.” Elizabeth closed the car door and wound her arm through his. “If you don’t mind.”

He didn’t. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want to be around people. Not just yet. And not here. But Elizabeth wasn’t just anyone.

They walked through the quiet, dormant rose gardens, and Jason tried to remember the last time he’d been here. Not after Lila had passed, no. But surely he’d made time before that—

“I haven’t been here since I came home,” Jason said, suddenly, stopping in the middle of a path.

Elizabeth had walked a few extra steps before realizing that he had stopped, and she turned to look at him, questions in her eyes. “After you were gone for that year?” she wanted to know. “You came to see Lila—”

“In the house. But not here.” He paused, looking around, wishing he was better at picturing things. That he had Elizabeth’s artistic gifts. He couldn’t remember what it looked like, bright with life. What Lila looked like, sitting amongst her beloved roses. “She loved it here.”

“I know. She used to invite me to tea even after Emily left.” Elizabeth smiled faintly. “She was special.”

“She was the first person I ever loved,” Jason murmured. “The first person who felt like family. She taught me what that was. Then Emily. Robin and Sonny, that was different, but Grandmother—” He shook his head. “I keep thinking about the weeks I lived here after the accident. We were all so angry.”

“Jason—”

“I destroyed his—my—” he corrected gently. “I destroyed my room. Evidence of a life I didn’t remember, and Monica lost her temper. She was furious with me—I destroyed things she couldn’t replace.” He turned to look back at the house, wondering what that room looked like now. “They were strangers to me, and they kept looking for someone else. I couldn’t see they were grieving—”

“It’s easy to be hard on yourself with hindsight,” she reminded him. “Yes, they were grieving the boy they’d raised, but you were doing the best you could. I didn’t know you then, but I know that you’re not cruel—”

“You’d be surprised,” Jason murmured, but she shook her head. “I did things I knew would make them angry—”

“And your father and grandfather attempted to have you declared an unfit parent to take custody of Michael,” Elizabeth said. Jason exhaled slowly. “You’re looking back with regret, Jason, and that’s good. But don’t pretend that your family didn’t do things that hurt you, too. You hurt each other.” She tipped her head. “At the end, did Alan blame you?”

“No.” Jason struggled to speak, to force the words out. “No. He  blamed himself. It’s a parent job to keep trying. To make their child feel loved. He was sorry for giving up.”

“My parents gave up, too, but I’m not sure they’ll have regrets on their deathbed.” Her smile was faint. “I was scared when I got pregnant the first time. What kind of parent would I be? All I knew was what I didn’t want to be.”

“You’re an amazing mother,” he told her. “Cameron adores you.”

“And you’re an amazing father. Michael was lucky to have you. This baby—” Elizabeth reached for his hand, rested it on her belly. Jason smiled as he felt a strong kick against his palm. “This baby,” she continued, “will be lucky to have you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said. She drew her brows together. “For asking you to marry me because you were pregnant. You’re right. Marriage is more than that. And I don’t want you to ever think that all I care about is the baby.”

“I didn’t think that,” Elizabeth assured him. “I know you want to be involved. To be a full-time father. I don’t know what that looks like, but I promise, we’ll make it work.”

“I know.” Reluctantly, he let his hand drop to his side, though he could have felt their child kick all day long. He thought about his conversation with Carly, what he knew Elizabeth wanted before she’d consider marry him. Love. Could he offer that? Was he ready? He didn’t know that answer, but she deserved to know how important she was to him. How did he put it into words?

“Last year,” Jason began slowly, and she looked at him, their eyes meeting. Holding. “I don’t know exactly how it happened—how we got our friendship back—but I’m glad we did. I couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”

A tear slid down her cheek, but she smiled. “My life is always better when you’re in it,” she said, and he returned the smile. “There’s no one else I want to raise this baby with.”

32
You break my heart in the blink of an eye

Emily felt her mother tense next to her, and she twisted, thinking that Monica had over heard Tracy saying something—

But it was nothing so dire—only her mother watching as Jason came through the front door, turning slightly to make sure Elizabeth made it over the threshold without slipping. They ignored the eyes on them as he removed her coat, then handed it to Alice, along with his own.

Then they made their way across the foyer to Emily and Monica. “I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth said, offering a hand to Monica. “Alan was such a wonderful chief of staff. I didn’t think anyone could live up to Gramps, but he stepped in like the position was made for him.”

“He was so honored to be asked to take over for Steve.”  Monica squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “And your grandfather would be proud of you carrying the Hardy/Webber legacy into the future.” She looked to Jason. “Thank you so much for coming today. I know it’s not your favorite place in the world, but it meant a lot.”

“Thank you for asking me,” Jason told her.

“Alan’s will is being read in the next few days,” Monica continued. “He left you something, so I hope you’ll come.”

Jason shifted uncomfortably, but then nodded. “Yeah—Yes. I’ll be there.”

33
This is the last time you tell me I’ve got it wrong

The house was stuffy and crowded, so Jason made sure that Elizabeth was settled with Emily who promised to make sure she’d get her something to eat—and he escaped back into the fresh air on the terrace.

He realized too late that his grandfather was standing by the railing, looking over Lila’s gardens. He nearly went back inside, but Edward turned, and they stared at each other for a long time.

“Monica says you were there at the end,” Edward said, finally.

Jason nodded cautiously. “Emily and I were both able to talk to him.”

“Good. Good. I’m glad. He, uh, had a lot of regrets. You get older, and you start—” Edward slid a hand down his suit jacket, his voice trembling for just a moment before he continuing. “You start to think about the things that you could have done better. My list is—well, it’s endless. No surprise there.” He waited a beat. “You’ll be a father soon, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Jason said. “In May.”

“Spring.” Edward closed his eyes. “It’s a good time. Fresh starts.” He turned back to the gardens. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said abruptly. Furiously. “Burying a son? Preposterous. It should have been me. It should have been me instead of my Lila.”

Edward’s hands gripped the railing tightly and he bent over. “I shouldn’t be here. None of us should.”

“No,” Jason agreed, coming to stand next to him. His grandfather looked at him with surprise, and Jason was startled to see the old man’s eyes were damp. “But Grandmother wouldn’t want you to say things like that.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” he murmured. “I often wish I’d had an ounce of her heart. Of her grace. I’d have been a better man.”

“I think we all would be if we could be like her.” The silence drew out between them. “But she loved us anyway.”

“Yes, she did. Even when we didn’t deserve it. I rarely did.” Edward cleared his throat. “We—we pushed too hard. After the accident. We thought—” He shook his head. “I don’t know what we thought. I never expected you to stand up the way you did, to walk away. To stay away. You never would have before.”

“No, I guess not. But I’m not that different now,” Jason found himself saying. “I just found another family to be loyal to.”

“I suppose there’s truth in that.” Edward sighed. “I took my family for granted. I thought I could never push them too far—that I could always bring them back. But there’s no bringing my boy back, is there?”

It wasn’t a question that needed answering, so Jason didn’t bother. “We can’t bring him back,” he said slowly, “but I’d like my child to know who he was. Will—” Edward stared at  him, hope in his eyes. “Will you help me?”

“Of course. Of course.” His craggy face broke into a smile. “Try and stop me.”

September 18, 2022

This entry is part 25 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 69 minutes.


Morgan House: Living Room

Elizabeth’s car was in the driveway, and Aiden’s bike had been left on the front lawn, tossed on its side. But when Jason got inside the house, it felt empty. Until he heard the shouts from the backyard.  They grew louder as he went through the dining room into the kitchen and found Elizabeth on the back deck watching the kids. She was bundled up in a white coat, a blue scarf wrapped around her neck.

It wasn’t just their kids outside—it never was, Jason thought as he stood at the back door and watched as Jake and Aiden chased each other around in circles, Joss and Emma giggling while Spencer tossed a football towards Cameron. The sight of Joss’s blond hair and Emma’s dark had him flashing back to the night of the dance. The girls standing on their front lawn, Emma’s sweet smiles and Joss’s sullen eyes.

And his wife, standing and watching over them all.

She turned as he emerged, her eyes guarded. “You’re home.”

“I went to Sonny’s.” He closed the door behind him and joined her on the deck. “It’s getting too cold for this,” he murmured, watching the kids. “There’s snow in the forecast this week.”

“I know.” Elizabeth flicked her eyes at him before looking away. “I know you’re mad—”

“I don’t care that you did it,” Jason said, and she frowned, turning to look at him fully. “You think it bothers me — the act itself — and it doesn’t. I won’t apologize for not wanting my life to touch you. The violence, the danger — I know you can handle it. I’ve watched you do it for almost twenty years. That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like it.”

“I know—”

“But—” He took a deep breath. “You’re right. If you’d told me, I wouldn’t have let you near it. I’d like to think if I knew how much you needed it, I’d have—” Jason pressed his lips together. “I hope the answer is yes.”

“I didn’t know myself until I was in that room,” she said softly. “Before that, it really was about protecting. I’m so angry that Jordan was willing to use my past to hurt you. And even more furious that she used the girls. I never thought her capable of that kind of cruelty—”

“She came to Port Charles working undercover for the DEA,” he reminded Elizabeth. “For her, it’s about making sure no one ever questions her loyalties. That she doesn’t have any soft spots for us. She goes harder than she needs to. I understand it—”

“Jason—”

“But understanding doesn’t mean she gets away with this. I’m looking into a few things,” he said, and she sighed. “We’ll decide it together, I promise.”

“All right.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I wanted to protect you,” she said softly, looking back at the kids. “So you didn’t have to lie. I wanted your alibi to ironclad. I’m not sure I thought much past that or  how it would feel to lie to you. I didn’t like it.”

“I know.” He slid an arm around her waist, tugged her into his side, smiling as the bump of her belly brushed against his body. “I know the feeling,” he added. “And how easy it is to hurt someone you love when all you want to do is shield them.”

She met his eyes. “You’re not mad anymore?”

“No. Sonny reminded me that I’ve done the same to you. And that I’ve taken care of threats to our family that you don’t even know about. He, uh, appreciates the alibi by the way.” Jason kissed her forehead, lingering. “Did it help?” he asked, softly. “You haven’t had any nightmares.”

“Yes. I should have done it years ago. I thought it made me stronger. That it said something about me to let Baker go through the system. But the system wasn’t built for men like him. For people who can’t be fixed. That’s what I realized, standing in that room.  He was never going to stop, and I needed to be the one to stop him. I—” She licked her lips. “I almost wanted him to wake up. To know that it would be me who ended his life.” Tears shimmered. “I don’t know what that makes me—”

“Human,” Jason assured her. “It makes you human. He stole a piece of  you, Elizabeth, that I  don’t think you ever really got back. Maybe you never will. He didn’t deserve to die in his sleep.”

Elizabeth’s lips stretched into a humorless smile. “No. But I deserved to have a life after he stopped breathing, so it was necessary. Thank you. For understanding. For not…”

“You never flinched from me or this life. From what I’m capable of.” He took her hand in his, rubbed his thumb over her wedding ring. “I always knew you’d walk through fire for our family. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Elizabeth snuggled against him and they looked back at their family, her hand resting on her belly. “I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when we tell them about the twins.”

Greystone: Living Room

“No one in this family should sing Christmas carols,” Joss declared, her hands on her hips. “Except Cam. He can hold a note.”

“I don’t sound half bad,” Spencer said with a roll of his eyes. He tossed another handful of tinsel at the humongous tree Sonny had set up for decorating on Christmas year. “I can outsing that townie any day—”

“You’ve lived on Spoon Island for five years out of fifteen.” Trina flopped on the sofa next to Jake who was furiously battling Morgan on the game system. “That makes you the townie, doofus.”

“Nice to know some things will never change,” Elizabeth said. She set a tray of appetizers on the table. “Leave some for everyone else. Not everyone is here yet,” she said as the kids descended on the food. “Patrick and Robin aren’t due for another twenty minutes.”

“Uncle Sonny can just make more,” Joss said. She grinned at Elizabeth, her blue eyes sparkling. “He loves to cook.”

Elizabeth flicked her shoulder, and Joss giggled, more upbeat these last few weeks. Elizabeth started to return to the kitchen, but stopped to look over her shoulder for another glimpse of Joss.

Jason and Sonny were still in the kitchen, her husband sipping a beer as Sonny slid another tray of lasagna into the oven. “Hey, did you tell them to save some food?” Sonny wanted to know.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t count on it.” Elizabeth sipped her water. “The boys are eating everything in sight, and I’m not much better lately.” Her pregnancy had advanced rapidly in the last three weeks, and her belly had doubled in size. She and Jason were holding onto the news about the twins until she was in her third trimester.

“Well, I got a call yesterday that I thought might make the holiday season brighter.” Sonny wiped his hands on the dish towel. Pitching his voice lower, he said, “The tox screen came back negative, and the medical examiner has filed it as undetermined. Officially, the case is closed.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah. And—” Sonny’s lips stretched into a smile, though his eyes were cold. “The Herald will be releasing a bombshell story in the next few days. An anonymous source told them that the commissioner knowingly put some teenage girls in danger as a vendetta. They’ve got leaked surveillance reports to prove it.”

“Will it be enough?” Elizabeth asked softly.

“If it isn’t,” Sonny said, “there are other ways. But I think a few well-placed calls and threats  of lawsuits should get us where we need to be. If Commissioner Ashford hasn’t resigned by New Year’s, we can reassess.”

“Thanks, Sonny,” Jason told him.

“Now that you’re in the clear—” Sonny lifted his brows at Elizabeth. “You considering a side hustle? I could use—”

Jason choked on his beer, then set the bottle down with a thud to glare at his best friend and partner. “That’s not funny.”

Elizabeth snickered which just earned her a dark look from her husband. “Thanks, Sonny, but I’ll leave that to you guys.” She picked up a tray of cookies and disappeared out the door. Jason’s eyes followed her.

“I mean it, Jason. The case is dead. And once the investigation gets leaked, no one is going to be interested in digging it back up. The PCPD is going to want Tom Baker to stay dead and buried.”

“Good.” Jason picked up his beer again. “That’s where he belongs.”

General Hospital: Maternity Ward

Elizabeth went into labor one night in mid-June, just before the end of the school year. They’d only just finished dinner when she’d cried out in pain. Jason had left Jake and Aiden with Cameron, and hustled his wife into the SUV and to the hospital.

Though everything had gone to plan and she’d been healthy throughout the entire pregnancy, Jason couldn’t help but flash back to the last time he’d rushed her to the hospital. As she’d laid bleeding on the floor, unconscious in his arms, and then the fear that lanced through him while he watched Jake be born, and the terror of nearly losing her—

“It’ll be fine,” Elizabeth said as he sped though the night streets. She squeezed his hand as another contraction hit. “We’ll be fine,” she panted.

And then thirteen hours later, as the sun rose over the sky, the first baby was born.

Elizabeth was laughing and crying, her face flushed and hair matted to her face as a nurse laid their son on her chest. “Look at how beautiful he is,” she managed, even as the pain of another contraction whipped through her.

Jason pressed his lips to her forehead. “You both are,” he murmured.

The baby was swept away to be measured and cleaned up after they cut the first cord, Jason doing the honors. And then her labor began again as the second baby demanded their attention—

Four minutes after her brother came into the world, Elizabeth held their daughter in her arms. Both of the babies were small, but the girl smaller than her brother. “Look at her,” Elizabeth breathed. The baby screeched her discomfort and discontent with the world, and Jason could only stare at the miracle of his wife and the children she’d created.

“She’s perfect. They both are.”

Their daughter was taken to be cleaned up, joining her brother under the warming lamp. Exhausted beyond measure, Elizabeth laid back, still panting, everything inside of her on fire. But the babies were here, and they were healthy. She’d done everything she could. She forced her eyes open to look at Jason, smiling faintly at the tears staining his cheek. “What’s this?” she murmured, as he kissed her lightly. She brushed her fingers over the tears. “They’re okay. Everyone is okay.”

“Everyone is perfect,” he told her. “Especially you.” Jason smoothed her hair off her forehead. “I’ve never been here for this part.”

“Well, good thing you’re here now. There’s one for each us,” Elizabeth said as two nurses returned, each holding a swaddle.

“Do we have a name for them?” Britt asked as she stepped back into the room. “You didn’t want to say before—”

“Drake Alan Morgan,” Elizabeth said, looking at her son in Jason’s arms, the safest place to be. “And—” She looked at her daughter. “Paige Audrey.”

“Dr. Drake is going to be insufferable,” Britt offered, but laughed. “Great job, Elizabeth. I’ll check in on you tomorrow, but you did great. Congratulations to you both.”

Later, after Elizabeth had been cleaned up and moved from a delivery suite to a regular hospital room—she couldn’t take her eyes off the plastic crib at her side. At her two gorgeous babies.  Jason had gone for something to eat — she hadn’t had a bite since going into labor the night before.

There was a creak at the door and Elizabeth twisted her head slightly to grin as Patrick came in. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” Patrick kissed her cheek, then went over to stare at the babies. “You didn’t say a word about twins, Webber. That’s a big secret to keep.”

“We meant to tell people,” Elizabeth said, “but I guess I was scared. We read about how difficult the birth could be. And sometimes one baby dies before birth—I guess I thought if I didn’t say it out loud, the universe couldn’t take them away.” She bit her lip. “Silly, I guess.”

“Whatever you needed to get through it.” Patrick brushed a knuckle down the cheek of one baby. “I hear they have special names.”

“Paige and Drake.”

Patrick looked at her, grinning even as his eyes were damp. “Yeah, that’s what I heard. You—you know Steven’s going to kill us both.”

“Let him. You’ve been a better brother to me than anyone else.” Elizabeth realized for the first time he was wearing scrubs. “Are you on a break?”

“No, no.” Patrick grinned. “Turns out we had something in common. Our kids are gonna share a birthday. Robin just got moved down here from Labor and Delivery. Noah Patrick was born about an hour ago.”

“Patrick!” Elizabeth squealed, then winced “Oh. Man. Everything hurts.”

“You might want to relax for a few months after all that.” Patrick kissed her forehead. “Congratulations, Mom.”

“Right back at you, Dad.”

The door open again and Jason came in—joined by all three of their boys.

“Mom! Mom!” Aiden raced in to her bedside, his eyes wide. “Dad said there was two of them!”

“Another brother,” Jake said. “Awesome!”

“And a little sister,” Cameron said with a grin. He went around the side of the bed to look at them. “Which one was born first?”

“Your brother Drake,” Elizabeth said.

“Which means your little sister is  going to have four older brothers to look out for her,” Patrick said. “God help the world when she grows up.”

Elizabeth laughed, then looked at her kids, all crowded around the crib, arguing who got to hold which baby first, and Aiden complaining because as the youngest he wasn’t going to go first—She caught Jason’s eye as he grinned at them.

She’d fought so hard to get to this moment, to have this life. She’d lied, cheated, and even killed for this family. She’d been battered and bruised, but she’d come out stronger, and so had their family.

She couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

THE END

September 16, 2022

This entry is part 24 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 65 minutes


Vista Point

He’d expected her to deny it. To continue lying, or maybe to discover that he’d been horribly mistaken and there was some other explanation for all of this—

Instead his wife had lifted her chin and stated the truth bluntly, the light in her eye suggesting that she wasn’t looking for forgiveness. She’d murdered someone—she and Patrick Drake had plotted to kill someone and had actually gone through with it—and lied about it.

Jason clenched his jaw, took a deep breath. “You injected him,” he repeated. “You.”

“Yes. Patrick was there in case the injection woke him, but I did it. Succinylcholine,” Elizabeth said. “It paralyzes—”

“I know what it does,” Jason bit out, and she closed her mouth. She wasn’t really going to explain how to kill someone without a trace, was she? But then he took another deep breath. “There are tests for that—”

“You have to test specifically for the metabolites which isn’t part of any standard tox screen,” Elizabeth said. She folded her arms. “And it’s even harder to detect in a body that’s begun to decompose.” She finally broke eye contact, looked back over the harbor. “It’ll be weeks before we know if they tested for them, before the tox screen comes back—”

“They didn’t,” Jason said, and she looked back, furrowing her brows. “It was a standard tox screen. I made calls,” he added, a  bit irritated with himself when she just frowned. “As soon as I found out he was dead. I knew.”

Elizabeth exhaled carefully. “I didn’t want to lie to you,” she said. “But if I’d told you, you’d have insisted on handling it yourself—”

“Yes—”

“And I knew Jordan was watching you. Not me, just you and Sonny. You told me that. And she’d never suspect you’d let me do it. I made sure you and Sonny were safe—”

“I don’t need you to protect me—” That was his job, damn it. “Did you know about the pictures? Why didn’t you—”

“No. Not the pictures.  But—” Elizabeth rubbed her chest. “Not long after the dance, I saw Baker in the park. He was watching the girls. It terrified me,” she murmured. “But you were still under surveillance. And I didn’t know what Jordan was watching. If she’d found other ways into your organization. I broke into his house—”

Jason closed his eyes. “You—”

“I am not some amateur,” Elizabeth cut in sharply, and he focused on her again. “I watched him first. I understood his schedule. I know how to pick a lock. I went into the house, and I saw the photos. And I realized she had to know. Those photographs—she had to. There were too many.”

He’d find out if Jordan Ashford had been aware the girls were being stalked— “There were pictures of you.”

“I know.” Her voice faltered a bit, and some of his fury faded. “I know,” she repeated. “I saw them. He followed Joss that night, Jason. My worst nightmare. He wasn’t going to stop until someone stopped him. I should have done it two decades ago. I went inside to see if I could. And then I went to Patrick. We bought cars in cash and I got rid of them both, just the way Luke taught me—”

Jason grimaced, but acknowledged the information with a nod. “What else?” Was there a trail he needed to handle—

“Patrick and I went to the drug store so there’d be a receipt if anyone asked. We made sure the window was small if anyone looked into us, but I knew Jordan wouldn’t. She didn’t even check with the hospital to see if we were scheduled. We burned the clothes we were wearing—”

“The succinylcholine?”

“Patrick knows how to work the system at the hospital,” Elizabeth said. “It’s an outdated med dispensary. We’re always off on the count. The only mistake I made was the one I made with you.” She huffed. “Starbursts,” she muttered, obviously disgusting with herself, and Jason had to admit that she’d thought of almost everything. And he knew that she’d left no trace behind in the house. Jordan would have found it by now.

And still — “You lied to me. And you let Baker walk around for two more weeks—what if he’d gone after the girls?” Jason demanded. “I could have handled it—”

“Maybe.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe. But you wouldn’t have let me do it. You would have made me stay home.”

Jason shook his head, turned away from her, his hands at his waist. He was so goddamn angry—the blood was pounding in his head, in his chest, everything felt like it was going to explode — “You’re pregnant—”

“And if I hadn’t been, you would have let me be part of it?” she demanded caustically, and he scowled. “No. You would have just taken care of it. Like you offered when he first got out. This was mine—”

“And Patrick’s—”

“Because he’d follow me,” she retorted, and he fell silent. “He wouldn’t try to protect me. I lied to you because there’s no reasoning with you sometimes. I can handle myself, Jason. I’ve   carried three other children. I know what I can handle. I’ve been in car accidents. I’ve been held hostage. I’ve nearly died giving birth—”

“Elizabeth—”

“And you heard Britt. I’m perfectly healthy. All I did was drive to a house, pick a lock, and shove a needle inside the monster plotting to hurt more girls. If I hadn’t been there that night, Jason, we’d be picking up the pieces of Joss right now. But you wouldn’t have let me do what needed to be done.”

“No, I wouldn’t have,” Jason snapped. “You think you’ve got everything, including me, handled. But what about Patrick? Do you think Robin is happy about any of this? You think she doesn’t know? As soon as she found out Baker died on Thanksgiving, she knew—”

“Years ago, when I was furious that Luke had killed Helena first—before Laura or I could even get our hands on her—you told me that you were relieved.” Her eyes burned into his. “Because something like this stays with you. You were glad I didn’t have to.”

“Elizabeth—”

“And I warned you then. I told you who I was. What I knew I could do. I would have strangled that evil bitch with my bare hands and danced on her grave! Did you think I was bluffing?”

“No—” Mystified at how the argument had turned, he just shook his head. “No—”

“You were glad that my hands were clean. It was fine to kill Stavros in the heat of the moment, but you don’t want me to get dirty. Like you.”

“That—Okay, that’s what I said then, but—”

“And it’s how you feel right now. You’re angry that I did this. That I didn’t just plot a murder, but that I actually went through with it.” Her eyes glimmered with tears. “I killed him, and then I shared Thanksgiving dinner with my children. And the only reason you even know is I slipped up with my cover story. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment—”

“You’re twisting this around,” Jason interrupted. “I’m angry because you put yourself at risk without telling me—that you lied to me about it when you damn well know that I had the connections to get it done without a trace—”

She swiped at her eyes, and laughed bitterly. “You don’t even hear yourself, do you? I didn’t need your connections, Jason. I have my own. I killed my rapist—” Elizabeth flattened her hand against her chest. “I killed my monster. Not yours. Helena was mine. Stavros was only aiming at you because of me and my history. It’s okay for you to take care of crime in your world without discussing it—but I can’t do the same?”

“I’m not arguing about this anymore.” Jason went past her, heading for the parking lot, irritated. She just didn’t understand—

She followed him back to his bike, took the helmet he offered, just staring at him with sadness in her eyes—and a hint of disappointment. “I didn’t want to lie to you. But it was the only way—”

“We’ll never know because you didn’t trust me.”

“Would you have let me into that house, to be the one to kill him?” Elizabeth asked. “If I told you it needed to be me?”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it, troubled by the question. He didn’t know the answer.  He climbed on the bike, and without another word, drove them home.

Scorpio-Drake House: Kitchen

Patrick studied the menu in his hands. “How many pizzerias does one town need?” he wanted to know when Robin came through the door. “This is the third new flyer in the last month—”

“Did you kill Tom Baker?”

The question fell out of her mouth before Robin even knew she was going to ask it. Her husband froze, then lowered the menu, their eyes meeting.

“You can tell me,” Robin hurried to add. “Even if you—if you didn’t do it alone—I’m your wife. I can’t tell anyone what you said even about someone else—”

“I’ve got a passing familiarity with spousal privilege,” Patrick said, finally finding his voice. “Yes. I didn’t do the final deed. But I secured the means, drove to the house, and went inside. I watched it happen. And then I came home. That makes me just as liable.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, then Robin bit her lip. “Did you know about the photos?”

“No. I didn’t. Not until I saw them. He was watch Emma, Robin. He was watching our little girl. And he was there the night of the dance.” A muscle ticked in his cheek, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “If Elizabeth and I hadn’t hung out that night, if she hadn’t doubled back—it might have been Joss. It might have been any of them. But he stole photos of Emma from my locker. They’re both pinned on that board.”

Her hands were shaking as Robin dragged them through her hair, digesting that news. “He was stalking her, then.”

“He must have seen her around Elizabeth. Knew Emma was special to her. And—”

“And Emma has superficial resemblance to Elizabeth,” Robin finished, her stomach lurching. “Oh, God. Our baby.”

“The system didn’t protect Elizabeth. I couldn’t take the chance. Not with Emma. Not with any of those girls.” Patrick folded the menu and set it on the counter. “I understand if you think less of me. If it changes how you feel about me—”

“No. No.” Maybe it should, Robin thought. But she’d seen rape victims over the years, and she had some sense of how Elizabeth had struggled. The thought of her precious baby being shattered that way— “No, I’m glad he’s dead. We’ll—we’ll let it go. We’ll put it away.” She closed the distance between them, his eyes staying on her hers. “I can let it go.”

“Okay.” He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs fanning out over her jaw. “I’m sorry I had to lie to you.”

“You’re not very good at it.”

“I didn’t—” Patrick stopped. “If you know, then—”

“Jason and I know. Or suspected. I don’t know if he’s asked Elizabeth yet.  He said it looks like the PCPD doesn’t have anything yet, but he’ll make sure it goes away.”

“I should tell her he suspects. We didn’t want to lie, but Elizabeth—” Patrick hesitated.  “There just wasn’t another way.”

“No. I can see that, I guess.” She kissed the corner of his jaw. “Thank you for protecting our daughter.”

Greystone: Study

Sonny offered Jason a drink, but the younger man just shook his head and stalked across the room to glare out the terrace doors. Sonny poured himself a bourbon and took a seat, considering the situation.

“What’s the part that’s making you the most angry?” Sonny wanted to know.  Jason turned to him, a scowl etched into his expression. “The lie or the crime?”

“Damn it—” Jason clenched his fists. “My wife just admitted to committing murder, and you want to me to pick which part makes me the most angry—”

“How many men have you killed to protect Elizabeth and the boys?” Sonny asked idly, and Jason stared at him. “There was that guy who set the bomb all those years ago. It’s why you left and went to Puerto Rico. And the one who kidnapped her. A few Russians. Some Cassadine guards—”

“Sonny—”

“Your wife,” Sonny said slowly, “saw a threat to her family and she eliminated it. Just the way you’ve done over and over again.”

Jason’s shoulders slumped and he sat on the sofa. “She thinks I’m angry because she got her hands dirty,” he muttered. “I said something a few years ago about being glad she didn’t have to be the one to kill Helena—that her hands were clean—” Sonny winced. “She was angry at me then, but I didn’t realize she’d held on to that. I’m not—this isn’t about that.”

“It’s a little about that,” Sonny said, and Jason’s scowl returned. “You hated when the violence touched her. When it came near your family. But you always hated it more than she did. And every single time she tried to show you she could handle it, you ran as far and as fast as you could in the opposite direction.”

“I—” Had done exactly that, though he hadn’t seen it that way. “Maybe.”

“She knows who you are, Jason. Always has. She never flinched from any of this.” Sonny leaned forward. “She lied to you because she didn’t want you to realize that she wanted to be the one to kill Baker. She was scared you’d flinch from her. And then you did exactly that.”

“My face changed,” Jason murmured. Sonny frowned, and his friend looked at him. “I don’t care that she killed him. I don’t. I’m glad he’s dead.”

“I’m a little impressed with her, honestly. She ever decides to make this a second career—” Sonny winced when Jason glared at him. “Kidding.”

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny.” Sonny got to his feet. “You’re glad Baker’s dead. And maybe Elizabeth got some satisfaction from doing the deed. Some closure. The girls are safe. And, cherry on top, Elizabeth pulled off what might be the perfect crime. Go home. Tell her you love her and that you understand. Because you damn well know about taking a life to protect others.”

“Sonny—”

“And tell her I appreciate the alibi. I enjoyed having Diane tell Jordan that she should ask a trio of former commissioners where I was all day.” Sonny sipped his bourbon. “We’ll make sure the case gets buried, Jason. Go home to your wife and family. You have a woman who’d kill to keep you and the kids safe. We should all be so lucky.”

September 10, 2022

This entry is part 8 of 10 in the The Last Time

Written in 65 minutes.


27
Run fast, nowhere to hide

Her mother was probably the last person Sam wanted to see right now, but she forced herself to smile as she let Alexis into the penthouse. “I know. I’ve been avoiding your calls.”

“I would have come over yesterday,” Alexis said, “when I heard what happened, but I thought maybe you needed some space.” She looked around the penthouse. “Jason isn’t here?”

“No.” Sam closed the door, rested her forehead against it. “He left. Yesterday. He came in after being out all night at the hospital, packed a bag, and left. I haven’t heard from him.”

Her mother said nothing, so Sam turned to look at her, a bit suspicious. “You’re not going to tell me I’m better off?”

“I made a mistake last year,” Alexis said gently. “I was just—I was so scared, Sam. I’d just  found out, and I was terrified I’d lose you—but I never should have pushed Jason when he was already struggling—”

“I wish I could blame you. It’d be easy. I blamed you for everything else wrong in my life.” Sam sighed, wandered over to the sofa. “Blamed you for my daughter’s death, even though placental abruption is often fatal. Especially when it comes without warning. Blamed you for Danny’s death—”

“Sam—”

“Blamed you for Manny, too.” Sam sat on the edge of the sofa, her hands fisted in the cushions next to her, staring blindly at the coffee table. “And I blamed you for Jason leaving. So I decided to hurt you both.” She closed her eyes. “You knew that, didn’t you? That it wasn’t spur of the moment. I wanted to hurt you, Mom.”

“I know.” Alexis sat in the chair next to the sofa, and waited for Sam to look at her. “Did it make you feel better?”

“Do you want the truth?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“It did. It felt good. For about an hour.” Sam’s smile was wistful now as she looked away, staring again at the coffee table. “And then the regret set in. Because the only way for it to work as revenge would be to make sure you knew. That Jason knew. So I got up and went to tell him. I got all the way to the Towers, to the penthouse. Up all those stairs—and I couldn’t do it.” Her voice shook. “I knew it would hurt him so much. And then I though about you. And Kristina and Molly. And how it would hurt everyone.” She swiped at her tears. “I wish I’d let that matter before I did it.”

Sam took a deep breath. “You pushed Jason into leaving me last year, Mom, but you didn’t hold a gun to his head. He chose to do it. And he chose to keep pushing me away until I was angry enough to lash out. You were right, by the way. About what I was letting it turn me into. I was nothing without Jason. No one. And now—” She waited a moment. “He found out last night about the baby. He didn’t know the whole time.”

“Sam—”

“I’ve been sitting here, angry at myself because I didn’t handle it well. I—I pushed at him, and I definitely jumped down his throat because he spent the night at the hospital with Elizabeth. I was  telling myself that if I had just let him breathe, if I’d let him go to sleep or take a minute, he’d still be here.” Sam looked at Alexis. “I can’t have children because of what Manny did to me. And Manny was aiming for Jason when he shot me. It’s not Jason’s fault. Not really. I took the risk. But I was arrogant. I thought I could handle whatever this life threw at me. But I can’t have children. Ever. That’s done for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Alexis said. “I don’t know what else to say—”

Sam swiped at stray tear. “I could make him feel bad, you know. I could have used this to keep him with me. Make him feel guilty for having a child with another woman when I can’t. I spent all day yesterday trying to think of how to do it.” She shoved herself off the sofa, went over to the terrace doors, folding her arms around her torso. “I could still maybe pull it off. If I play it right. I know how to do it. I managed to seduce your husband in about six weeks. I could get Jason back.” She looked at Alexis. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Alexis rose and crossed the room, her fingertips trailing over the green felt of the pool table. “I know what happened and why. It’s my choice to forgive you. I’ve made it.”

“I don’t deserve it, but thanks.” Sam closed her eyes. “I could get Jason back,” she repeated. “And there’s such a big part of me that wants it. Because I liked who I was when we were together. I liked that he made me feel strong and capable. I think he was the only man I’ve ever been with who came close to knowing who I really am. And he loved me anyway. For a little while.”

She scratched her arm absently as her mother remained silent behind her. “But Jason doesn’t love me anymore. It would end in tears and anger and we’d hate each other if we kept clinging to whatever this was. He’d see the pieces of me I’ve locked away—and he’d lose what little respect or warmth he has for me.” She exhaled in a rush of air. “Despite that, I’m still tempted.”

“You could do all of that,” Alexis said, “or you could pack your things and come home to me and your sisters. And we’ll figure out what’s next together.”

“You’d still want me in your home?” Sam wanted to know. “After everything I’ve done. After what I’ve said today?”

“Yes, I do. You need to be around people who love you.” Alexis tipped her head. “And I think we can both agree that I’ve got some sense of those pieces you’re afraid Jason will see. And I love you, anyway. So, will you try to grab a few more months with Jason or will you come home with me?”

28
Just you and me

Elizabeth peeked through the window and sighed when she saw Lucky standing on her grandmother’s porch. She rested a hand on her belly, felt the reassuring kick of the baby. Then looked at her grandmother. “I don’t know if I want to answer it.”

“I’ll be right here,” Audrey promised. “Or I can tell him to go away.” She rose and crossed to Elizabeth even as Lucky rang the bell a second time. “You said you were sorry that he found out the way he did. Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Gram—”

“Not for reconciliation,” Audrey said hastily. “But closure.”

Elizabeth sighed, and went to open the door. Lucky blinked in surprise, nearly dropping the manila envelope he held. “Lucky.”

“Uh. Hey. Hi. I—” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I thought maybe we could talk. For a minute.”

“Yeah, sure. Come in.” Elizabeth stepped aside, and when he entered, she closed the door. “How are you?”

“Fine, I guess. Staying with Nikolas for a few days just to keep my head on straight.” He nodded. “Mrs. Hardy.”

“Lucky.” Audrey looked at Elizabeth who nodded. “I’ll go check on Cameron. He’s napping upstairs.”

When her grandmother had disappeared up the stairs, Lucky looked at Elizabeth. “How are you feeling? I, uh, know you were in the hospital overnight—”

“I’m good. Kelly was just worried about the cramping I had while we were held hostage. And my blood pressure. She’s got me on light rest.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I’m not sorry that the truth is out there,” she said, “but I wish it hadn’t been that way. It was so public and I know that’s been hard—”

“It was a bad night.” Lucky stared down at the envelope in his hands. “You were tired. Dehydrated. I’m angry at you,” he confessed. “So angry that I almost can’t breathe.”

Elizabeth flinched, cleared her throat. “I know—”

“But I’m angrier at myself.” He raised his eyes, met hers. “Before I got hurt, we were so good. You, me, and Cam. We were a family. You were worried about the pain meds from the start. I know that. I couldn’t see it. I didn’t think of myself as being weak.”

“Lucky—”

“I wanted to be angry that you’d had an affair—I wanted to see it as proof that I’d been right all along, but—” He swallowed hard. “I think maybe that’s just me looking for someone else to blame. I thought it was Patrick, but I was wrong—”

“It was one night,” Elizabeth said. “The blackout. After I found out about Maxie.” She folded her arms. “I was planning to leave you, but then I came home and you were going to a meeting. You wanted to get clean. And I wanted to believe in you. In us.”

Lucky nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay. I can—I can be okay with that. Um—” He looked away. “I don’t really know what to do with any of this. I’m angry because you lied, but I know you had reasons. But it doesn’t really stop me from hating you. I don’t want to, but—” He held up the envelope. “Our divorce is almost final. I was going to bring these to dinner to tear up. So we could try again. I was just going to throw them out, but…” He handed it to her. “I signed them. I know that doesn’t matter because the divorce will be final anyway, but I didn’t sign them before. I made you go through the court. To give us more time. To give me more time to convince you to forgive me.”

Elizabeth held the papers against her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That it ended this way. I loved you so much, Lucky. I wanted so much more for us.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” He slid his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels. “I wanted—I wanted you to know that I love Cam. That I always will. But I’m angry at you,” he repeated. “So maybe we just walk away. You’re gonna have this baby, and Jason—” He closed his eyes.

“Lucky—”

“No. You’ll have this baby, and Jason will be there. And he’s—he’s an okay guy. I mean, I liked him just fine when we were kids. And he’s a good father. Maybe it’ll be easier for you if I’m out of the picture.”

“What about you?” Elizabeth asked. “Cam loves you—”

“He’s young,” Lucky said, but he looked away, swallowing hard. “And being a good father isn’t always about holding on. It’s about knowing when to walk. I’m angry at you,” he said once again, and this time when he looked at her, she saw the fury he’d been hiding. The flare of his nostrils. The tension in his shoulders. “Right now, I’m keeping it together because we’ve been through hell. And you’re pregnant. And because I can remember that this wasn’t some sort of deliberate plan. But I think it’s better for you and me if this is the end. Because I can’t promise I’ll always feel that way. When you have that baby, and I remember it was supposed to be mine—” Lucky’s jaw clenched. “We’re done now. The divorce will be final. We both walk away with what we came with.”

He strode past her, yanked open the door, and left. Elizabeth looked after him, her eyes stinging with tears. “Goodbye,” she said softly. She felt the baby kick again, and reminded herself that Lucky had a right to his anger, and he had a right to walk away. He’d never adopted Cameron and hadn’t really sought him out after Elizabeth had moved out, but—

Oh, it hurt to know that her little boy was losing the only daddy he’d ever known. Lucky had just assumed Jason would step in, and Elizabeth knew he was right—but it didn’t make it right. It didn’t make it okay that Lucky could be Cameron’s father for over two years and then walk away because of her mistake, assuming another man would pick up his responsibilities.

As much as Lucky had railed against his father, he wasn’t much better than Luke who had walked out on his daughter when Laura hadn’t quite measured up.

29
This is the last time I’m asking you this

Jason picked up the note that Sam had left on the desk, staring at the contents, trying to digest it. He’d had a call from the front desk that Sam had left with her mother—and that there had been suitcases.

He’d decided to venture back to the penthouse to find out—and sure enough—Sam’s dresser and closet had been cleared out. She was gone.

I hope whatever you’re looking for makes you happy. You were kind to me when you didn’t have to be, and you took care of me when I was nothing more than the bitch ruining your best friend’s marriage. I hope one day we can both remember the good we brought to each other.

It was a generous note, one he certainly didn’t deserve after the way he’d acted the day before. After he’d finally slept for more than two hours, this morning, he’d woken up with a fair bit of embarrassment and regret. Not that he and Sam had broken up — it had been overdue, but he wished it had been handled better.

And then he’d gone to Elizabeth the news of the break up as if it was something that would magically change her mind about marrying him—Jason was lucky she was still talking to him—

There was a sharp knock on his door, but before Jason could even turn towards it, Carly was pushing it open. “Finally!” She rushed towards him, hugging tightly. “I’ve been looking for you for ages!”

“What did you need?” Jason asked, hugging her back, then pushing her away gently. “Is everything okay?”

“What? How can you ask me that?” Carly’s eyes were wide and she slapped his chest. “I’m here for you! I can’t believe this! She lied to us all! I always knew she was a manipulative bitch just looking to get her claws into you—as soon as she had the chance—”

Jason scowled, dropping Sam’s note on the desk. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded. “Are you talking about Elizabeth?”

“Of course.” Carly hissed. “You’ve forgiven her, haven’t you? Why can’t you see—”

“I’m not listening to this—”

“No! She saw her chance in that stupid elevator—and look what happened! You walked into that elevator in love with Sam and then you broke up with her! Elizabeth is using that baby and your father’s death—”

“Don’t stay another word—” Jason whirled around and stabbed a finger at Carly. “Not one more word.”

Carly closed her mouth, but the silence only lasted for a minute. “You always defend her! She lied to you! She’s just using you—”

“If she’s just using me, then why did she refuse to marry me?” Jason wanted to know, out of patience with the woman who claimed to be his best friend. “I’ve asked her more than once.”

That threw Carly and she actually stopped to think about it. He could see the wheels turning in her head, trying to make sense of it. “She refused,” she echoed.

“I asked her twice last fall,” Jason bit out. “And then three more times yesterday. So go ahead, Carly. Explain that to me. If Elizabeth’s trying to manipulate her way into my life, lying about the paternity and refusing to marry me doesn’t really play, does it?”

“If she refused to marry you, she’s dumber than I thought—” Carly furrowed her brow. “Or there’s something else she wants. She just wants you to grovel. That’s what it is. She wants you to beg her to marry you. Or do declare your undying love—”

Jason had been heading for the stairs, intending to get a shower and ignore Carly, but those words stopped him in his tracks and he turned back. “What?”

“She wants something from you, of course. No woman would be dumb enough to turn you down. Especially not Elizabeth who has been running after you since she met you,” Carly spat. “You’re not giving her what she wants. Maybe it’s money—”

What she wants. It was so simple, Jason really shouldn’t have needed Carly to point it out. “You’re right,” he said, and Carly was so stunned that she stopped in mid sentence.

“I am?” She cleared her throat. “Of course I am. So that’s why—”

“That’s why I can’t ask her to marry me again until I’m ready to give her what she wants,” Jason said. “Thank you, Carly. You’ve been a big help.” He took her by the elbow. “Now go home before you ruin it.”

“Uh, okay, but—”

Jason closed the door on her face, flipped the deadlock, and went upstairs to shower. He had to think about this before he took any more action.