Category Archives: Flash Fiction

July 8, 2022

This entry is part 39 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 51 minutes.

Thursday, February 3, 2000

PCPD: Squad Room

“Wait here,” Jason murmured to Elizabeth by the doors. “I’m just going to talk to Alexis, and then we’ll get out of here.”

“All right.” Elizabeth caught his hand as he started to walk away. “Hey.” He looked back at her. “None of this is your fault,” she told him. “It’s not.”

He squeezed her hand, then released it. She was wrong, of course, but he appreciated the attempt. If he’d told Sonny weeks ago, if he’d found a way to do it more quietly, he could have kept this from blowing up.

But instead, he’d waited. He’d been selfish, trying to protect himself and Michael, and not doing what was right. Now Sonny had been arrested for assault and trespassing, Carly was in the wind, and Michael’s life was going to be destroyed anyway. All Jason had done with his silence was delay the inevitable.

“Hey.” Alexis emerged from the interrogation room with a sigh. “Alan’s holding firm on the charges of trespassing, and right now, AJ’s not in the mood to deal.”

Jason scrubbed his hands down his face. “They’ll back down eventually,” he muttered. “To protect the name. The last thing they want is to be splashed over the papers with all of this.”

“You’re probably right. When Edward gets down here,” Alexis continued, “I suspect he’ll talk to Alan. AJ’s angry. Humiliated. Which he has a right to be, I guess—” She bit her lip. “I don’t think I can get Sonny out today. Maybe later tonight if I can get a quick arraignment, but—”

“That’s fine.” Jason glanced back at Elizabeth, then at Taggert who was glaring in her direction. “I need time to track Carly down and it’s easier if—”

“Why bother?” Alexis wanted to know. “What purpose—”

“I don’t care about her,” Jason interrupted. “But Carly’s angry. And panicking. She does her worst damage at this point. Shooting Tony, having me arrested for kidnapping—” He shook his head. “And she’s going to take it out on me. The last time she did that—”

“Right.” Alexis held up a finer. “Excuse me.” She stalked towards Taggert who had just stood. “Going somewhere?” she asked coolly. Taggert tore his eyes away from Elizabeth and looked at the attorney.

“I just thought I’d ask—”

“She’s represented by counsel and there’s an injunction against this department. You’re not allowed to breathe in her direction until the internal investigation against Capelli is completed,” Alexis reminded him. “And we’re still reserving our right to sue—”

“I didn’t—”  Taggert took a deep breath. “None of that is my fault—”

“No?” Alexis arched a brow, then tapped the shield he wore on a chain around his neck. “This makes it your fault. You were the lead officer on that search and you knew from prior encounters that Capelli was overly aggressive and angry with my client. You let him into that penthouse. You let him go upstairs to search her personal posessions. You let her go upstairs with him—”

“She went on her own—”

“Protect and serve,” Alexis cut in. “You stayed downstairs to harass Jason, and you let Capelli loose. Her wedding dress, by the way, couldn’t be repaired.”

Taggert grimaced, then looked over at Elizabeth again who just stared back at him. He returned his attention to Alexis. “You and I both know she’s protecting him. That she knows something about Moreno’s murder—”

“Prove it,” Alexis challenged. “Until then, stay away from my clients. Slapping a badge on your chest doesn’t make you a good man. You should know better than that.”

Jason waited for Alexis to back into the interrogation room before joining Elizabeth again. “Hey. Let’s get out of here.”

“Definitely.’

Quartermaine Mansion: Family Room

AJ stared at the minibar, at the decanter of vodka that was kept there. The glass tumblers by its side.

He’d thought Carly’s pregnancy was karma—the universe returning the favor and allowing AJ some revenge. He’d get to raise his brother’s child. He deserved that much, didn’t he?

But he’d been right that day with Carly — she was the punishment he deserved for what he’d done to his brother, what he’d done to his family. He’d been in this room with his parents, trying to block out the sound of their disappointment, the vision of their disgust—and Jason had been there, trying to make peace.

He’d give anything for that moment back, for just a chance. He’d go upstairs and sleep off the drunk, he’d wake up with a hangover but maybe then he’d go to rehab—

But there was no redemption. You couldn’t be forgiven for murder, and it didn’t matter if Jason hadn’t died. His brother, his beloved little brother, would never come home. It was worse, somehow, than death.

He deserved what Carly had done to him, and maybe he deserved even worse. He deserved to die himself, didn’t he? What kind of father could he ever be with his past, with his crimes?

As if in a trance, AJ reached for the vodka and poured himself a glass.

“Don’t—”

AJ turned and found Ned in the doorway, his hand up. “Don’t do it, AJ.”

“What’s the point?” AJ asked. He closed his eyes, wrapped both hands around the glass, letting the warmth of alcohol seep into his body. “Why bother staying sober?”

“For your son,” Ned said gently. He reached AJ and took the glass away. AJ didn’t fight. “Carly was a mistake. You did your best to give Michael a family, but that’s over now. She’s given you what you need to get her out your life for good. We’ll find her, AJ. You’ll serve her with papers, and it’ll finally be over.” Ned poured the vodka back into the glass. “Carly’s not worth this.”

“I—” AJ swallowed hard. “I wanted it to work. I really tried.”

“I know you did.”

“I even asked Jason for permission,” he said. He met Ned’s eyes. “After you talked to me — I thought — I’ll get Jason’s blessing. And instead—”

“Instead, Jason decided to come forward. He must have been waiting. Maybe he thought it was your child. That there was a chance. Did you tell him there wasn’t?”

“Yeah.” AJ managed a laugh. “Yeah, I did. I tried to do the wrong thing in the right way. I guess I got what I deserved.” He exhaled slowly. “I won’t drink, Ned. Not tonight.”

“That’s enough then. We’ll take care of tomorrow when it comes.” Ned put his arm around AJ’s shoulders. “Let’s go upstairs. We’ll go see Michael, okay?”

“Okay.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason set the receiver down and put his head in his hands. Nothing. No sign of her. How the hell had Carly been able to disappear?

He glanced over when Elizabeth came through the door, her bag slung over her shoulder. “Hey. How was class?”

“Fine.” She dumped the bag on the sofa, then leaned against the side of the desk where he sat. “No luck?”

“No.” Jason leaned back, looking towards the ceiling. “She did this before. When Michael was born. She disappeared.”

“I remember.”

“There were decisions that had to be made about Michael. About his health. And he didn’t even have a name. I could have told the truth then.” He tilted his chin back down to look at her. “I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d promised her,” Jason said. “And I knew what the Quartermaines would do. She’d never get the baby back. They’d used her leaving against them, and I just thought—she deserved a chance. But I should have told the truth.”

“You’re saying that now, two years later, because you have the advantage of knowing what she was capable of,” Elizabeth said gently. “Give yourself a break, Jason. You did the best yo could at the time, and Michael’s better off for it. Maybe there were other times you could have told, but you’re only human. And you loved him. I know how much you still love him. He’ll always be a little bit yours.”

“I just—she’s out there,”  Jason said slowly, “angry, scared, and panicking. And planning.”

“Jason, what can she do?” Elizabeth wanted to know. “I mean, to you? To Sonny? Or the Quartermaines?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He didn’t really have all that much to take, he thought. He had Lila and Emily. He had Elizabeth. What else could Carly really do? He reached out for Elizabeth’s hands and drew her down to sit in his lap, holding her close. She tucked her head under his chin. He traced her wedding ring with the tip of his index finger.

“You’re doing the best you can, Jason. Carly, Sonny, and AJ are adults who can make their own mistakes.”

“Yeah. I’ll just feel better if she’s somewhere where she can be watched.” Jason exhaled slowly, then stroked Elizabeth’s back. “But there’s nothing else I can do until she makes a mistake and we find her.”

“Then I think—” Elizabeth shifted until she was straddling him, one knee on each side. “I think we should find something else to do.” She arched a brow. “I’m really tired of talking about Carly.”

“Me, too.” Jason grinned then, and swallowed her gasp with his mouth as he abruptly stood. He set her on the desk, and she parted her legs so he could get closer.

“You know, the desk is on my list,” Elizabeth teased as she nipped his lips. “Right after the shower.”

Friday, February 4, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

The call came early the next morning — so early that the sun hadn’t yet broken through the clouds. Elizabeth stirred, then groaned, shoving her face deeper into the pillow. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled.

Jason slid his arm from beneath her and reached for his cell on the nightstand. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Call me if she moves.” He hung up and rolled back towards Elizabeth. “Hey.” He brushed his lips over her hair. “I have to go.”

“Okay,” she mumbled. She shifted onto her side to peer at him blearily. “Call me if you need me.”

“Go back to sleep.” He kissed her gently, then went to confront Carly, promising himself this would be the last time.

Motel

Carly yanked open the door and smirked at him. “Took you long enough. You’re getting slow.”  She stepped back, as if she meant to let him in.

“I’m not staying,”  Jason said flatly. “You can come back with me, or I’ll wait until you leave, then follow you. I’ve already called the Quartermaines to tell them where you are.”

“So AJ can serve me?” Carly rolled her eyes and leaned against the doorway. “Or so Sonny can?”

“Does it matter?”

“Well, you can tell Sonny not to bother.” She tossed back her hair, then glared at him defiantly. “He has nothing to do with this—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Jason said tightly. “Not again—”

“I’m not,” she shot back. “I did what I should have done weeks ago. Lucky for me, New York doesn’t have a waiting period because the last thing I need is to be fighting two custody battles. So I took care of it.”

Jason stared at her for a long time, then swallowed hard. Waiting period. New York didn’t have a waiting period. “You had an abortion.”

“The right to choose and all,” Carly said. She folded her arms. “Go ahead. Judge me. I don’t care.”

He exhaled slowly, then shook his head. “I’m not going to do that,” he said, and she blinked at him. “You’re right. It’s your choice. It’s always been your choice. You’ve made all the choices, and I’ve just followed your lead. I guess we’re all better off if you’re not dealing with Sonny in court.”

She clearly hadn’t expected that. “Wait—”

Jason glanced behind him at the sound of another car pulling into the empty space next to his bike. He stepped aside, waiting for Ned to get out, a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Good luck, Carly. You’ll need it.”

“She’s all yours,” he told Ned as he passed him.

“Thanks.” Ned turned to Carly and handed her the paperwork with the divorce and custody petitions. “You’ve been served. Have a nice day.”

July 6, 2022

This entry is part 3 of 5 in the ZFlash - Watch

Written in 43 minutes.

 

 

Confronting Lucky had felt good at the time, but as the day continued, Jason started to have his doubts. Elizabeth had warned him that her custody issues with Lucky were going to get bad, and he’d known that Lucky was trying to stay in Jake’s life. The last thing Elizabeth needed was Jason getting in the middle when he was so close to being in Jake’s life full-time.

The worry that he’d done something to harm her chances gnawed at him long enough that he decided he needed a second opinion. Unfortunately for him, Diane wasn’t in the mood to help.

“I cannot discuss Elizabeth’s case with you,” Diane sniffed as she swept into the office at the warehouse. She wrinkled her nose as she took in the dingy, cramped room where Jason did the books, but offered no verbal opinion. “You wanted her to have the best attorney possible. That comes with some drawbacks—”

“I’m not—” Jason scowled and shoved himself to his feet. “I’m not asking for state secrets. Or even anything about her case.”

“No?” Diane arched an eyebrow. “Then what exactly am I here for?”

“I’m asking as Jake’s biological father,” Jason said, his teeth clenched, “what can Lucky do about visitation and can he keep me away my son?”

Diane pursed her lips, folded her arms. “Speaking in general terms, stepparents don’t usually have a lot of power to push for visitation or continued contact. It’s unfortunate when there’s a longstanding relationship, but the court defers to biology.” She hesitated. “There’s a nuance to this case that a family court judge might entertain as Lucky is the parent on the birth certificate and has provided support as the father for the last three months.”

Jason’s heart sank. “So he can win.”

“If I were in court arguing for your right to visitation,” Diane began, “I would win. You’re the biological father looking to establish contact.  Beyond that, Jason, I honestly can’t tell you much more. You’d be better off asking Elizabeth. I can’t even meet with both of you sine you are not party to the case. Any meeting with a third-party won’t attach attorney-client privilege.”

He was frustrated by that answer, but Diane was devoted to her profession, and he wanted Elizabeth to have everything she needed to get Lucky out of her life. It wasn’t her fault. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Elizabeth is my client,” Diane reminded him as she picked up her purse. “I plan to give her the best advice to maintain full custody of her boys.”

“That’s a goal,” Jason said with a nod, even though he wondered if the best way for Elizabeth to keep the boys and get rid of Lucky would be to eliminate Jason from the equation. What would he do if that was the answer?

Robin marked the patient’s dosage adjustment in a chart, then handed it to Leyla Mir, the nurse on duty. “Thanks,” she told her. “That’s effective with the next round.”

“I’ll take care of it.” The pretty, dark-haired woman disappeared around the corner, and Robin turned to Emily.

“Nikolas wants me to go to dinner with him,” Emily said, with a sigh. She flipped through the charts at the desk. “I told him I’d think about it. Am I insane? Should I just go for it?”

“As the queen of overthinking everything,” Robin said, “I am definitely not the person to ask for advice.”

“After everything we’ve been through—” Emily set down her pen. “It would be stupid to waste time. You know? After losing my dad this year—” Her voice faltered slightly, then her tone firmed. “But I don’t know. I don’t want to go back. Or rest on nostalgia.”

“I get it. Jason and I dated way past our expiration date,” Robin reminded. “Everything about that last year was just postponing the inevitable. And look at Lucky and Elizabeth. They kept trying to go back, and where are they know? Miserable and fighting bitterly in court.”

“Yeah. That’s a good point. Right now, I’m lonely,” Emily admitted. “That’s why Elizabeth and I moved in together. Nikolas wants me to remember how good it was, and he’s not wrong, but it was also terrible. At he humiliated me at the end—” She took a deep breath. “I just can’t.”

“Fear of being alone can make you do terrible things,” Robin said softly. “I put up with Carly and lying about Michael because I thought no other man would ever want me with the HIV. I’m so glad I got out of it, even if I had to burn everything down around me.”

“I’m glad you did.” Emily made a face. “If you hadn’t told AJ about Michael, Jason might have ended up with Carly. That would have been a disaster.”

Elizabeth answered the door with Jake perched on her hip and half-twisted away from the door to remind Cameron that he couldn’t just touch everything because it was in front of him—she barely registered Jason at the door before Cameron reached out for one of her grandmother’s glass sculptures she’d left on the coffee table by mistake. “Cameron—here—” She shoved Jake at Jason and hurried across the room.

“What did I tell you—” Elizabeth snatched up the dolphin, and Cameron blinked up at her with his wide blue eyes. “Cameron.”

“But it’s fish. I like fish.”

Elizabeth put the dolphin into the curio cabinet she’d brought from Audrey’s house and closed the door. “It’s glass.”

“A glass fish,” Cameron corrected. “Makes it different.”

“Glass—” She shook her head, counted to five, then tried again. “Gram’s glass animals were one of her favorite things. You know how your train is your favorite?”

Cameron nodded.

“What if I let Jake crawl around and touch your train and he broke it? By accident. Would that be okay?”

“No. He’s a baby. Trains are for big kids.” Cameron jabbed a thumb into his chest. “I big kid.”

“Exactly. Trains are for big kids. He gets stuffed animals, you get the train, and I get—” Elizabeth gestured. “Glass animals.”

“Oh.” Cameron studied the now closed cabinet with all the animals tucked away safely. “Glass animals for really big kids.”

“Yes. Really big kids.”

“Okay.” Cameron beamed at her, his tiny baby teeth flashing. Then he looked past her. “Hi, Jase.”

Elizabeth turned to find Jason still holding Jake. He’d closed the door and stepped down the two steps into the living room. “Hey. Sorry about that.”

“No problem. Hey, Cam.”

“Why don’t you go play with your trains?” she told Cameron. “Aunt Em and I finished the playroom last night.”

Cameron nodded and started the climb to the stairs.

“I wasn’t expecting you, was I?” Elizabeth asked. She started to reach for Jake, then stopped herself. Jason should get to hold his son as much as he wanted. She folded her arms behind her back. “I’ve been distracted — I’m supposed to go back to the hospital full-time next week—I’ve only been part-time for the last month—and we’re still unpacking—” She sighed. “Not that you need an appointment or anything—”

“No, I came over to talk to you. And you’re fine.” Jason hesitated. “I ran into Lucky earlier today.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and went over to another box with her grandmother’s glass collection. She knelt down and started to unwrap them. Jason set Jake down on the baby blanket, arranging him on his back so Jake could wiggle and reach for the toys tied to the plastic arch above him.

“That must have been fun.”

“Yeah, well, I usually ignore him,” Jason admitted. She looked up at him. “I didn’t this time. He’s going after Cameron and Jake to punish you. I mean you told me that, but—”

“Yeah, he’s telling his lawyer that he loves them, but he’s not paying an ounce of child support and he hasn’t even asked to see Cam since we moved out, much less Jake. Diane says it’s going to screw him in court, but I’ll guess we’ll see.” Elizabeth sat back on her heels. “I’m sorry, Jason.”

“It’s fine—”

“It’s really not. None of this would be happening if I hadn’t been stupid and weak last fall. If I had just told you the truth from the beginning or—”

“We can’t go back.” Jason knelt down next to her, stopping her as she reached for another animal to unwrap. She met his eyes. “Regrets don’t solve anything, okay? I also didn’t have to listen to Carly. I could have told you no in February. You’re not the only one who made mistakes.”

“No, but—” She closed her eyes. “Diane keeps telling me that it’ll be okay. Lucky’s getting a hearing only because he’s Jake’s legal parent. The court will order a paternity test—that’ll take care of it.”

“I talked to her,” Jason said. “But she wouldn’t give me anything. I get it—she’s not my lawyer, but—”

“Oh. I should have—” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “If you tell me what you want to ask, I can find out. But she’s already told me Lucky can’t win. If you weren’t in the picture, he might get visitation with Jake. But you are. And, like I said, Lucky hasn’t even tried to see the boys. He’s going to argue I wasn’t faithful—” Her cheeks flushed. “And, no, technically in August, I wasn’t. But I’ve got Maxie. And this year—” She bit her lip and their eyes met again. “The court doesn’t really care about emotional affairs.”

Emotional affairs. Like admitting that they loved one another and had for a long time. Jason exhaled slowly. “They won’t?”

“No. Because I can honestly say that nothing physical happened, and then Lucky will have to explain about Sam. Like I said — I’m going to win,” Elizabeth said. “It’s just going to suck for a while. But you being around Jake—that’s going to help. So you can come whenever you want. You don’t even have to ask—”

“Thank you.” Jason released her hand and they both looked over at Jake as he kicked his feet and giggled, his tiny hand latching onto one of the toys, releasing it to watch it bounce back, then repeating it. “Thank you,” he said again.

It was late that night when Leyla Mir completed her shift and headed to the parking garage. Her feet were aching, and all she could think about was running a hot bubble bath and soaking with a book —

She only had time to hear the scratch of something against the concrete floor before something wrapped around her throat and her airway was choked off. She dug her fingers into the thin strap at her neck, but she couldn’t get beneath it—

Then she was being dragged backwards—and then—

There was nothing at all.

July 4, 2022

This entry is part 3 of 22 in the Flash Fiction: Invisible Strings

Written in 40 minutes.

 

 

Elizabeth left the room to the bedroom cracked in case Cameron woke, but she was relieved that he’d slipped into a much deeper sleep. She had quite enough problems without adding a cranky child into the mix.

She paced the minuscule sitting room, the skirts of her calico dress brushing against the chaise lounge. What would she do if Jason Morgan returned and told her he’d changed his mind? How would she manage? This wasn’t like New York where she could find a factory job—

She stared down at her hands, the tips of her fingers heavily calloused from three long years working in the textile looms. At the missing tip of her left index finger. She’d been fortunate not to lose the entire hand—flashes of that terrible day hovered in her dreams, the searing pain, the deep fear of what would happen to her little boy—

Elizabeth couldn’t return to factory work. It was too dangerous and left Cameron unprotected. She turned towards the ajar door, biting her lip. Had it been one thing to read about her son in the letters, another to be confronted with the reality? She could have lied. Could have called herself a widow. Who would ask questions?

That’s what she’d do in the next place, Elizabeth vowed, beginning to pace again. And if she was ever fool enough to pursue marriage again, she’d maintain the lie. No one thought badly of a widow—and wasn’t that exactly what she was? Why did it have to matter that Alexander had died before their vows? She’d planned to marry him—

A choking sob rose in her throat, and Elizabeth swallowed it, closing her eyes. It would do no good to become hysterical. She didn’t even know for sure that anything was wrong. Perhaps Jason was just…uncertain. And hadn’t he written to her of his reserved nature? He was a quiet man.

Still—

When the knock came, less than thirty minutes after their arrival, Elizabeth hurried to unlatch the door. Jason stood there, his hat in his hands, and a look in his eyes — The pit in her stomach only grew.

“There are a few things we need to discuss,” Jason said, his voice pitched low. “Can we—”

Her lip trembled, and she nearly lost her composure—but then something strange happen. The hysteria dried up, and all she could find was rage.

“Of course,” Elizabeth said flatly. She stepped back and allowed his entrance, closing the door behind him. “You’ve come to tell me you’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?” She turned to face him, and he opened his mouth. “Was it my son? Did you take one look at my little boy and decide you’d promised too hastily to overlook my past?”

Jason’s sandy brown brows drew together. “No—”

“Because I’ve decided I have no need of someone who has to forgive me for what I’ve done,” Elizabeth retorted. She lifted her chin. “I don’t understand a world that punishes women and children for the lack of a silly piece of paper. You’re no better than my family, than everyone I left in New York.” Then the tears threatened again, because that wasn’t entirely fair.

She sank onto the chaise lounge, some of the rage fading. “No, that’s not true,” she murmured. “They were worse. They knew Alex. They knew of our plans.” Her hands fisted. “We would have been married the day he died, and no one would have blinked when Cameron came along seven months later. But a horse threw him, and now I must be punished for the rest of my life.” She took a deep, but shaky breath. “Their rejection is worse, but that doesn’t make you any less cruel for knowing the truth, promising me it would not matter, and then changing your mind after I’ve given up everything—” Elizabeth lunged to her feet. “Well, you don’t have to change your mind and reject me because I’m changing mine, and I’m doing it first—”

“There’s been a mistake,” Jason cut in, his tone gentle. He set his hat on a nearby table, then raked his fingers through his hair. “I never wrote any of those letters, Miss Webber. I didn’t advertise for a wife.”

Elizabeth stared at him, the mounting horror settling in. She slowly sat back down, trying to understand the words he’d spoken but they weren’t making any sense. “I—I didn’t just show up here. There were letters—I can get them—and there was an advertisement—I kept it—”

He stopped her as she pushed past him, intent on fetching their correspondence. “I don’t doubt any of that. I said I didn’t do it, but my cousin did.”

“Your cousin—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, swaying slightly. His hands moved to her shoulders, keeping her up right. “How—why?”

“Sit down. I’ll attempt to explain—but let me make it quite clear, Miss Webber—” He waited until she’d sat down again, taking a seat of his own in one of the wooden chairs at the tiny square wooden table. “I don’t care about your son’s birth or whether you were married to his father. You’re correct. There’s nothing to forgive you for, and I apologize if my cousin used those words when he wrote.”

“He—” She took a deep breath. “I think you need to tell me what’s going on.”

The plan had been to calmly explain the terrible misunderstanding, apologize for the idiocy of his cousin, and arrange for her transportation where she wished to go. And then Elizabeth Webber had opened the door, with that dreadful look in her eyes. She’d known why he was there—but had supplied her own reasoning—

And it had changed something in him, listening to her blast him for judging her past, then recounting her past with that haunted look in her eyes. Jason’s family had had its issues, and there were reasons he’d left the family home in  her in town and bought his own land, but he’d never felt rejected—

“A year ago, my grandmother made it clear that she wanted my cousin and I to marry and settle down,” Jason told her. “And I agreed. We both did. But Dillon hoped that if I were to marry first, she’d give him a bit of space. So he…”

“He arranged for a mail order wife,” she finished. “Why—”

“Because we love our  grandmother and we understand why she’s asking.” Jason cleared his throat. “Cholera swept through the area about two years ago. And it decimated the town. My family—” Even now, he could hardly speak of it. “My grandfather. My parents. My brother. His wife. My aunt—Dillon’s mother.” He forced himself to finish. “My sister and my nephew were the last.”

“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth breathed. “How devastating.”

“We nearly lost my grandmother. I—” Jason shook his head. “Dillon and I are all she has left, and she wants to see us settled before she goes. I also think—” He sighed. “She’s lonely. The house was filled with her family before, and it’s just her and Dillon now. I moved back to my place around the time she started asking.”

“Your cousin wrote all the letters posing as you,” Elizabeth said. “Did he really think this would work?”

Dillon, Jason thought, was smarter than he looked. He’d thought she was lovely the moment he’d laid eyes on her at the train station, but Port Charles had its share of physically attractive women. That didn’t mean he had to marry any of them.

Then she’d let her fury fly, her eyes sparkling with righteous rage at even the hint of insult to her child. Now, she sat in front of him, those same wide blue eyes damp with tears and sorrow for his family’s losses.

“I think,” Jason said carefully, “that he thought you were always planning to marry someone you didn’t know very well, so you wouldn’t notice that I didn’t say much about the letters. And that he thought my promise to my grandmother would convince me.” He paused. “I am very sorry about what he’s done. He’s put you through so much trouble—

“And I’m sorry,” Elizabeth cut in, her face flushed. “I said such terrible things to you—”

“You believed I had ill feelings towards your son. I expect nothing less. The thing is, Miss Webber—” Jason hesitated. “I think, despite Dillon’s actions, that the best way forward is to marry.”

“What?” Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

He didn’t understand it either—he’d come here, quite firm in his decision, but — “You had planned to marry someone you didn’t know,” he reminded her, “and I told my grandmother I’d marry this year. I think—” He nodded. “I think Dillon might have done us both a favor. I’d like to make the arrangements as soon as possible—”

“That’s very kind of you—” Elizabeth held up her hand and he stopped. “But I must refuse.”

July 1, 2022

This entry is part 38 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 20 minutes.

Thursday, February 3, 2000

Quartermaine Estate: Driveway

Jason slowed the bike as they approached the main entrance of the mansion, but even before he’d switched off the ignition, he could predict the disaster laying ahead.  One of Sonny’s cars was parked haphazardly near the garage, the driver’s door hanging open. The front door to the mansion was wide open —

And he could hear the shouting from where they stood.

None of this had anything to do with him, Jason realized as he stood next to the bike. Sonny might be his friend, but it wasn’t really Jason’s job to run after him. And Carly and this baby were nothing to him.

But his grandmother was inside, and she didn’t deserve any of this.

“Let’s go.” He took Elizabeth’s hand and headed in.

Sonny hadn’t made it further than the foyer—AJ and Ned were blocking his progress, and Alan was standing behind them, fuming.

“I want to see her now!” Sonny bit out. “Either get out of my way or—”

“I’ll be damned if I let you anywhere in this house,” Alan cut in. Sonny lurched forward again, and AJ shoved him back, the younger man’s eyes slightly wild, his hair disheveled. “I’ll have you arrested—”

“Sonny—” Jason reached for his partner but Sonny shoved him back.

“Not without talking to that—”

Ned grimaced as Sonny came forward, and this time Sonny threw a punch, landing a solid blow to AJ’s jaw as Ned ducked out of the way.

“Damn it—” AJ swore, then leapt at Sonny. The two of them began a fist fight, rolling around on the ground, trading punches, jabs, and kicks as Ned struggled to separate them.

“That’s it!” Alan strode to the phone and snatched it off the receiver. “I’m calling the police—”

“I’ll go find Carly,” Elizabeth told Jason reluctantly as she slipped around the fracas and Jason moved in to break up the fight.

Elizabeth checked in the front parlor, then in the family room where she found a worried Lila with an irritated Reginald, her ever present manservant.

“Oh, darling—” Lila held out her hands, and Elizabeth squeezed them. “If you’re here, I hope that means Jason is. He’ll know how to sort everything out. He always does.”

“I know,” Elizabeth said with a rueful sigh. “He’s dealing with AJ and Sonny. I thought I’d try to find Carly before Sonny can—” Not that she cared much, but like Jason, she wanted to contain the situation somehow.

“Don’t bother,” Reginald said tightly. “She’s gone.”

“Gone?” Elizabeth echoed. “How—she’s not upstairs either?”

“As soon as Mr. Corinthos barged in, I came to find her,” Lila said, her voice shaking. “She was in the gardens, heading for the garage.”

“And her car is gone.”

That wasn’t good. Elizabeth went back to the foyer, relieved to find that Jason and Ned had separated AJ and Sonny, though both men were still tossing insults. She met Jason’s eyes and lightly shook her head, hoping he’d understand.

“I don’t care what crime you think was committed against you,” Alan told Sonny, his eyes burning. “You have no right to come into this house an attack my family. If you were dumb enough to sleep with another man’s wife, then you deserve every piece of misery coming your way—”

“She had no right to lie—”

“She had every right,” Alan sneered. “Isn’t that how Jason justified stealing Michael for over a year? The right of a mother? I may not want Carly anywhere near my family, but don’t pretend you didn’t lie for Jason, either.”

Jason flinched, then closed his eyes, his grip loosening sightly at this reminder that it had all started with him.

Elizabeth scowled at Jason’s father, but kept her mouth shut as she crossed the room to stand by Jason. She’d been in Port Charles long enough to know Alan had no business casting stones at anyone else. After all, Jason was the result of an extramarital affair, and she knew AJ’s paternity had been in doubt as an infant.

Officers from the PCPD arrived then, and hauled Sonny out in cuffs. Elizabeth waited until he was clear before leaning up to whisper in Jason’s ear. “Carly took off as soon as she heard Sonny in the hall. Lila saw her go, and Reginald confirmed her car is gone. She’s gone.”

Jason winced. Now Carly had time to plan the next step, and he really didn’t want to think about what she might have planned. She had to know he’d told Sonny. He had to find her  before she had time to plot her revenge.

June 29, 2022

This entry is part 2 of 5 in the ZFlash - Watch

Written in 34 minutes. 

 

 

Elizabeth stepped off the elevator, patient charts in her arms, and stopped short. Robin Scorpio stood at the nurse’s station, an arm around her younger cousin, Georgie Jones, whose cheeks were streaks with tears and her eyes red and puffy. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, giving Georgie’s shoulders another squeeze. “Georgie’s just having a tough day.”

“Chelsea’s parents came to get—” Georgie’s voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Epiphany won’t care about me missing a few days?”

“Of course not, sweetie.” Robin kissed her forehead. “Let me take care of it. I’ll talk to her, and you head home and pack for New York, okay?”

“Okay.” Georgie hugged her again, then disappeared onto the elevator.

Robin sighed, and joined Elizabeth at the counter. “Georgie’s roommate at PCU was the girl who was killed a few days ago,” she told Elizabeth. She reached for a chart, opened it, then just stared down at blindly. “They roomed together last year, and Chelsea had just come up for the new fall semester.”

“Oh, man—”

“Yeah, Chelsea was a sweet kid. And really good for Georgie. She needed someone to get her mind off everything that happened—with—” Robin flashed a weak smile. “With Maxie, the break up with Dillon, the hotel—anyway. Georgie’s going to head down to the city for the funeral.”

“The paper says the cops don’t have any leads.” Elizabeth shuddered. “That it might have been random.” It wasn’t safe to be alone after dark, she thought, her mind straying a bit as she remembered another night, long ago. Another girl.

“I hope not. I mean, it’s a tragedy either way,” Robin added, clicking the top on her pen. “But if it was random, what’s stopping it from happening again?”

“There’s a scary thought.”

“Yeah, well—I need to track Epiphany down and get Georgie off the volunteer schedule.” Robin forced a smile on her face. “We need a break from all this doom and gloom. Ever since the trial—”

“Even before that,” Elizabeth murmured.

“It’s been a long year, that’s for sure. You get a baby sister, and I’ll get Kelly and Lainey. We’ll do a Girls Night—”

“Not Lainey,” Elizabeth cut in sharply and Robin flinched. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make things awkward, but I’m just not ready to move on—”

“I was hoping with some time and space—”

“I’d forget?” Elizabeth shook her head. “No. All I’ll ever remember is precious time being wasted while Lainey and Lucky tried to convince me and the PCPD that I’d done something to hurt Jake.”

“Elizabeth—”

“There was no evidence of post-partum depression,” Elizabeth retorted. “Nothing except me being tired and distracted. And she never apologized. She just said she was doing her job—”

Robin exhaled slowly. “I know it felt like you were being attacked—”

“I was being attacked, and Lainey was supposed to be there as my friend. No one asked for her professional opinion—” Elizabeth closed her mouth. “I don’t want to put you in the middle, Robin. I really don’t. But I’m not ready to forgive or forget.”

“Fair enough. I don’t know if I would be in your position either,” Robin admitted. “And I certainly don’t want to make things harder for you. I know the last few weeks have been hard enough.”

“Exactly. I have to get back to work.”

Jason jogged down the steps at Elm Street Pier, then stopped abruptly when he realized that Lucky Spencer was coming from the opposite direction, turning the corner from Bannister’s Wharf. He thought of just ignoring the other man, turning around to avoid him but—

It was too late.

“Well, well, well.” Lucky sneered, hatred twisted his features. “I was wondering when I’d run into you—”

“Look, Lucky, I don’t want to get into anything—” Jason loathed this sorry excuse for a man for every piece of misery he’d brought into Elizabeth’s life, but the last thing he wanted to do was make anything worse for her and the custody hearing.

“If you think you’re going to waltz into my family and take over—” Lucky jabbed Jason’s chest with his index finger. “You better think again. I’m not letting her get away with what she’s done—”

Jason just remained silent, remembering Elizabeth’s anguished expression the other day. There was some truth to her words — she had lied to Lucky about Jake, and Jason had let the lie continue.

“She humiliated me in front of the whole damn town and now she thinks she’s going to take my boys away from me? Not a chance in hell, Morgan. She took everything from me, and I’m not going to rest until I’ve made her bleed—”

Jason clenched his jaw, but did nothing more than wrap his fingers around Lucky’s wrist and shove him back lightly. “Just remember,” Jason said quietly, “that you’re not innocent either, Lucky. I’m sure your attorney has informed you it’ll be an uphill battle to even get visitation with Cameron, much less Jake. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“The minute that bitch lied to me about my son—”

“Was that before or after you nearly killed her on the docks by shooting at me?” Jason asked, his tone more pleasant than he felt. What he wouldn’t give to make this piece of shit disappear. “Or you drained the bank accounts to go into rehab for your drug problem? Or had an affair with a teenager who stole drugs for you—”

Lucky’s eyes burned. “Shut up—”

“Or when you accused her of hurting Jake and wasted time while some crazy woman got further away with him?” Jason cut in, and Lucky flinched. “And because you couldn’t stand being wrong, couldn’t stand that I’d brought him home, you made sure to violate my parole. I don’t know, Lucky. Do we really want to stand here and pretend that anything Elizabeth has done comes close to your crimes?”

“At least I’m not a killer,” Lucky growled, and Jason smirked.

“We both know that’s not true. You think you’re better than me because you have a badge?” Jason stepped back. “As far as the system is concerned, I’m a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen, and you’re harassing me.” He fisted his hands at his side. “Now I’m done with this conversation.”

“You stay away from my boys—”

Jason was done with the conversation. He’d said what he wanted to, and maybe more than he should have. He turned towards Pier 52 and the warehouse, leaving Lucky seething.

Mac Scorpio dragged his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. “Nothing came back from the lab?”

“No DNA under the nails, no footprints on the scene.” Detective David Harper sat across from the commissioner and shoved the autopsy report across the table. “The most we have is that we think the suspect is taller than the victim.”

“Great, round up all the guys taller than five foot six, and we’ll have him by dinner.” Mac sighed, looked at the photo on his desk of Georgie on her graduation day the year before. She was a wreck over all of this, and he just wanted to give her—and Chelsea Ray’s family some closure.

“We’re still doing rounds at the campus, but no one is sticking out yet. She was well-liked, friendly, but hadn’t been dating. There was a guy—they were still in the flirting stage,” Harper continued, “but his alibi checks out. He was back at the party. I’m sorry, Mac. I don’t think it was personal. Or at least someone she knew.”

“Christ. We don’t need a random killer out there picking on coeds,” Mac muttered. He’d lock Georgie in her damn room if that was the case.

“I hear you. We’ll keep at it, but right now? We’re dead in the water.”

June 27, 2022

This entry is part 2 of 22 in the Flash Fiction: Invisible Strings

Written in 29 minutes.

Almost as soon as she’d closed her mouth, Elizabeth knew that something was terribly wrong. When the pair of men had come into the station, she’d spied the gold star pinned to the taller of the men’s shirt. She’d been pleasantly surprised that such a good looking man would need to advertise for a wife, but she’d heard all about the imbalance of men and women out in the West.

Still, as he’d drawn closer, Elizabeth’s stomach had begun to quiver. He was more than just generally good-looking with sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He had broad shoulders, and a kind smile—

The younger man at his side bore some resemblance — similar hair color and eyes, but he was a bit more spindly and his eyes kept darting all over the place. But the sheriff—Jason Morgan—hadn’t made eye contact with her—his eyes had passed over her at first.

Something was wrong.

“I’m glad you made it safely,” the younger man said—maybe the cousin Jason had written about in his letters? “I know Jason was worried about you traveling with your son.”

“Oh—” Elizabeth twisted to look at Cameron still dozing fitfully on the bench, shoving her doubts down. Maybe Jason was just nervous. That was possible. They’d only written a handful of times—perhaps he was even shy around women. That might explain why he’d searched all the way back East for a wife. “He did well enough, but the last few legs, we had to travel overnight and he didn’t sleep much.”

“I was born out here,” the cousin said cheerfully, though he was speaking a bit fast. He elbowed Jason. “But Jason traveled here when he was just a kid, not much older. Right?”

“What?” Jason blinked, then cleared his throat. “Uh, yes.” He rocked back on his heels. “From San Francisco. When I was nine.”

“Not nearly as far as you came,” the cousin said—what was his name? Something with a D—David? Elizabeth couldn’t quite bring it to the forefront of her memory. Everything had scattered when the men had arrived, and she was still trying to make sense of everything. “New York or New Jersey?”

“New York.” Elizabeth fiddled with cuff of her dress. “Port Hamilton. On Lake Ontario.”

“Well, you’ve moved from one lake to another,” David—no, Dillon! That was it—said. Elizabeth remembered that it was spelled differently. “And Jason’s got the Colorado running past his ranch outside of town. You’ll love it.”

She looked at the man in question who hadn’t said more than a handful of words. What was she supposed to do? Push him into conversation? What if he was just a quiet man?

“I’m looking forward to it,” Elizabeth said. She lifted her chin. “I was hoping that I could get Cameron settled somewhere. You said that I’d be staying in the hotel for a few days while  we made arrangements?” she asked Jason.

“Uh, yeah. I—” Jason looked at his cousin. “Did you take care of it?” he asked Dillon, and Elizabeth was a bit surprised by the tense tone. Jason had nearly bit the words out. Was Dillon normally unreliable?

“Of course. Just as you told me. A little suite with a bedroom and a sitting room.”

“All right then.” Elizabeth returned to the bench to pick up her bag, looping the straps over her arm, then carefully hoisting Cameron into her arms. She swayed for a minute—her little boy wasn’t as little as he’d once been and the added weight—

“I’ll—I’ll take that.” Jason reached for her bag. “I’d—” He carefully removed it from her arm without disturbing Cameron who had only opened his eyes bleerily, then snuggled closer to her. “The hotel is just across the way.”

“Well, then let’s get to it, I suppose.” She pasted a smile on her face and followed the men outside, wondering if she’d made a terrible decision after all.

Jason made sure the woman—whose name she still didn’t know—and her son were comfortable in the rooms that were, of course, registered in his name. The woman behind the check in desk had raised her brows, but Jason had just glared. If Britta Westbourne opened her mouth before he had this settled—

As soon as he’d cleared the hotel entrance, he’d grabbed his cousin by the  back of the neck and dragged him around the corner and shoved him against the brick wall. “What the hell is going on?”

“Okay, I can explain—” Dillon held up his hands. “I meant to tell you. I started to a thousand times, but it wasn’t something that really rolled off the tongue, you know? And then before I knew it, she was on her way—”

“On her way,” Jason said flatly. “But you had time to find out her travel arrangements and pay for her hotel by charging it to my account. Dillon—”

“Look, just hear me out, okay? Listen.” Dillon took a deep breath. “It’s not like I sent for the first women who replied. A lot of women replied. I mean, a lot,” he repeated. “So I made sure I picked someone you’d like—”

Jason gritted his teeth. “What—”

“She’s a hard worker, and she’s devoted to her kid. I mean, she was super clear about the son right away.” Dillon’s face was flushed. “And talked about how she wanted someone who’d love him and be a father. You like kids. And she likes to talk. You hate to talk—she’ll fill all the silence—”

“You—” Jason had to step back or he’d do something he’d regret. “You wrote her as me. She has no idea that I don’t know.”

“Well, no. And she doesn’t need to.” Dillon shrugged. “I’ll give you her letters, and you’ll know everything she told you. You said you’d get married if the right woman came around. She’s the right woman—”

“Says you,” Jason retorted. “Then you marry her—”

“Oh, no. We both like to talk. We’d irritate each other in five minutes.” Dillon’s eyes widened. “You promised—”

“You made me promise that knowing she was already here,” Jason interrupted. “That’s not fair—”

“Give me one good reason she’s not perfect for you!”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it. The trouble was—the idiot had a point. The woman was beautiful—someone he’d take a second, even third look at—damn it—

“I don’t even know her name, for one—”

“Oh, that’s easy. She’s Elizabeth Webber from Port Hamilton, New York. Her son is Cameron, and she’s twenty-four. He’s four, I think. Nearly five, maybe I don’t remember. Just read her letters, you’ll see—”

“She wrote them to you,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “And she wrote them because of some advertisement you created. It’s not right. And you’d have me lie to her some more? Lie to her for the rest of our lives?”

“I—” Dillon frowned. “Well, why should it matter? She came here to marry a stranger—”

“The fact that you don’t understand the difference tells me how stupid you are. Go back to the jail. I’ll stay and clean up your damn mess—”

“Jason—” His cousin’s face fell. “You’re not even going to give her a chance?”

“It’s not fair to either of us.” Jason shoved Dillon towards the street. “Now get out of my sight.”

June 24, 2022

This entry is part 37 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 20 minutes. Had to stop because brain couldn’t handle today.

Thursday, February 3, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny looked from Jason to Elizabeth, then back again as he absorbed what Jason had just told him.

“I don’t know if you’re the only other person it could be,” Jason continued, “but AJ made it clear to me yesterday that it isn’t his baby.”

Sonny turned away, scrubbing his hands down his face. “How long?” he asked quietly. “How long have you known she was pregnant?”

“Sonny—” Elizabeth began but Jason shook his head, released her hand, and stepped forward.

“Since the day of wedding reception. I didn’t say anything at first because Carly said there was a chance—”

“And you believed her?” Sonny bit out, whirling back. “She does nothing but lie—”

“I know. I told her I wanted to a paternity test—”

“Like they can’t be faked—” Sonny’s gaze burned into his. “Was this your idea of revenge? I put your family at risk, you keep mine from me?”

“No, that’s not—”

“Sonny—” Elizabeth tried again, but he wasn’t in any mood to be comforted or talked down.

“You had no right to—” Sonny shook his head. “To hell with this,” he bit out. He stalked past them, slamming the door behind him.

“He was never going to take this well,” Elizabeth murmured, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder.

“He would have if I had told him when I found out,” Jason replied, irritated with himself. And he’d thought of keeping his mouth shut even longer? Was Sonny right? Had there been some thought in the back of his mind that Sonny deserved to be in the dark?

“Should we go after him?” Elizabeth broke into his thoughts, and he frowned, looking down at her. “He’s going to the mansion to confront Carly, but she’s not alone. AJ might be there. Lila definitely is, and maybe Michael—”

“Sonny might be angry, but—” Jason paused. He wasn’t worried about Lila or Michael, he realized. He trusted Sonny enough to moderate himself around his grandmother and a toddler.

But if AJ was there—or Edward or Alan—if any of the Quartermaine men were—Sonny would be arrested before he got two steps into the mansion and that would be a headache none of them could afford.

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

Quartermaine Estate: Terrace

Carly kicked at small pile of snow that had collected beneath one of the railings. She was running out of time to figure out what to do. She’d managed to hold Jason off for a while, but eventually he’d demand that paternity test—

She huffed, her breath exploding in a cloud of white as it dissipated into the freezing air. She should have gotten out of town when she’d had the chance. Jason had been ready to make her and Michael disappear, but no, Carly had to reach a bit higher. Had to go for the gold.

She’d never settled in her life, and until these last few weeks, she’d never had to. She’d set out to destroy her mother’s marriage, and she’d done it. She’d schemed to make sure no one took Michael for her, and until now, she’d managed that. She’d made sure she was a wedge between Jason and Robin—

It should been easy to get the little bitch away from Jason. Robin had almost been pathetically easy to get rid of once Michael was in the picture. Carly had nearly tipped Jason into having an actual affair with her, and if not for that Webber bitch—

She squeezed her eyes shut. If Jason had just left with her, had taken Michael and run, they’d be somewhere and a family. Jason would believe this child was his. It should be his. It wasn’t fair—

There was a thud and some distant voices somewhere in the house. Carly turned away from the gardens, towards the terrace doors, frowning. Who was even here to argue with? AJ had taken the day off to spend with Michael, but nearly everyone else was gone—

Carly pulled the doors open and went towards the entrance connecting the family room to the foyer—stopping when the voices became more clear.

When she recognized them.

“Where the hell is that whore?” Sonny demanded. Carly couldn’t hear AJ’s response, but she didn’t need to.

It was over. Sonny knew. And he was going to tell AJ—if he hadn’t already.

Damn it.

Carly closed the door again and headed back to the terrace. She’d leave through the gardens, get into the garage, take one of the cars—

It was time for Plan C.

June 22, 2022

This entry is part 1 of 5 in the ZFlash - Watch

September 2007

Chelsea Ray turned off the main path down one that twisted and curled around the PCU campus, leading towards her dorm. She’d only just moved into Lewis Hall the week before, and was still negotiating with her new roommate what went where, and what, if any, shared space they’d enjoy. Georgie Jones seemed pretty nice, so maybe it would be great freshman year after all.

Chelsea heard a branch break behind her, so she stopped to look. Maybe someone had left the party and was on their way back. Maybe it was Gavin, the dreamy sophomore she’d met when they’d moved in. She was almost sure he’d sent the small bouquet of lilies and daisies she’d found outside her dorm—

But there was no one behind her, so she shrugged and turned back towards the dorm. She was only ten feet away from the door when a hand wrapped around her upper arm and yanked her off the path.

She never even had the chance to scream.

The house on Lexington Street was practically overflowing with boxes. Emily Bowen-Quartermaine could scarcely find the newspaper between stacks on the porch, and  then almost tripped over another one in the landing when she came in.

“Sorry—” Elizabeth Spencer lifted her four-month-old son into her arms and navigated around another stack. “I meant to grab that one—”

“That’s okay,” Emily said with a shrug. “You nearly died tripping over mine upstairs last night.” She glanced around the room with a sigh. “Where did we get so much stuff?”

“I’m not sure,” Elizabeth admitted. She swayed a bit, lulling the dozing infant into deeper sleep. “I think, between cleaning out my grandmother’s house, your parents deciding you couldn’t move out without taking everything you everything owned, and the boys—”

“We’re going to unpacking when our bones are dust in the ground.” Emily shoved another stack aside and unfolded the paper. “Well, the trial is finally off the front pages,” she said, holding it up so Elizabeth could see.

Elizabeth squinted, then her eyes widened. “Oh my God—”

“Yeah, I think I should have been more specific when I asked the universe to give you and my brother a break—” Emily scanned the headline again. MURDER SHOCKS PCU CAMPUS; NO LEADS. “The poor girl, and her family—can you imagine? She manages to survive her entire life in New York City, comes to PCU—”

Elizabeth clutched her son more tightly against her, pressing her cheek to his soft blond hair, and Emily wanted to kick herself. Only a few terrible months ago, baby Jake had been kidnapped, and Elizabeth had been devastated. “Sorry—”

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, then went to set Jake into the bassinet in the corner. She went to answer the ringing phone and Emily tossed aside the paper and picked up the box she’d tripped on. Best to start with the boxes that might end up killing them. As she unwrapped some knick knacks Elizabeth had inherited from her grandmother when Audrey Hardy had passed away that summer, she half listened to Elizabeth on the phone.

“Yeah, I mean, I expected it, Diane. No—” Elizabeth sighed. “No, I don’t want to go that route yet. I’m hoping when things settle—okay. Okay. Yeah, I’ll find out and let you know. Thanks.” She set the cordless back in the base and joined Emily at the table.

“Everything okay?” Emily asked.

“Yeah. I guess.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “We have a mediation meeting at the end of the week—to figure out where we are on the divorce and custody. I filed after he told me about Sam—” She looked at Emily. “I mean, I was going to after the trial anyway, but—”

“I hope Ric Lansing gets stabbed by a rusty nail,” Emily muttered. “He had no right to ask those questions—”

“Bias,” Elizabeth reminded her with a half shrug. “He needed to impeach my testimony and make it look like I’d lie for Jason. Diane warned me.”

“Still—”

“It really is fine. It’s better this way,” Elizabeth added. “Lucky and I were just hurting each other. We never should have remarried—this entire last year—ever since I found him with Maxie—” She removed a photo frame of her grandparents from its packing paper, then traced her fingers over her beloved grandmother. “It’s like I’ve been drifting in a fog, not thinking about the big picture. I should have told the truth from the start.”

“You had your reasons.”

“That doesn’t make them right. Or even good ones.” Elizabeth walked the photo over to the mantel to set Steve and Audrey Hardy next to a photo of the boys, Cameron’s beaming face as he held his little brother. “He’s asking for joint custody.”

“What? Why?” Emily folded his arms. “He’s barely been in Cameron’s life since the first separation. And Jake isn’t his. He knows that.”

“Knowing and feeling are different things. Cameron—that’s on him,” Elizabeth added. “But Jake—he’s spent a year being his father, and now I’ve told him it’s not true. I can’t blame him for being angry—”

“But Jason—”

“I hurt Jason over all of this, too,” Elizabeth admitted. “And I don’t know how to stop hurting either of them. I just know Jason doesn’t deserve to be cut out of Jake’s life, and it was never my place to ask for it.”

“Then Lucky needs to back off. He’s the one that torpedoed everything. The drugs, the affairs, the abuse-”

“Em—”

“Don’t argue. He was emotionally abusive, and we both know he pushed you last year. He’s my friend, Elizabeth, but you’re my family.” Emily put her hand on Elizabeth’ shoulder. “And whatever happens next, I’m on your side.”

Elizabeth had finally made a serious dent in the boxes that had filled the living room, and was relieved at the knock on the front door giving her reason to stop unpacking. She tossed some of the empty boxes out of the way and peered out the window.

Then opened the door. “Jason.”

Jason Morgan, recently acquitted on all charges, offered a half-sheepish smile, the tips of his fingers tucked into the pockets of his jeans. “Hey. I hope it’s okay I just…”

Elizabeth tucked a piece of hair behind her ears and stepped back. “Yeah, yeah. Um, come in. Don’t mind the mess. Em and I are still unpacking.” She closed the door, took a deep breath, then turned to face him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he repeated. They stood there for a long moment, just staring at one another. She couldn’t help but remember one of the last times they’d been alone together — when they’d stood in the park and he’d told her he was in love with her. That he should have said it a long time ago.

Instead of just telling him the same, she’d had to tell him about the men in the park, the ones that had threatened her and the boys with guns.

Why couldn’t they ever be on the same page at the same time?

Their timing, as he’d said a year ago, sucked.

“You’re finally off the front page,” Elizabeth said, gesturing at the paper Emily had left on the table. “You and Sonny must  be relieved.”

“Yeah—” Jason scratched his temple. “I’m glad you’re not there either. That wasn’t—that was a long couple of weeks.”

“Yeah.” She folded her arms. “Um, Jake just went down for his afternoon nap if you wanted to go up and see him—”

“I do,” Jason said. “But we haven’t really—I mean, we haven’t talked about what’s going to happen. If anything is going to change.”

“I want them to,” Elizabeth said. “Jake—I mean, the world knows the truth. They should have a long time ago—”

“We don’t have to talk about any of that—”

“We do,” Elizabeth insisted. “Because you deserve an apology for what’s happened. And what’s going to keep happening. Diane just told me Lucky wants joint custody of both boys. He’s not backing down on Jake, even with the paternity results.”

Jason’s mouth twisted. “Can he do that?” Then he paused, closed his eyes. “Is that what you want? For him to—”

“No—” Elizabeth cut in sharply and he opened his eyes, looked at her again. “No. I just—I did this. To both of you. I don’t want to hurt him more than I have already—he had affairs, I know. And he was—it wasn’t good between us. Even last year. But I can solve that problem. I did—I left. But he honestly thought Jake was his son, and he’s lost that.”

“Yeah.” Jason exhaled slowly, looked away. “I know what it’s like. And I can tell you, even knowing the truth doesn’t help.”

“I told Diane that I’m not changing my mind. Lucky isn’t his father. You are. And you don’t deserve watching Jake grow up thinking differently. I never should have asked you.”

“Elizabeth-”

“I can’t fix this for both of you. It’s impossible. Either I hurt you or I hurt him. And I think it’s time I put you first.” She took a deep breath. “So that’s what’s going on. I just don’t think he’s going to back down. It’s going to be in court, and you might have to testify.”

“Okay.” Jason nodded. “Whatever you need from me. I just—I want—” He stopped, and their eyes met, held for a long moment. “I want us both to be okay. And the boys to be happy.”

“That’s what I want, too,” Elizabeth said. She tipped her head towards the stairs. “Let me show you were Jake is. You should spend some time with him.”

June 20, 2022

This entry is part 1 of 22 in the Flash Fiction: Invisible Strings

Written in 41 minutes.

Colorado Territory, 1872

They had changed trains in Denver, setting course for the small town of Port Charles at the base of the Rocky Mountains, and the last stage of a journey that had taken Elizabeth Webber from her home on Lake Ontario in New York across the country.

It had been the name of the town that had caught her attention in the advertisement she’d seen. She had grown up in region dotted with small villages and hamlets that had the “Port” in its name between Lake Ontario and the Erie Canal that fed into it, the lifeblood of upstate New York. In fact, her hometown had been Port Hamilton. It had seemed like a sign to her — exchanging one lake for another. Surely, they wouldn’t name themselves that without some sort of water.

She’d clung desperately to that sign as she’d read the rest of the advertisement, Lawman, Port Charles, Colorado Territory, aged 29, good appearance and good family. Looking for a strong woman. Must want children.

It had been that final line that convinced her. She glanced down at her sweet son, napping next to her. Cameron, only four years, was the center of her existence, and all she wanted in this world was to give him a better world than they had at home. In Hamilton, everyone knew she was unmarried, and he’d be labeled with that nasty label of bastard.

So she’d sent a letter to the man in Colorado who wanted a wife and a family, and hoped for the best. Now, Elizabeth was finally closing on the miles between Denver and Port Charles, waiting to start her new life and hoping desperately that Sheriff Jason Morgan was everything he’d promised in his letters.

Port Charles lay at the base of the Rocky Mountains, a strange name for the small settlement that had sprung up when the miners flooded the area following the gold and silver strikes of the 1850s. Twenty years later, there was still a decent silver mining operation in business and the settlement had flourished into the largest town for miles. They’d even managed their own railroad spur, connecting themselves to Denver and increasing the business in town.

Jason’s grandfather had made the canny and lucrative decision to uproot his entire family—including his children and grandchildren to invest in those silver and gold mines. The Morgan family was one of the founding families, and that sense of obligation was rooted in Jason from the moment he’d arrived from San Francisco at the age of nine.

Now, he was an adult, walking the streets with a star pinned to his chambray shirt that proclaimed him the ultimate word of law in the town. He rode down the main street, casting his light blue eyes over the buildings and denizens, always looking for trouble. Not that they had a lot of that these days, but he was always ready.

He tied the horse to the post outside the jail where he spent most of his waking hours and tugged off his hat. Inside, at the desk, he found one of his two deputies pouring over papers. Dillon Quartermaine, his younger cousin, jumped, startled at the sound of his boots, and several pieces of papers flew into the air, floating to the ground.

Jason narrowed his eyes as the boy scrambled to his feet and grabbed for the papers. Dillon was always pretty excitable with a tendency to speak at a rapid pace and use his hands to gesture wildly, but over the last few weeks, he’d also become squirrely. Nervous. Something was up.

Jason squatted, reaching for one of the loose papers, and Dillon snatched it back, his face flushing. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Dillon stammered. He cleared his throat, clutching the papers to his chest. He got to his feet. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Cut the bull.” Jason set his hands at his waist. “Don’t make me find out later—”

“I was up all last night thinking about Grandmother,” Dillon said, lifting his chin. “Don’t tell me you weren’t.”

Jason exhaled slowly, some of the suspicion melting away. “Yeah, I’m starting to dread Sunday supper,” he admitted. He removed his hat and set it on the post by the wall. “I thought she’d let this go.”

“She won’t,” Dillon muttered. “Not as long as you keep this up.” Jason shot him a look. “And you know it. She wants us both tied down, but she’d give me a break if you’d just do it—”

Jason scowled. “It’s not that easy,” he said defensively. “I’m busy—”

“You’ve been saying that for almost a year,” his cousin shot back. “You didn’t even try—”

That was true, but it still stung. “Look—” Jason began.

“Nothing. You’re the one that promised Grandmother you’d get married this year, not me. And somehow I got dragged into it.” Dillon stabbed a finger at him. “This is your fault.”

That was also true. If Jason had just stayed strong just a bit more, but his grandmother had a way of looking at them, and everything they’d been through—he dragged a hand over his face. “It’s not that easy,” he repeated. “It’s not like I have a lot of choices.”

“That’s true.” Dillon cleared his throat. “But if you met the right someone, you’d be on board? You promise you’d consider it?”

Jason glanced down at the papers, then back at his cousin. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing. I’m just working on arguments for next Sunday. Eventually Grandmother is going to give up on you, and then I get a starring role.” His eyes were wide. “I’m barely twenty-two! I haven’t even lived yet!”

Jason scowled. “Listen—”

“And I need to have something to say to Grandmother,” Dillon continued. “So you promise if someone showed up you could see yourself marrying—”

“Then I’d consider it,” Jason bit out. “Fine. Tell her that.” He yanked Dillon’s hat off the post next to his. “Now get to work and make your rounds.”

“Mama.” Cameron rubbed his eyes as Elizabeth set him on the bench. “Are we home yet?”

“Not yet darling.” She ruffled his blond hair, then smiled at the train manager. “You said there was a message?” Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to remain calm. A message didn’t mean he’d changed his mind—didn’t mean that she’d spent the last of her funds to drag her son across the country—

“Uh, the sheriff got held up down at the jail,” the manager said, folding his hands. “Said he’d be along as soon as possible. Just have a seat, and it will all be sorted out.”

“Oh.” Well, the letters had said he was the only law enforcement for the entire area, she remembered. There were two duties, but he was in charge. She’d have to understand that sometimes that would have to come first. She could deal with that.

She sat next to Cameron, pulled him close to snuggle, and hoped the wait wouldn’t be too long.

Dillon returned from his rounds, his face a bit flushed. “The train from Denver came in.”

Jason got up from the desk where he’d been sorting the local bulletins and wanted papers from San Francisco. “I heard it a while ago. So?”

“Mike sent a message there’s a delivery for you. For the station,” Dillon clarified. “Don’t know anything else. But you need to pick it up.” He shoved his hat back on his head, wiping at the beads of sweat. “You know how that Pinkerton guy sends all those official papers and gets cranky if I sign for it.”

The Pinkertons had only recently come west to break streaks in San Francisco, and were constantly searching for union leaders in hiding. Jason liked to pretend most of their orders went missing, but occasionally he didn’t have a choice.

“Fine,” Jason said. He reached for his hat. “Let’s get this over with.”

The train station was just outside of town, no more then a ten minute ride from the jail. His cousin went with him, his face still flushed from the heat. Jason reminded himself that he’d need to send him for some water. Idiot might get overheated and get sick, and then what would their grandmother say?

Jason stepped inside the station, scanned the small room and didn’t see Mike Corbin, the manager anywhere. Just a young woman on a bench, with a little boy curled up next to her. She was fair-skinned slightly flushed from the heat, her brown hair caught up beneath a hat with curly tendrils escaping. She turned at their entrance, and then she smiled—her blue eyes lighting up with a sparkle. “You made it.”

Jason stared at her for a long moment, then looked at his cousin, then back at her. She stood, carefully allowing the dozing boy to continue sleeping as she set his head on bundle of cloth she’d had in her lap. “I—”

“The train manager said he didn’t know how long you’d be,” the woman continued, approaching, her smile switching to Dillon, then back to him. “But you weren’t long at all! I’m sorry—” Her cheeks flushed again, and her smile turned sheepish. “I’m doing all the talking and you haven’t had a chance to say a word. I did tell you in my letters I tended to ramble, didn’t I? I tried to warn you.”

In her letters. Jason flashed to the papers Dillon had had that morning, his strange behavior—and then their conversation.

Dillon had taken matters into his own hands, found a woman, and put her right in front of Jason—and she didn’t know a damn thing about it.

June 12, 2022

This entry is part 36 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 60 minutes.

Thursday, February 3, 2000

Harborview Towers: Parking Garage

Jason switched off the engine of his bike and sat for a long moment. He needed to check in with Sonny, and then hopefully Elizabeth had already gone to bed so he wouldn’t have look t her.  She knew what he’d gone to do, of course, but if he could just go to bed, hold her, and then tomorrow, wake up and never talk about Joseph Sorel again—

He dragged himself into the elevator, relieved that security had dialed back to the skeleton crew and that there was no one on duty in front of the penthouses. The fewer people he had to see, the easier it would be for all of them if the body ever surfaced.

It wouldn’t, but it was always good to plan for worst case scenarios.

Sonny had waited up, nursing a tumbler of bourbon. He glanced over and Jason stopped, taking in the strange sense of having lived this moment before.

His partner was sitting in the chair by the fireplace, the liquor in his hand, his hair slightly disheveled, and Jason returning from taking care of business. Just like that night in December.

Except he didn’t have to look at the stairs, didn’t have to worry about what he’d see. Elizabeth was safe across the hall in his bed, and Jason intended to keep it that way.

“Is it done?” Sonny asked, skimming his eyes over Jason’s form. “You’re good?”

“Yes,” Jason said shortly. “It’s done.”

“Good.” Sonny got to his feet, tossed back the last of the bourbon. “Go home. We can talk about everything else tomorrow.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

The room was dark. He could barely see the outline of Elizabeth in bed, resting on her side, one hand draped over the edge. He went into the bathroom, dumped everything he was wearing into the trash, and turned on the shower. There was nothing on him — it hadn’t been that kind of kill, but it still felt like it lingered on his skin and he wouldn’t bring that to her. And he didn’t want her touching anything he’d been wearing.

He’d done what was necessary to protect his family, and he would never regret it. That didn’t mean he wanted to dwell on what he’d had to do.

Jason stepped beneath the spray, only dimly registering it might be a bit too hot. He didn’t always feel temperature well, but he felt the sting against his skin.

He didn’t hear the shower door open, but he heard the hiss. “Are you trying to boil yourself?”

Jason winced, then turned, thinking Elizabeth would just be standing outside the door, holding it open to check on him. His eyes widened when he realized she’d shed herclothes and closed herself into the shower with him, the spray already dampening her hair, slicking it back her head. He muttered, twisting the knob to turn down the hot water. “What—”

“I heard you come home.” She smiled as the water turned cooler. “Thanks—”

“Elizabeth—”

The smile turned a bit nervous as she stood there, and he stayed at the other end of the shower, still not quite sure what she was doing or why. Didn’t she realize where he’d been? What he’d done? Why hadn’t she waited in bed—

Elizabeth bit her lip, then a light came into her eyes that he knew all too well. Determination. She’d folded her arms over her torso, shielding her upper body from him as the discomfort had set in. She let them fall to the side as she closed the short distance between them, the steam and water swirling around them. “I heard you come in,” she repeated, her eyes on him. “I tried to wait up.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he murmured, barely audible over the water, but he couldn’t help him. He trailed his fingers down her shoulders, sliding easily with the slickness of the water.

“I was worried,” she admitted. “And I also knew—” She glanced at the side of the shower, the steam clouding the clear glass. “I saw your clothes in the trash. I thought you might be hurt.”

“I’m not.” He kissed her forehead, then trailed his mouth down her skin to her mouth. “Go back to bed. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You don’t need to do this.” Elizabeth framed his face with hers. “I know who you are.”

“You can’t—”

“And I know where you were.” Her eyes searched his. “It’s over, isn’t it? We’re safe.”

“You’re safe.” For now. Until his choices a thousand years ago put her in danger again.

“Good.” She slid her arms around his neck, pressing her slick body against his and he groaned, letting his forehead drop to rest against hers. “I know who you are,” she said again.  “And I won’t run from it. My face won’t change.”

Jason raised his head, saw the sincerity, the plea to believe her and man, he wanted to. He wanted to believe that this time it was different. That she wasn’t Robin, who had tolerated the other part of him, or Carly who had just wanted the money and power. That here was someone who really did see and understand him. Who wanted him anyway.

He kissed her, slowly and reverently, hoping that it was true, that she really meant it. “Let’s go to bed—”

“Actually—” Elizabeth drew back, her eyes gleaming and her smile turning slightly wicked. “Why don’t we stay right where we are?”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

They slept late the next morning — if there had been a lot of sleep to be had. Jason knew Sonny would call for him eventually, but right now, the morning was theirs. Elizabeth had an evening class and was planning to head to the studio that afternoon, but for now—

He handed her a cup of hot chocolate just the way she liked it, including sprinkles and she beamed at him, curled up in the corner of the sofa. “You really do pay attention.”

Jason sat, his simpler cup of black coffee in hand, and drew her legs over his lap, wanting to be closer to her, needing the contact. “It helps that Emily takes it the same,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I started it. It works great when we’re together. Three packs split two ways.” Elizabeth sipped it, closing her eyes. “Perfect.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. He nearly stayed silent, not wanting to rock the boat. Things were good just the way they were, and he didn’t want to think about anyone else outside this room. But he couldn’t pretend.

“Yesterday,” Jason said, slowly, and looked at her. She raised her brows, one hand wrapped around the handle of the mug, and the other cupping the mug from the other side. “You said I wasn’t ready to talk about why I don’t want to tell Sonny or AJ about the baby.”

She exhaled slowly, and some of the light left her eyes. He regretted it, but as long as they didn’t have this conversation, it would sit between them. And she might honestly not want it to mess things up — but it would. He’d learned the hard way from Robin that words left unsaid were worse than the ones that you screamed at each other. Those unspoken words burned like acid at the foundation of everything you wanted, and you wouldn’t even realize it until everything collapsed.

He wouldn’t do it again. He’d never forgive himself if keeping this secret somehow cost him this time with Elizabeth, for however long she’d stay with him. He wasn’t willing to lose a minute of it if he could stop it.

“I did,” Elizabeth said finally. She drew her legs out of his lap, folded them underneath her body, then reached to set the hot chocolate on the table.

“It sounded like you think you know why I’m doing it,” Jason continued, twisting slightly until they were facing each other. “And that it’s not what I’m saying outloud. You think I’m lying to you.”

“No,” Elizabeth said with a forceful shake of her head. “I don’t think you’re lying. You’d never lie to me.”

“Then—”

“Maybe it’s more accurate to say that I’m worried—” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down as if what she was going to say was so painful she needed to hurt herself first to take the sting out of it. “I’m worried that you’re really protecting Carly. I know it’s about protecting Michael, and I understand that, but he’s barely two. He won’t be called into court to be asked which parent he wants to live with. He won’t even know most of it is happening—”

“Kids know more than we think—”

“I know. I know they do,” Elizabeth assured. “And I know it’ll be upsetting if he loses one of his parents full-time. But I honestly think — whatever else Carly has done in her life, I know she loves Michael. And as much as it hurts you, you know AJ does, too. He’ll know people are angry, but he’ll still feel the love. And I don’t know if it’s a good idea to make this kind of decision because a little boy will be confused for a while.”

Jason exhaled slowly, then looked away, staring at the opposite wall as he took in her words.  Was it really just Michael he was protecting? Or was there some small piece of him that instinctively want to shield Carly after all she’d done to him?

And if that was true—if it really was just Carly he was protecting—what did that say about him? That he was willing to to hurt others to keep Carly happy? To do her bidding and keep her secrets? He’d done it to Robin, hadn’t he? But that was different, he reminded himself. He’d done that to keep Michael. He’d have done anything to keep that precious boy all to himself.

“I’m not telling you what you’re feeling or thinking. I’m sorry if that’s how it sounded. I know you hate that,” Elizabeth added, and he swung his head back. “I think saying that I think there’s more to this for you — maybe that’s my own fears creeping out, you know?”

“Your fears?” he repeated, with a frown. “What—”

“I’m scared you’re really just protecting Carly,” she admitted in a small voice. “That you’ve been doing it so long you don’t know how to stop. Or maybe it’s…you told me weeks ago you didn’t think you were still in love with her, but maybe it’s just how you want to feel—”

He scowled. “Don’t—”

“I’m sorry, that’s me—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, her expression twisted, and he wished he hadn’t started this. “That’s me again. I’m afraid that’s how you feel.”

He  didn’t really see how it was any different. “If it’s what you think, then you think I lied—”

“God, I wish it were that black and white,” Elizabeth muttered. She dragged a hand through hair, then covered her mouth. “It’s—it’s—look, the day we got married, I told you that it was all okay—what happened at the church and what Carly said. I told you I was fine because you hadn’t broken any promises to me. I meant that, Jason. But you saw that as much as I meant it, there was a piece of me that didn’t. Because—” Her voice faltered and she stared down at her hand. At the ring he’d slipped on her finger. “Because until she came in, I forgot for a while why we were there. Which seems insane, I guess, but Father Coates was asking us to repeat the vows, and it didn’t feel like a lie.”

“It didn’t for me either,” Jason told her, and she smiled faintly.

“But then Carly came in and it was like someone popped a bubble and I fell to the ground. Two weeks before we got married, you sat in my studio and told another woman you loved her.”

He exhaled slowly. “I thought I did. That seeing her with Sonny had hurt so much because I loved her. It made sense. But I couldn’t have loved her. It wasn’t real—”

“Jason—”

“It wasn’t,” Jason insisted. “Because all she ever did was hurt me, and all I ever did was clean up after her and wait for the next round. I loved Michael,” he continued. “And I destroyed everything else in my life to keep him. I wanted him back. And the only way to get him back was to keep Carly in my life. You know how easy it is to lie to yourself, Elizabeth. Is it so hard to believe I was doing it, too?”

“No, I guess not,” she admitted.

“I was hurt because of Sonny,” Jason continued, “and I felt like an idiot because everyone had told me who Carly was. I thought I knew who she was. And I was still blindsided by what she could do. Because to give up on Carly—” He closed his eyes and forced out the next words. “It’s giving up on Michael. I know he’ll never be mine again, but I can’t stop wanting it. I can’t stop loving him. I don’t know.”

She didn’t say anything to that, and Jason just sat, absorbing it, realizing the truth in his own words. If he kept Carly happy, he was still holding out some kernel of hope that it would be different. That Michael could be his again. Why did he have to keep learning over and over again that it was over? That Michael wasn’t his to keep and never had been?

“Okay,” Elizabeth said softly. “That’s enough for me.”

Jason frowned, looked at her with confusion. “What?”

“I know how much it hurt to lose him. How much it still hurts. I lost Lucky,” she reminded him, “and I know it’s not the same because maybe it’s worse to lose someone and watch them go off and live a life without you. Michael won’t remember the year he spent with you. For him, it won’t have happened. You get to grieve that for as long you need to, Jason. You let me grieve without limits.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “It’s not the same,” he echoed. “And your grieving didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Except myself,” Elizabeth said with a half smile. “But you gave me the space I needed to realize that, and I’m on the other side. I see a future now, and that wasn’t true six months ago.”

Jason got to his feet, put down his coffee cup. He held out his hand, and confused, Elizabeth took it. He pulled her to his feet. “Thank you,” Jason told her, kissing the inside of her palm. “For trying to understand. But you’re right. It doesn’t matter why I’m doing it, I’m still protecting Carly. And she doesn’t deserve it. She never has.”

“Okay—”

“Come with me.”

Jason pulled her across the hall and then he knocked on Sonny’s door. A moment later, it was pulled open by the man himself, who frowned at the two of them. “What—”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”