January 2, 2022

This entry is part 20 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 65 minutes. Went a bit over, sorry. Ending is a bit awkward, lol, but didn’t want to take another 20 minutes.


Quartermaine Estate: AJ & Carly’s Room

AJ flipped his cell phone closed as he entered the room, finding his wife standing at the window. “The PCPD served a search warrant at the penthouse and the studio.”

Carly turned, her eyes narrowed. “And?”

“And nothing. No arrests.” That didn’t matter to AJ. He’d encouraged her to call, had sat next to her while she’d made her report. He’d grimaced, listening to her depict visiting Jason at the studio and seeing the bullet wound. She’d even thrown her own mother and Elizabeth under the bus, claiming them as witnesses.

While AJ regretted to the risk to Elizabeth and Bobbie, he had more respect for Jason’s way of life. No arrests had been made, and AJ’s source suggested something had gone wrong in the search at the penthouse that had scuttled the case but no one was sure quite what. Either way, Jason and the new wife didn’t look like they were in danger, and Bobbie wasn’t even on the table.

Not that it would matter. Carly had betrayed Jason once again, and this time, AJ hoped like hell his brother would get the picture. Carly didn’t give a damn about anyone but herself and wasn’t worth caring about.

Carly’s lips thinned. “I don’t understand—”

“You threw a grenade at Jason, thinking he’d jump to protect himself, Elizabeth, and Bobbie.” AJ smirked “He did—just not the way you hoped.”

“Shut up—”

“Did you really think the PCPD would be able to do anything with your statement?” AJ leaned against the closed door, amused. “Your word with no evidence?”

“Jason would have a scar—”

“Sure. If they could get a physical examination,” AJ replied. “Sounds like they didn’t. Your word means nothing, Carly. Without evidence to back it up, no district attorney is going to put you on the stand as a credible witness.”

Carly fisted her hands at her side. “So what was this? A test?” she demanded. “Making me choose between my son and Michael?”

“No, this was me showing Jason one last time who you are.”

“And you’re married to me,” she spat. “What does that say about you?”

“You’re what I deserve,” he said simply. “I killed my brother and destroyed my family. Even if I never take another drink again, there’s no redemption for that, Carly.”

“I am nobody’s punishment! I deserve more than that!”

“No, you don’t.” AJ pushed away from the door and approached her, her eyes, damp and furious, focused on him. “Neither of us deserve more than we’ve got, Carlybabes, so maybe you suck it up. I married you, I gave you all the money you wanted, and we’ve got a beautiful son. I’ve got my job at ELQ. What do you really have to complain about? That you don’t have the man you really love?”

Carly hissed, then looked away. “You don’t love me, either.”

“No, I don’t.” He tipped his head. “So what’s it gonna be? Are you going to keep fighting this and planning your escape? Or are you ready to be realistic?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I mean—” AJ tipped her chin up and nodded to the bed behind them. “New start, Carly. And last chance.”

She pursed her lips, glancing at the bed, her eyes calculating when she looked back at him. Then she pushed him hard so that he sprawled across the bed. She crawled across him and ripped his shirt open.

“Could be worse,” she said with a shrug. “You could be ugly.”

AJ smirked, hooked a hand around her neck and dragged her down to him for a kiss. And when in a few weeks she announced she was pregnant, he’d let her believed she’d beaten him.

It might even be fun.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason grimaced as he inspected the leather sofa, sliding his fingers down the split in the cushion, revealing the padding underneath. “Alexis took pictures of this, too?” he asked Sonny as his partner came back in, scowling at the broken items scattered around the downstairs. Jason didn’t have a lot of possession, but what he had—

Glasses and mugs had been thrown around the kitchen, plates were shattered on the floor. The leather sofa hadn’t been the only furniture casualty—the coffee table had one its legs broken—the shelf of travel books had been scattered and some of the cover torn from being stepped on.

“Yeah, yeah. She took everything.” Sonny looked around. “I’m sorry about this, man—”

“I can buy a new sofa,” Jason muttered. And a table. Travel books. Plates and mugs. All of these things were replaceable.

“Not about any of this,” Sonny said, drawing Jason’s attention. “It sucks, but Alexis is right. This looks vindicative and destructive. If they’d left it at this downstairs—”

Most of the destruction had happened on their way out of the apartment—the officers forced to vacate before the search had finished. Capelli hadn’t been the only asshole on the force.

“But they didn’t,” Jason finished. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, can you get some guys to clear this? I don’t want her to deal with—”

“Already on that. And they never got to the studio,” Sonny told Jason who exhaled in relief. “Taggert wanted to search both personally, but he called it off. It’s all tainted.” He glanced up to the second floor. “She okay?”

Jason opened his mouth because Elizabeth had said she was fine and she’d looked fine, but he wasn’t sure if that was true. She didn’t always say what she meant, and he knew she didn’t want to worry him. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, the painting put it over the top,” Sonny muttered. “Could have fixed the dress maybe, but I know she takes her art seriously.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’ll go check on the clean up crew. We’ll get the furniture replaced—”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. I just—” Jason started for the stairs. “I’ll get her out of here for a few hours or something.”

“Good, good. Let me make my calls and I’ll check in with Alexis. If we’re right—if this puts Carly’s story dead in the water—” Sonny nodded. “That would be good. Then we can just focus on getting rid of Sorel.”

He left, and Jason went upstairs, returning to the bedroom where he’d left Elizabeth earlier to deal with the dressers and closets that the PCPD had emptied.

“Hey.” Elizabeth dumped a pile of clothing in the laundry hamper next to the bathroom. “I’m almost done.” She made a face. “How does it look downstairs?”

“Not great,” Jason admitted. “They broke a lot of things and ripped the sofa.” He frowned when he saw the dress still laid out on the bed, the ripped strap and torn bodice evident—and now he saw the dark footprint across the skirt. “I didn’t—”

Her mouth pinched as she crossed to the bed, picking it up. “I think that’s what made me the most angry,” she murmured, sliding her fingers over the dirt and mud specks. Capelli had worn heavy boots and walked through the snow and dirt mixed out out front. “It wasn’t enough to tear it off the hanger—he threw it on the floor—” Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to do anything. I really just wanted to supervise, and it’s not like—I mean—” Her voice faltered and she sank onto the bed. “It’s not like it really matters,” she said softly.

Unsure, Jason sat down on the other side of the dress. “Why doesn’t it matter? It’s your dress—”

She bit her lip, her eyes trained on the white fabric “It’s my wedding dress,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Alexis brought me a few of them, and I got to pick it. Like I was really—like it was real.”

“It was—” Jason reached for her hand, laying it flat over the dress. He could feel the ring he’d placed on her finger only the day before cool against his skin. “It was real,” he finished. “Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but—” She met his eyes. “I mean, it’s not like we—” Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed.

“We got married,” Jason reminded her. He raised her hand, his fingers twisted her wedding ring. “This is real, Elizabeth.”

She managed a smile and reached for his other hand where she’d given him a ring, too. “I know. But it’s still just a dress at the end of the day, I guess. It’s not worth getting arrested over. Not really. But I just—I—” Her eyes met his again and her tongue darted out to lick the corner of her mouth. His body tightened. “It’s not just I wore it in the church yesterday. It’s—I wore it last night.”

Last night. When she’d stood in front of the mirror and he’d stood behind her, unfastening each button—

“And Capelli was—he wasn’t just searching. Or being rough or rude.” Elizabeth released his hands and looked over at the painting, once again propped up against the wall. “Alexis was right, and I knew what he was doing. He dumped out my underwear drawer so I’d feel violated.”

Jason clenched his jaw. “I—”

“And when I tried to stop him from ruining the dress, he stomped on it, ground his foot in—I didn’t say that earlier,” Elizabeth admitted. “I was afraid if I did—”

Jason would have rearranged his face and been arrested. “I’m sorry—”

Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head. “You have nothing to apologize for.” She rose to her feet and went to pick up the painting, her fingers tracing the rip in the canvas. “Capelli was angry from the moment I was involved in the case. The first time he questioned me, he was the one asking the inappropriate questions. I don’t feel like it was personal, either,” she admitted. “It wasn’t that it was me. Not like Taggert. He’s disappointed in me, but Capelli—I’m just an obstacle.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason got to his feet.

“Capelli wanted me to feel like I’d done something wrong. Like I’d committed a crime—and I did, I know that, but—” Elizabeth sighed. “For all they talk about the violence you and Sonny are capable of—” she jerked a shoulder and turned away, setting the painting against the wall again.

Jason waited a moment. “I am violent,” he said in a low voice, unsure why he was saying it only that he needed her to hear it. To know it. “I’ve done worse things than what happened here today.”

Elizabeth faced him, her face unreadable. Then she tipped her head to the side. “To women like me?”

“What?”

“You’ve intentionally humiliated and violated a woman for not doing what you wanted? For not acting the way you expected”

“No, of course not, but—” Jason stumbled to a stop, squinting. “But—”

“But you have a gun and you’ve used it,” she said plainly. “And you have hands. You’ve used those. There are people who aren’t breathing because you still are. You’re capable of violence, Jason. Did you think I didn’t know that?”

“No, but—”

“Your world is violent,” Elizabeth continued, and he just stared at her. “It is. And people like to act like there’s something unique about what you and Sonny do. If you were out of business tomorrow, would things really change? Would there be less violence?”

He had no idea how to answer that. How to react. “Elizabeth—”

“Would I be safe in the park?”

“I—”

“This world isn’t safe for women, Jason. Look at what happened to me here today.” She held out her wrist and for the time he realized it was darkening into a bruise. “A cop did this to me in my own home because I didn’t want him to destroy my wedding dress out of spite and vindictiveness. Capelli will say it’s because I’m with you, and I deserve it because of who you are. But what happened today has nothing to do with any of that. It’s who he is. And it would have happened to any woman he didn’t respect.”

“I guess, but—”

“If you’re waiting for my face to change,” Elizabeth said, turning away and shoving another pile of clothes into the laundry basket. “You’re going to be disappointed. The night we met, you nearly tore the arm off the guy bothering me and never broke a sweat.”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to say to any of that,” Jason finally admitted.

“The world you live in,” Elizabeth replied, meeting his eyes in the mirror over the dresser. “It does scare me. I know it’s dangerous. I know that the bullet you got in December wasn’t the first and probably won’t be the last. I don’t want to lose you that way, but I’m working on accepting it as a possibility.”

“And that’s okay with you?” Jason wanted to know. He stepped up behind her, his fingers lightly brushing her shoulder.

“I’m safe with you,” Elizabeth said softly. “And that’s all that matters to me.”

December 15, 2021

This entry is part 19 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 57 minutes.


Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason immediately reached for his pants, yanking them back up as Elizabeth went straight for the phone. He heard her greet Alexis by name as the pounding on the door continued.  He just shook his head, tugging his shirt on. She kept surprising him with her instincts—he hadn’t even had to say anything about calling his lawyer.

“She’ll be right up,” Elizabeth told him, cradling the phone on her shoulder. Jason nodded, then flipped the lock and pulled the door open, forcing his face into a blank expression even though he wanted to growl at the detectives on his doorstep.

“Took you long enough,” Taggert sneered as he sauntered past Jason, slapping a piece of a paper against him. He held out a second piece to Elizabeth. “I brought a second copy for the wife,” he drawled, his tone setting Jason on edge. “I know how you want to make sure everything is legal.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes but accepted the warrant, scanning the opening lines. Her eyes widened slightly, but that was the only change in her expression. Jason dropped his gaze to the copy in his hands—

They were looking for evidence that Jason had been shot a month earlier—blood-stained, bullet holes — he gritted his teeth. There was nothing to find of course. He’d never stepped foot in the penthouse until he’d nearly recovered, and there was nothing at the studio either. He’d made sure of that after Carly had made her threats—

But they knew he’d been shot which meant Carly had called their bluff.

“We’ll get started down here,” Taggert told the officers who came in after him. He nodded to Capelli. “You take a few uniforms upstairs.”

“I want to go,” Elizabeth said immediately. “I’m allowed,” she added when Capelli just glared at her. “I’m setting up my studio and there are chemicals, okay?”

“Fine,” Taggert retorted before Capelli could protest. Jason wasn’t wild about Elizabeth going upstairs alone to supervise. He had confidence in her, but he knew Capelli was the wild card. New to the PCPD, he was hot-headed and wouldn’t have even the basic respect Taggert did for Elizabeth.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to convince her to do this,” Taggert told Jason, “but you should be god damned ashamed yourself. She’s a kid—”

Jason said nothing. He knew Elizabeth was only eighteen, but why didn’t anyone ever stop to remember that he had no memories older than three years? Why didn’t that count for anything?

“Where’s the warrant?” Alexis demanded, appearing in the doorway, her cheeks flushed. Sonny was just over her shoulder. “What the hell is the basis for this search?” Jason handed her the paperwork. “Where’s Elizabeth?”

“Supervising the search upstairs—” Jason turned when he heard something rip—then saw one of the officers slicing down the cushion of the sofa. “What the—”

“Hey!” Alexis strode forward only to be waylaid by Taggert. “They’re looking for clothing,” she spat. “How the hell—”

“We can do a reasonable—” Taggert began but then there was a cry from the upstairs.

“Stop! Don’t—” Then Elizabeth’s voice went quiet. Even before her voice had faded, Jason had lunged towards the stairs.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

 

Alexis and Sonny had followed Taggert and Jason, but by the time they caught up with them, Alexis thought she might be defending Jason on an assault charge.

Capelli had Elizabeth shoved up against the wall—one hand on her head, the other holding her hands together behind her back. On the ground, between the closet and the bed was a pile of white fabric and nearby, a painting neatly wrapped in brown packaging — with a foot-shaped hole through the middle of it.

Jason lunged forward but Sonny grabbed his partner’s arm at the same time Taggert hauled Capelli away from Elizabeth who was crying, her cheeks flushed.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded of the other cop. “What the—”

“She interfered with my search,” Capelli snarled, “and was resisting arrest—”

“Interfered—” Elizabeth’s words were choppy as she forced herself to take a breath. Jason shoved off Sonny’s hand and went to her, framing her face with his hands. “I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

Alexis took another sweep of the room and her stomach pitched. They were searching for clothing, but the only clothing she could see was Elizabeth’s. The dresser drawers that had been dumped out onto the floor were hers, based on the feminine undergarments strewn in front of the dresser. Dresses and shirts and other pieces clothing had been ripped from hangers—

And the pile of white fabric, Alexis realized now, was Elizabeth’s wedding dress.

“I came in and he was throwing my clothes around,” Elizabeth tried to say. She cleared her throat, looked at Jason. “I tried to tell him where your things were because he was in the closet—and—”

“I can search everything in the damn room,” Capelli retorted, lifting his chin, but even Taggert was glaring at him. “What if he’d hidden evidence—”

“How did the dress get on the floor?” Taggert asked quietly. He went over to the garment bag that had, until the search, been neatly zipped and hanging outside the closet. The zipper was broken off as if it had been forcibly ripped open.

“He tore—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it’s stupid. It’s just a dress. He’s right. He tore my dress, and I got upset. I grabbed his arm—”

Wordlessly, Sonny went to the dress and lifted it up by the bodice. One of the straps was ripped and there was a tear in the delicate bodice. He held it up by the one intact strap, then arched a brow at Capelli. “You think some bloodstained clothing was hiding inside this scrap of lace and tulle?”

Capelli pressed his lips together. “I have every right—”

Taggert knelt down and turned over the painting. He looked at the foot-shaped hole, then at Capelli’s feet. “What happened to the painting?”

“It was on the floor—”

“When I grabbed his arm, he shoved me back,” Elizabeth interrupted. “And then he grabbed that—it was leaning against the wall—” she looked at Jason. “I brought it upstairs yesterday, remember? Before I—”

“I remember,” Jason said flatly. “It was leaning against the wall by the closet. And it was in one piece.”

“He did it on purpose—and then he shoved me against the wall—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have just let him—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jason cut in sharply, and she flinched. “You did nothing wrong.” He fisted his hands at his side. “Or do you want to arrest her for interfering?” he demanded of Taggert who slowly got to his feet.

“You could try it,” Alexis said with a dangerous smile. “But then I’ll explain that Capelli clearly targeted Elizabeth’s possessions in this rooms. Jason’s dresser—untouched. His clothing? Not on the floor. And you went for a wedding dress knowing she only got married yesterday—and this—” She took the painting from Taggert. “This tips it over into destruction.”

“I have every right—”

“Shut your goddamned mouth,” Taggert threw at Capelli who growled. “She’s right. You’ve been pissed ever since you found out about the wedding—”

“He married a witness—”

“And if you think that’s true,” Alexis said pleasantly, “what you’ve done today is nothing more than witness intimidation. You destroyed my client’s possessions and did irrefutable damage to her wedding dress and her painting — these are irreplaceable and I will be filing suit against the department.”

“Get down stairs.” Taggert grabbed Capelli and shoved him towards the door. “And get out of here. We’ll talk back at the station—”

“I can do whatever I want—”

“Like hell you can. Not on my cases.” Taggert swept his eyes over the room, over the other uniforms. “This search is over. We’re leaving.” When they hesitated, he narrowed his eyes. “Now—”

He turned back to Elizabeth who refused to look at him. Regret was etched into his expression, but Taggert said nothing, then left.

“I’ll make sure they all get out,” Sonny said, shoving his hands in his pockets and shaking his head. “And they call us the criminals.” He gently laid the damaged wedding dress on the bed. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said again as she was left alone with Jason and Alexis. “I didn’t mean—”

“Actually,” Alexis said with a half smile. “You might have done us a favor. Capelli has just tainted this entire search warrant. I can make a good case that he was engaging in witness intimidation—he was angry that you were supervising the search,” she added, “and that you’d removed yourself from being interrogated through marriage.” She looked around the room, then at the painting she held. “So he decided to punish you.”

“And that helps us?” Jason asked skeptically.

“They clearly got this warrant based on Carly’s statement,” Alexis said. “The only way to give her statement any corroboration was to find some evidence backing it up. They can’t search now, and I assume even if they searched the studio, there’d be nothing to find.” She shrugged. “They can’t question Elizabeth now because of the intimidation. I won’t let you answer questions under any circumstances,” she said. “No lawyer would. Their case is dead in the water. Without any other evidence.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth rubbed her arms restlessly. “I guess that’s good, then. I wasn’t—”

“Capelli did this to himself,” Alexis assured her. “No one is going to say you were wrong to react when he went after your personal possessions. There’s not a woman in the world who wouldn’t have been upset to have their wedding dress destroyed in front of them—”

She shrugged, and set the painting down. “You reacted naturally, Elizabeth. I’ll put in a call to Mac and put together paperwork. We won’t actually file, but it’ll be enough to hold it over his head.”

She left them alone then, and Jason didn’t know what to say. Carly had followed through with her threats, and Elizabeth had been the one hurt. The painting—

Elizabeth went over to it, tearing away the last of the brown packaging, sighing as she ran her hands over the familiar jumble of colors he remembered from a few weeks earlier. The canvas had been framed with a light wood and looked like it was ready to be hung—

Except for the Capelli-shaped foot in the middle of the ferris wheel.

“I thought it might be nice to hang it in here,” Elizabeth said, numbly, running her fingers over the rips in the canvas.

“Can it be fixed?” Jason asked, his chest squeezing. She’d painted the wind and then she’d made him see it. Because of him, it had been ruined—

“Probably not, but I’ll try, I guess.” Elizabeth set it back down and looked at him. “It’s okay. I’ll put everything back. You should go talk to Sonny and Alexis.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling uncomfortable. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am.” She forced a smile and it made him feel worse. “I’ll be down in a little bit. We’ll get something to eat.”

“Okay.” He went to the door, looked over his shoulder, still unsure, but then left her to clean up the mess the PCPD had left behind.

November 28, 2021

This entry is part 18 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 60 minutes.


Quartermaine Mansion: Master Bedroom

Carly’s voice was filtering out from the bathroom as AJ went into their bedroom that afternoon. He’d slept in another room the night before, still seething over Carly’s humiliation. Everyone knew his wife preferred Jason to him, and AJ put up with it to keep his family together. To give Michael both his parents. For all her faults, Carly was a decent mother and AJ didn’t want to lose his son, even to partial custody.

He was ready to make another attempt at convincing Carly to give their marriage a chance. So he went towards the bathroom and gently pushed on the slightly ajar door to hear whoever she was talking to better.

“I can’t tell you anymore than that,” Carly said, her teeth clenched. “Can’t you work with what I’ve told you? He was shot at the same time that Moreno guy went missing! No, you can’t have my name you little cretin—just do your damn job—” She slammed the phone down and whirled around, stopping dead when she saw AJ leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed. “When did you get here?”

“So my little brother got shot at the same time Anthony Moreno went missing?” AJ repeated. “And you knew about it. How?”

Carly glared at him, her lips pressed together. AJ shook his head. “You’re not going to be able to keep this to yourself, Caroline. How did you know Jason was shot?”

“Jason got pissed at me for some reason,” Carly bit out, “and I couldn’t get a hold of him. Not because I was sleeping with him, so don’t get any ideas—”

“That’s not answering my question—”

“I followed that little twit,” Carly retorted. “She was ducking out of work, claiming to be sick. I followed her back to her studio and confronted them both. Everyone thinks they were sleeping together, but she was taking care of him. He got shot.”

“And you kept the secret because it suited you.” AJ straightened. “Now, because you were wrong about his relationship with Elizabeth Webber—”

“I wasn’t wrong!”

“Obviously you were since they got married yesterday,” AJ said coolly. “Now that Jason has married someone else, you decided to pay him back.”

“Why do you care?” Carly said sullenly. “I would think you’d want me to hurt him—”

AJ wasn’t that wild about Jason these days — not after months of being lied to and then having to go to court when Jason sued for visitation. But at the end of the day, Jason had loved Michael and been a decent father. He’d walked away from the visitation, and to the best of AJ’s knowledge, walked away from Carly. No way she was this angry if Jason had still been giving her hope. Still —

“You’re trying to have it both ways,” AJ said. “You’re doing an anonymous tip, Carly. If you’re ready to make Jason pay and put him in the past, go to the PCPD and make a statement.”

She clenched her jaw. “But—”

“But what?” AJ asked pleasantly. “It doesn’t suit you? You don’t want to burn all the bridges with my brother?”

“You’re deliberately twisting all my words—” Carly exhaled slowly. “Fine. Okay. Will you stop accusing me of sleeping with Jason every other minute if I go to the PCPD?”

“Yes. You go on the record turning my brother in, and I’ll believe it’s done between the two of you.”

General Hospital: Waiting Area

Elizabeth could feel the weight of the stares from nurses, doctors, patients—practically everyone she passed as she went up to the doctor’s offices and towards Gail Baldwin’s office, but she ignored them.

It wasn’t like the way everyone had looked at her after the Christmas party when they’d been snickering and waiting for Jason to get tired of her. Now, they were twisted and turned around — Jason had married her instead of breaking it off. No doubt they were probably going to be counting down the months and waiting for a baby.

Unless the immaculate conception took place, they’d be in for a rude awakening.

She arrived at Gail’s office and waited to be let in by the receptionist, her pulse fluttering. She’d called Gail after Jason had left this morning, mostly on a whim, never expecting her grandmother’s best friend to move around her morning and agree to see her immediately.  Elizabeth thought she’d have more time to put together her thoughts, but now —

“Hello, darling.” Gail smiled, then kissed her cheek. “I had breakfast with your grandmother, so I know congratulations are in order.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course.” Gail squeezed her hands. “Two years ago, you were wondering if you’d ever be able to get this point, and now look at you.”

“That’s why I’m here. Um—” Elizabeth set down her jacket. “The thing is — I mean, Jason and I are married, but we haven’t—and we weren’t—” She closed her eyes. “I know what the rumors were saying, and I know the new ones think I’m pregnant. But I’m not. Jason and I got married, but we haven’t—we haven’t had sex.”

“All right.” Gail gestured for her take a seat. “Let’s talk about it, then.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Still irritated after the meeting with the leaders of the syndicate, Jason was disappointed to find out Elizabeth had left not long after he had. Had she mentioned going on? He didn’t remember, but it wasn’t his business. She could do whatever she wanted as long as she took Francis, and she had.

But he’d been looking forward to coming home and then taking her out on a ride. Getting away from all of this. They hadn’t been able to do that since before New Year’s, and he was starting chafe at all of this. He hated going to those meetings, hated being in this penthouse day after day.

He just wanted to feel the wind rushing past him, the roar of the engine in his ears—

The door opened behind him and Elizabeth came in, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She smiled at him. “Hey. I was hoping I’d get back before you. When did you get here?”

His mood instantly improved, Jason shrugged. “Just now. I didn’t know you were going anywhere.” He winced. “Not that you have to report to me—”

“No, but I’m sure knowing my schedule, especially right now, is useful. And it’s not like you want to call Francis,” Elizabeth said. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know I’d be going anywhere, honestly. I called Gail Baldwin to make an appointment later in the week, and she had a cancellation this morning, so I went to the hospital.”

“Gail?” Jason echoed, remembering that Baldwin’s stepmother was also a therapist. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. It’s just—well—” Elizabeth exhaled in a rush of air. “I know we talked about it this morning, and I know you’re okay with it taking as long as it takes, but I still wanted to get…I don’t know. Some perspective.”

Jason drew his brows together, unsure. “Perspective?”

“Yeah.” She stripped off her coat and tossed it over the desk. “You know, like I trust you. Obviously—” Her cheeks flushed, and he knew she was remembering the night before. Standing in front of the mirror. He wasn’t that great at picturing things — but he didn’t think he’d ever forget that moment.

“At the same time, I guess I just need to understand what exactly I’m afraid of. Because if I can figure that out, we can—or I can—I don’t know, it made sense when Gail and I were talking.” She wrapped one arm around her waist, then used her other hand to bite her thumbnail. “I also don’t know how much you want to talk about any of this—”

“I want to talk about anything you want to,” Jason told her. He took off his jacket because it didn’t look like they were going to the cliffs anytime soon. He grabbed her jacket and then hung them both in the closet, wanting something to do with his hands. “You can tell me anything.”

“You say that, but I’m not sure if you—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Part of working through this means acknowledging what happened to me. In more detail than I think I was ready for when I was in therapy two years ago. And maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s me. I’m afraid to say these things to you. I don’t—” Her voice thickened and she looked away.

Jason approached her, reaching for her hand, sliding his own fingers over the ragged thumbnail she’d bitten nearly to the quick. “You’re afraid that if you talk about what happened to you, it’ll change the way I feel about you,” he realized. She bit her lip, looked away. “That I won’t want to touch you. Or that I’ll be afraid to.”

“I don’t know. Yes. Okay, that’s—I mean, God, Jason, how am I supposed to tell you that the thing that scares me the most if that it’ll feel the same way? Like I’m being ripped apart, and that all I’ll feel is pain, and I’ll never—” She broke off in a rush, her eyes wide. “Oh, God.”

“You tell me like that,” he said roughly, forcing the words. “You just say it. Because you don’t have to live with it by yourself.” And how the hell did he actually handle that? The power and the responsibility of knowing that if he screwed this up — if he took one wrong step — he could bring it back to her — put her in that moment — “I’m scared, too,” he admitted in a low voice.

“You are?” Elizabeth asked. She wiped at her eyes, using her other thumb to dash away the tears. “I don’t want that—it shouldn’t be like this—”

“No, maybe not, but it is. And I care about you. I want this to be good for you. I want to make you feel—” Jason didn’t even know how to put it into words. “I don’t want you be scared of me. At any point.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” Her voice caught on a sob as she said the words. “I’m not. But I’m afraid I will be, and I think it’ll just kill me.” She placed a hand on his chest as she said it and he drew her closer, clasping her hand in his.

“You need to know that there’s nothing you can say to me that’s going to make me stop wanting you,” Jason pledged and she met his eyes. “What you’ve been through—what you still go through every day—you never have to be scared you’ll say something that will change how much I want to be with you. It’s separate for me, okay? I don’t know how else to explain it. It doesn’t change how I see you.”

She rested her forehead against his chest, and they stood there for a long moment, their breathing the only sound in the room.

“G-Gail said that it’s normal for me to feel this way. That this coming up now makes sense. This is the closest I’ve been to a sexual relationship since the attack.” Elizabeth stepped back, but he kept her hand in his. “And that even if we—if I can do this—it doesn’t mean it won’t come back at times. Part of me just—God, wants it to be over with. To just get through it and—” She sighed. “But that’s not fair to you. To tell you just to do it and then I grit my teeth—”

“I wouldn’t—”

“I know—” She managed a weak smile. Then stepped back more, using both hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks now. “And she told me that. She said there’s no one way to get past this. That I can just do what we’ve been doing. Going as far as I feel comfortable with, but what if that takes months?”

“What if it does?” Jason asked, frowning. “You think I’ll change my mind in six weeks?”

“N-No, but I don’t want it to be like that. I’m tired of waiting to get my life back. I’m tired of feeling like what happened to me two years ago—something that took ten minutes—that’s all it was, you know? I was sitting on a bench, minding my own business, trying to think of how I’d get myself out of that stupid lie I’d told—and then I was on the ground, fighting and choking on my own screams—” She pressed her hands to her eyes. “I couldn’t make it stop. I couldn’t make him stop. And then it was over, and he was gone. Ten minutes of my life. It doesn’t get to ruin the rest of it.”

He felt helpless to help her sort through this. He’d done what he could — he’d reassured her, he thought he’d said all the right things, but at the end of the day — he couldn’t get inside her head and change anything. So Jason stood there, remaining silent, waiting.

“It doesn’t get to define who I am,” Elizabeth said, sounding stronger now. “I am not the girl who got raped, and I don’t want to be her forever. I can’t be the girl crawling out of the snow forever.”

“You’re not—”

“I’m more than that. I don’t know who I am all the way yet, but I think—” Elizabeth paused. “I need to be in control. I think that’s what this is. I was okay last night because I—I think I was in control. And then I wasn’t.”

Jason tilted his head to the side, trying to parse it out, then understanding. “Because you made the first move. And then I started to steer you towards the bed. I didn’t see it as taking control, but—”

“I know you didn’t,” she said quickly. “And I wasn’t scared. I just—I couldn’t go any further. But I wasn’t nervous or scared.”

“Okay.” He could live with that. “You need to be in control. That’s not a problem.”

Elizabeth blinked at him, a bit surprised. “It’s not?”

“No. Why would it be? If this is what you need, then that’s good enough for me.” And if at the end of the day, if letting Elizabeth be in complete control, meant he’d get to put his hands on her, then it was a win win situation. “We both get what we want, don’t we?”

“Um, yeah. I guess.” She chewed her lip. “I don’t actually know I’m doing then—”

Jason arched his brow. “You knew what you were doing last night,” he reminded her, his voice low again. Her cheeks flushed, but her eyes were sparkling now, her breathing just a bit quicker. “You took what you wanted. What do you want now?”

“Um—” Elizabeth drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “Really? I can say whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She cleared her throat. “So if I tell you to take off your shirt, you’ll just—you’ll just do it?”

As an answer, Jason reached for the hem of his black sweater and drew it over his head, tossing it behind him. Her eyes were as wide as saucers now and her tongue darted out to lick her lip.

“And you’d—if—I mean, if I asked you to take everything else off—” Her cheeks were flaming now, her voice a bit less sure. “You’d do that, too? You’d stand here in front of me naked?”

“If that’s what you want me to do.” He put his fingers at the buckle of the pants, undid his belt. “Is that what you want?”

“Um. Yes. That’s—” Her voice nearly squeaked as Jason stripped off the belt, tossed it with the shirt, then unzipped his pants. He paused when he was just in his briefs because he wanted her to be sure. Her breathing was even quicker now—

And then there was a knock at the door. Not just a knock, but an aggressive pounding. “Open up! It’s the PCPD! And we have a warrant!”

November 27, 2021

This entry is part 11 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 55 minutes.


General Hospital: Waiting Area

When Emma, Joss, and Trina stepped off the elevators doors the next day, Elizabeth was waiting for them. Joss’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, Aunt Liz, what did I do now?” she groaned. She planted her hands on her hips, then glared at Trina. “What did you snitch on me for this time?”

“Cool it, Barbie—”

“You have a guilty conscience,” Emma said with a roll of her eyes. “You’re always up to something so you’re always on the defense—”

Elizabeth hid a smirk — Joss got that from her mother, of course. Carly had spent so much time plotting, planning, and manipulating that any time anyone looked at her sideways, she went on the attack to hide her own misdeeds.

“No one is in trouble,” Elizabeth said, holding up her hands. “I just wanted to grab Emma for a few minutes. Epiphany knows you’ll be late to your shift,” she told Emma.

“Yeah, my mom always says no one is in trouble, and then I get grounded anyway,” Joss muttered. But they continued down the hall to get the assignments, and Emma hung back.

“Aunt Elizabeth, what’s up?” Emma asked. She shoved her hands into the pocket of her jeans jacket, then wrinkled her nose. “Did Cameron tell you to talk to me? Because it won’t work. He was wrong, and he needs to apologize.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth shook her head, steering her niece towards the sofa in the waiting area. “No, Cameron didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“He thinks he doesn’t have to ask me to Homecoming.” Emma flopped onto the sofa with all the drama a fourteen-year-old girl could muster. “Honestly! He’s taking me for granted and we’re not even married—”

“I—”

“And so I told him he had to put in the work, and then he got mad at me for taking him for granted, like why didn’t I ask him?” Emma demanded. “Does he think I’m not worth the trouble? Don’t I deserve to be asked?”

Elizabeth’s hands felt clammy. Hearing Emma and Cameron arguing about a dance — God, it took her back to nowhere she wanted to go. “I think,” she said carefully, “that maybe you both have a point.”

“Aunt Elizabeth—”

“You absolutely do not deserve to be taken for granted, so no, I don’t think it’s fair for Cameron to just assume you’re going to the dance together. But—” She forced a smile. “Cameron’s not wrong. If you want to go so much, why didn’t you ask him first?”

Emma folded her arms, then kicked at the floor. “I dunno. Maybe because I always have to do everything,” she grumbled. “He’s so slow. I kissed him first. And I asked him out first. I make all the plans. And he just shows up.” She bit her lip. “It’s okay because I like to plan things and I like being in charge. But, like, sometimes I just wanna be asked.”

Elizabeth smiled, squeezed Emma’s knee. “That doesn’t sound unreasonable at all. And in another day or so, if you tell him like that, he might listen.”

“Maybe. I never told him any of that, so maybe I should. Anyway, if you didn’t know about our fight, what did you want?”

“Oh, I just wanted to check in with you,” Elizabeth said. “We haven’t talked since, well, since you found out and told Cameron what happened to me as a teenager.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Are you mad?”

“Of course not, sweetheart. Never,” Elizabeth assured her. “I just wanted to talk to you. Cameron was upset about it, and I know you told your mom you felt okay, but I still wanted to know for myself.”

“Oh. Well, I guess I’m okay. It was more like—you know, you see it on television and stuff, and sometimes we see women at the hospital, and like—” Emma shrugged a shoulder. “It’s weird to think of you going through it. But, also, I know you. And you’re okay. Better than. You got a family and a job, and I don’t know—once you get past feeling bad about it, I don’t know. I didn’t think about it.” She frowned. “Is that okay? I mean, should I be feeling another way—”

“Absolutely not. I want you to feel whatever way you want. I just wanted to us to have a minute.” Elizabeth smiled. “You’re right, though. I am okay. I have an amazing family. Not just the boys and my husband, but I have your parents, and I have you. You all make my life so much better.”

“Same, Aunt Elizabeth.” Emma’s smile was more genuine now. “I remember when Mommy was gone. You helped so much and you let me cuddle and hug you when I missed her so much. Sometimes, I pretended you were my mom. I’m glad I have her back,” Emma added quickly. “But I know it was easier for me and my dad because we had you.”

“We’re all better off for your mom being back in our lives.” Elizabeth smiled and they both got up. “But I’m even more glad that we didn’t lose each other.” She pulled Emma in for a quick, brief hug. “And I’m glad you’re not settling for less than you deserve. Cameron might be my son, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be wrong. Keep standing up for what you want, baby.”

“I will, Aunt Elizabeth. Thanks. It helps to hear that I’m not overreacting. At least, not a lot.” Emma grinned at her. “I better get to work before Epiphany tracks me down.”

General Hospital: Patient Room

Robin fidgeted in the chair, twisting her hands in her lap. Patrick leaned over, placing a hand over hers. “Relax—”

Robin slitted her eyes at her husband. “You keep saying that, and it just makes me want to bash your head in—”

“If it doesn’t take this time, we’ll try again—”

“I know, but—” Robin huffed. “I’m already forty. How much longer do I even have?”

“Saw a woman in Spain get pregnant at sixty-five—”

“Shut up,” Robin muttered, but cracked a smile. “I just want this so much. I want to do so much better with this baby—” She broke off when the door behind her opened, and her doctor came in.

Britta Westbourne took a seat behind the desk, setting a chart down as she did so. Then smiled widely. “Congratulations. The test came back positive.”

Robin exhaled on a whoosh of hair as Patrick grinned. “I’m pregnant? It’s not a mistake?”

“Absolutely not. We’ll monitor closely for a few weeks to make sure the embryo has fully transferred and we’ll continue some of the hormone shots—” Britt picked up a pen. “But you’re pregnant.”

Robin turned to Patrick, her own smile spreading. “We’re pregnant.”

“We are—”

“We’re going to have another baby!”

“That was the plan,” Patrick laughed as she pulled him up, hugging him tightly. “I love you,” he murmured into her hair, still marveling after all this time that she’d come back to them. That he got another chance to be the best husband and father he could be.

“And I’ll get to do this with Elizabeth.” Robin swiped at her eyes, as tears slid down her face. “We get to do it together—oh, I have to call my parents. And Brenda! Brenda will want to know!”

“We can take it one step at a time,” Patrick told her. “Dr. Westbourne, what do we have to schedule next?”

Morgan Home: Kitchen

Elizabeth swirled a spoon in the spaghetti sauce. “I made an appointment with the OB,” she told Jason as he came into the room and headed for the fridge. “Two weeks from Friday.”

“I’ll be there.” He cracked the top from the bottle of beer. “You hear from Robin yet?”

“No,” Elizabeth muttered, staring at her phone as if it were the enemy. “Not yet. I hope the IVF took. She was so excited when she was telling me about it, and I know how much Patrick wants it, too. And it’ll be so much fun to go through this together without any of the drama.”

Jason leaned against the counter. “You mean like being blown up in a explosion?” he said, dryly, referring to the Metro Court Hotel hostage crisis when she’d been pregnant with Jake.

“Not to mention the hotel fire—standing outside, hoping that everyone I loved came out—” And worried that the fire wouldn’t eliminate the evidence of Zander’s body inside. God, it felt so strange to remember that now. She’d believed him dead at her own hands while she’d waiting behind the police lines, a hand on her belly, knowing she’d murdered her son’s father. “And they did,” Elizabeth said finally.

At least that time. Then the hostage crisis at the hotel had cost Jason his father, while the Black and White Ball — “If we have a daughter,” Elizabeth said, “I don’t want to name her Emily.”

“You don’t—” Jason frowned. “I thought you would—I mean, I haven’t thought about it—”

“Emily wouldn’t want that for her,” Elizabeth said. “But I was thinking we could find another way to honor her memory. Maybe we could name her Paige. For Emily’s biological mother. And it was Em’s middle name.” She paused. “Unless you think that would hurt Monica.”

“I don’t think so. Monica always said she and Paige were close, and I think she’d understand.” Jason stroked the small of Elizabeth’s back. “I like the idea of Paige.”

“Paige Audrey.” Elizabeth paused. “I don’t know why I’m picking girl’s names,” she muttered. She turned down the heat. “What do you think about Drake for a boy?”

Jason shrugged. “Sounds good to me. You know that doesn’t matter to me. I mean, it matters—” He paused. “It’s a name. You put some letters in order, and then you write it on a piece of paper. The person makes it their own. I know how important Patrick’s been in your life.”

“I can just hear Steven now,” Elizabeth muttered, “asking where his namesake is. I keep telling him Cameron and Jake have middle names from our side of the family—” She rolled her eyes.

“And that’s why we only visit your brother for Thanksgiving,” Jason reminded her. “It was nice when he lived here, but we like him in Memphis better.”

“Drake Morgan sounds distinguished,” Elizabeth decided. “Or like a name from a soap opera.” She checked her phone again and made a face. “Still nothing from Robin. Ugh, I hate waiting—that reminds me—” She pointed the phone to Jason. “You need to talk to Cameron. If I do it, he’ll think I’m taking Emma’s side.”

Jason scowled. “What did he do?”

“Lets Emma plan all the dates and do all the work, then threw a hissy fit when she told him she wanted to be asked to Homecoming.” Elizabeth poured a glass of water. “Typical guy. Makes the girl make all the first moves, then pretends it was his idea—”

“I never did that,” Jason said, slightly insulted. “Did I?”

Elizabeth peered at him. “Uh, who showed up at who’s penthouse in the middle of a blackout?”

“Yeah, but I kissed you,” he reminded her. “And then after Sonny’s last wedding—I kissed you then, too—”

“Because I asked you to dance.” Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled. “I create the opportunities for you to make a move, and then let you think it was your idea—”

“Oh, yeah?” Jason grinned, then reached out to snag her arm and pull her flush against him. “Is that how it was?”

“Absolutely—” She smirked. “But it was nice of me to let you think it was you—”

“Sounds like we made a good team—” He leaned down to kiss her, sliding his fingers along her jaw, then through her hair. “Any complaints about how it turned out?”

“Not a one,” Elizabeth said, fisting her hands in his shirt, still smiling as he kissed her again. She really did have the best life — and she wasn’t going to let anyone or anything mess this up for her—especially not memories from before.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

 “I have about thirty minutes before Dr. Rob sends out the dogs,” Trina told Emma as they headed towards the doorway. “Why did I have to come anyway?”

“Neutral third party,” Emma said. She stood on her tiptoes to peer inside the diner, then found Cameron sitting at table with his cousins, Michael and Morgan. “He needs to see that I’m not thinking about him or waiting around.”

“But you are, and you’re making me do it, too—”

“Yes, but he doesn’t need to know that! Honestly, Treen—”

Emma turned away from the window at the sound of footsteps behind them, freezing when a man walked into the courtyard. He stopped, too, then smiled at them.

“Hello, ladies. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Trina scowled. “No. And who asked, anyway? Go about your business.”

The man’s smile dipped slightly at Trina’s attitude, but then brightened again as he looked at Emma. “Have a nice evening. Stay out of trouble.”

He went past them into the diner, and Emma swallowed hard. She rubbed her arms — they felt itchy all of a sudden, like she had insects crawling all over her.

“Adults are so weird,” Trina complained, drawing Emma’s attention back to her. “Right?”

“I’ve seen him before,” Emma said. “Um, at Kelly’s. A few days ago—” And somewhere else, hadn’t she? She couldn’t pick it out just yet, but— “Let’s go home before your mom starts calling and demanding to know where you are.”

She wanted to be as far away from Kelly’s as possible.

November 21, 2021

This entry is part 17 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 73 minutes. Went over again, but some of the Liason scenes are taking longer than usual because I want to make sure they’re just right.


Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

Elizabeth lingered outside the kitchen for a long minute, playing with the cuffs of her white sweater, still feeling terribly awkward after the night before. After that…incident in the bedroom, they’d had a mostly silent dinner, and then they’d gone to sleep, though she wasn’t sure how much sleep either of them gotten. She remembered laying in bed, staring up the ceiling, feeling Jason next to her, and wanting to set herself on fire from humiliation.

But they should talk about it, right? She chewed on her bottom lip, debating. He obviously wasn’t going to bring it up, but she had started it, so she should finish it right? Maybe. Or she should never speak of it again and run away to join a convent—

“Now you’re being insane,” she muttered to herself. She drew in a deep breath and went into the kitchen, finding Jason by a counter, sipping coffee. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he replied, but stayed where he was, his eyes on hers. “Did you, uh, sleep okay?”

“Not really,” Elizabeth admitted. She folded her arms, unsure what to do with them. “I, um, wanted to apologize, I guess.”

Jason set his coffee on the counter, his brows drawn together in confusion. “For what?”

Oh, he’d make her say it, wouldn’t he? Because there was no end to this embarrassment. “Last night. Um, I know it’s not fair for me to…” She rubbed a finger against her bottom lip, then dropped it with mortification when she saw his eyes drop to her mouth. “It’s not fair for me to, like, lead you on like that. I’m sorry.”

“Lead me on,” Jason repeated. “When did you do that?”

Elizabeth squinted. Was he being deliberately obtuse or — “Last night,” she repeated. “I asked you to, um, help me with my dress—” And she knew her cheeks were flaming red. The heat was practically turning her insides into an inferno — which was what had happened last night only it hadn’t been embarrassment. “And then I, um—”

She’d practically stripped for him, and even now she didn’t understand what had been going through her head. She’d been standing there, feeling his fingers trail down her back as he unfastened the buttons, and she’d been practically trembling by the time he was finished. Then she’d lost her damn mind.

“I remember.” His voice had changed, gone deeper, and the blue of his eyes were darker. Was that— “That’s not leading me on.”

“I—” Now she didn’t know where to go with any of this. “It wasn’t? But—”

Jason closed the distance between them, reaching for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “We’re going to take this as slow or as fast as you want,” he told her. “And last night, you stopped when you weren’t comfortable moving forward.”

“Yeah, but—” Elizabeth searched his eyes. He really wasn’t irritated or annoyed with her. She’d been so sure — “You’re really not mad? It doesn’t bother you? Because I know you were, um—” Interested, but she didn’t say it.

“Did I want to go further?” he asked. “You know I did.” Jason brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “And yeah, I needed a minute after we stopped, but that still doesn’t mean I’m angry at you for stopping.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, the tension sliding out of her body like a receding wave. “I thought I might be able to—” She touched the fabric of his dark shirt where it had folded slightly over hist chest. “I wasn’t thinking about anything but you until—” Until she’d felt her knees against the bed and knew what was next.

“Good.” He dipped his head and captured her mouth with his. She relaxed against him, sinking into the familiar taste of him mixed with coffee. She’d never liked the flavor until Jason had kissed her.  “You’re what matters,” he murmured against her lips, sliding his fingers through her hair. “There’s going to be stops and starts, but as long as you trust me, we’ll get there.”

“I do trust you.” Elizabeth sighed, then frowned as she touched his shirt again, then drew back realizing he wasn’t just wearing a black t-shirt. It was a thin black sweater, and he wore a pair of dark trousers — not jeans. Not his normal hanging around the house or going to work clothes. “Are you going somewhere?”

Jason grimaced, kissing her one more time before reaching for his coffee. “Yeah, Sonny set up a meeting with some people. We have to tell people about this.”

“This,” Elizabeth repeated, then it clicked. “Oh. That we got married.”

“Yeah. Part of the reason was your protection,” Jason reminded her. “Now we have to go negotiate it.” His eyes iced. “I’m not convinced Sorel wasn’t behind the bomb, but even if he wasn’t—someone was.”

She shivered slightly, folding her arms again. With everything that had been going on with Carly and then getting married, she’d nearly forgotten how this had all started. The bomb on New Year’s felt like another lifetime ago. “Oh. I—Do I need to be there?”

“No,” Jason said firmly. “Sonny and I will go, tell them that you’re my wife, and that changes how they see you. It better,” he muttered as an afterthought and she flashed a hesitant smile. “And then we’ll get Sorel to pledge protection. It’s just—it’s nothing you have to worry about, I mean.”  He paused. “We haven’t really talked about what I do.”

“We don’t have to,” Elizabeth said quickly, but he shook his head.

“We do. You live here,” Jason continued, “and you’ve already dealt with the police because of this. You’re doing fine,” he added. “And you’ve got good instincts, so I’m not worried. But there’s still some things we need to talk about.”

“Okay. I mean, isn’t it basically a don’t ask, don’t tell sort of thing?” Elizabeth asked skeptically. “I don’t ask you anything, and you don’t tell me anything.”

“Well—” Jason frowned. “Yeah, I mean that’s how it’s supposed to be, but—” He looked away. “I don’t know how well that works. That’s how Sonny tries to handle things, and I tried to do with it with Robin.” And Carly, but they both left her name unsaid. “But there are times when you need to know things to keep you safe. You need to know who people are.”

“Like this guy Sorel,” Elizabeth said. “I know about him—”

“But there’s others. You need to know who they are and what they look like,” Jason continued, “and what our relationship is to them so you know who to trust and who not to.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “That sounds fine.”

“But yeah, most of the time, I can’t tell you anything. And it’s easier if you don’t ask,” he admitted. “Because then—”

“Then you don’t have to lie or refuse to tell me,” Elizabeth finished. “I get it, Jason. I do—”

He still didn’t look quite convinced, but before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. He grimaced. “That’s probably Sonny. Or Alexis. Anyone else has to be called up from the front desk by Wally.”

Elizabeth followed him out of the kitchen, her head still spinning a bit. She managed a smile at Sonny as he entered, carrying a manila folder. “Hey, Sonny.”

“Good morning. Jase? You about ready?”

“Yeah.” Jason went over to the closet to draw out a black suit jacket. “What’s that?” he asked Sonny, nodding at the envelope.

“Oh, the photographer developed some of the shots we took after the ceremony yesterday,” Sonny said. “I wanted to have a few in case we got, uh, visits from the PCPD over the next day or so.” He handed the folder to Elizabeth. “You might want to toss some up in a frame or something around the place.” He glanced around the mostly barren penthouse. “I thought you brought your things over from the studio.”

“Um, most of them. There are a few more things I need, but I didn’t really live there long.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Does it really matter? Jason only just moved in here, what—” She looked at him. “A few months ago? And I’ve only been here a few days. If we change everything too fast, wouldn’t that look more fake?”

“Maybe.” Sonny made a face. “Yeah, probably. Still.”

“Jason doesn’t like clutter,” Elizabeth said, “and as long as I have somewhere to paint, I don’t need anything else. I know I can’t go back to the studio until it’s secure,” she told Jason, “so I hope it’s okay if I use one of the rooms upstairs.”

“Yeah, no problem. Let me know if you need anything to make it work.” He turned his attention to Sonny. “You want to get this over with?”

“Yeah, I know how much you like this stuff,” Sonny said dryly.

“I got shot at the last one,” Jason muttered, grabbing his leather jacket off the hook. He ignored Sonny’s flinch and crossed over to Elizabeth, kissing her one more time, then holding her against him. “When I get back,” he said, dropping his voice lower, “do you want go for a ride? The roads should be clear enough.”

“That sounds good.” Her cheeks still flaming because Sonny was right there, she kissed him again. “Um, good luck, I guess.”

Jason and Sonny were gone long enough for Elizabeth to brew herself a cup of tea and settle down in the living room to look over a list of things she needed to make a guest room into a temporary studio. She hoped one of them didn’t have a carpet, but if they all did—she’d need a tarp—

Then the phone rang, jarring her.

“Yeah? Hello?” Elizabeth asked, bracing herself for another diatribe from Emily. She really hadn’t figured out how to say anything about the situation to her best friend, so —

“Hey, Mrs. Morgan—”

Mrs. Morgan. Holy crap.

“Uh, your grandmother is here. Should I send her up?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip, then rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, I guess so.” Audrey had barely just started to accept her relationship with Jason — how the hell was she going to react to a quick wedding? Which just reminded her that she still had to deal with the rest of Port Charles — when she went back to work in a few days, her section would be overflowing again with busybodies wondering why Jason Morgan’s wife was still waiting tables —

Elizabeth opened the door a few minutes later to her grandmother. “Uh, hey, Gram.”

“Hello.” Audrey’s face wasn’t giving Elizabeth much to go on, but she didn’t look angry. “How are you?”

“Uh, all right. Come on in.” Elizabeth closed the door after Audrey had passed her. “I guess you, um, heard.”

“I have.” Audrey set her purse on the desk, removed her coat and scarf, draping them over the purse. Then she reached for Elizabeth’s hand, tilting it back and forth. “It’s a lovely ring. Did Jason pick it out?”

“Yeah, he did. Gram—”

“When I was reconciling with your grandfather,” Audrey said, letting Elizabeth’s hand fall away, “there were some parts of our relationship that were a bit difficult.” She paused. “I had trouble trusting anyone after my marriage to Tom Baldwin ended.”

Elizabeth folded her arms. “Gram—”

“Considering the time period we were in,” Audrey continued, “and the fact that Steve and I had already been married once—we certainly weren’t strangers to one another. Still, it took me time to feel…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Safe, I suppose.”

Elizabeth’s throat tightened. “Was Gramps kind?”

“Steve was the best of men,” Audrey said softly. “And he never once made me feel like any of it was my fault. Until you, he was the only person I ever told.”

“I’m glad, Gram. Um—”

“When I heard from Lila yesterday,” Audrey continued, “I took a minute to hear the happiness in her voice. Lila adores her grandson, and she genuinely likes you. She wanted to welcome you to the family, and hoped I felt the same.” Audrey’s smile was a bit thin. “I don’t think it will surprise you that, at the time, I didn’t. She shamed me with her graciousness. It’s easy to forget that Jason Morgan isn’t just…well, he’s not just the man in the newspaper, is he?”

“He’s not, no.” Elizabeth paused. “I know you might not understand—”

“There are two kinds of safety, I suppose,” Audrey continued. “There’s the external safety. The world around you. And then there’s the feeling of safety you feel inside.” She pressed a fist to her heart. “And I think I had forgotten that. Sometimes one of those feels more important than the other. Particularly when the world fails you. And the world has failed you, darling, repeatedly. With your parents, with that terrible night in the park, with the loss of Lucky—”

Elizabeth’s eyes burned. “You never have.”

“Of course I have, sweetheart.” Audrey paused. “Does Jason—is he kind?” she said finally.

“Yes. More than I ever thought anyone would be. I feel…not just safe,” Elizabeth continued, “but like there’s a future again. I didn’t think I would after Lucky died.”

“Well, I’d hope you believed in the future if you married him. Of course I have my reservations by how fast this seems to be happening,” Audrey admitted and Elizabeth sighed, “but I’ve been known to be hasty in my own time, and impulsive,” she added. Elizabeth smiled. “I certainly don’t want to pretend that I was perfect.”

“But you…you’re okay with this,” Elizabeth said, almost questioningly. “Or at least, you’re not going to cut me out for getting married.”

“I would be denying myself a lot of joy if I did that, wouldn’t I?” Audrey said. “If it doesn’t work out—and it might not—I want you to always know you have a home with me.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Are you here because you hope it doesn’t—”

“No, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just—even your grandfather and I divorced for a time,” Audrey reminded her. “Love doesn’t solve everything, and we often let our own pride get in the way. I just—you might not always have my understanding, but you will have my support.”

“That—” Elizabeth almost couldn’t speak. “That means so much to me, Gram. Thank you.”

“Well, I missed the wedding, but I certainly hope there were photos—”

“Oh—” Elizabeth wiped the tears from her cheek. “The photographer gave us a few. I think we’re getting more, but—” She reached the folder. “Sonny dropped them off this morning, and I almost forgot.” She opened the folder, surprised when she saw more than just the posed shots they’d taken after Carly had crashed the wedding. There was one of her standing alone at the end of the aisle, then another of Jason walking her down — and then one of them speaking their vows.

“Oh, how lovely—” Audrey beamed as Elizabeth handed them to her. “And you look wonderful. That’s such a beautiful dress—thank you. I hope to get a copy of some of these when you get the full package.” She paused on the posed portrait. “He really is a handsome young man. Your grandfather thought highly of Jason before the accident, and he hoped he would recover.” Audrey’s eyes sparkled now as she returned the folder. “You know, he once thought one of his granddaughters would end up with one of Alan’s boys, and I think he secretly hoped it would be Jason since he wanted to be a doctor.”

“Well, I guess Gramps got his wish a little bit,” Elizabeth managed, surprised. And then they both laughed.

No Name Restaurant: Private Dining Room

Jason didn’t think much of any of the men he and Sonny worked with, but Joseph Sorel might be one of the worst. He’d almost believed someone else had set the bomb that night in the studio, but Sorel’s stupid, smug smile made Jason think differently.

“I’ve mostly controlled the internal problems in my organization,” Sorel said coolly as he leaned back in the chair. “Whoever went after Ms. Webber—” He paused. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Morgan,” he corrected with a smile that indicated it had been a deliberate slip. “Whoever went after the young woman—he took a shot and it didn’t work.”

“Well, as a sign of a good faith,” Sonny said, “I expect you’ll be making it clear that if anything happens to Jason’s wife, you’ll be the first person I blame. And Jason will have free reign to handle it as he likes.”

That put a hitch in Sorel’s step because it wasn’t the way of things. “Without evidence?” he demanded. “Without proof—”

“Those are concepts for a court of law,” Sonny murmured. “If I wanted to live within that system, I wouldn’t be here.” He flicked his eyes to Sammy Tagliatti, seated next to Sorel. “What do you think, Tagliatti?”

“I think that’s a very fair deal,” the man said with a silky smile. “I support that. Clearly, the culprit came from your organization,” he said to Sorel. “That makes it your problem—”

Sorel clenched his jaw. “She wasn’t his wife when it happened—”

“Which is probably you’re still breathing,” Daniel Vega proclaimed from the other side of the table. He gestured at Jason. “And why he hasn’t ripped your throat out at this meeting. Shameful, shameful, going after such a young woman just to keep her from cooperating with the police. After Jason eliminated Moreno for you, you try to take something from him?”

Sorel’s face was florid with fury. “That’s not what happened—”

“No, it’s not,” Jason said flatly, drawing their attention as he hadn’t spoken yet. “You and your boss ambushed me at a meeting that was negotiated in good faith to make a deal, and then you finished Moreno off and dumped him. You wanted me framed for the murder, and you tried to use Elizabeth to do it.”

Sorel met his eyes, pursed his lips. “That’s one way to frame the story—”

“I’m in agreement,” Daniel said. “Anything happens to the young Mrs. Morgan, you’ll have my support to handle it however you like,” he told Sonny. “I don’t believe in collateral damage and using women and children. Extra bodies just draws the authorities to us. That’s how they got in trouble in Manhattan and Philly,” he continued. “We don’t give them an inch to come after us here.”

“Tagliatti?” Sonny said.

“Agreed. Sorel will be held responsible if a single hair on the woman’s head is touched. I’ll help dismantle his operation.” Tagliatti smirked. “And enjoy taking pieces of it.”

Accepting that as a price, Sonny nodded, then focused on Sorel. “Any questions?”

“No,” Sorel said tightly. “As I said, I had nothing to do with the bomb. And I’ll make it clear that she’s off limits.”

“Good.” Sonny got to his feet. “I’m glad we understand each other. Elizabeth Morgan is under the protection of the entire syndicate. Harm her and we’ll destroy you.”

November 20, 2021

This entry is part 10 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 55 minutes.


Morgan Home: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth sank down onto the mattress, her eyes wide. “Are you kidding me? Jordan’s really—” Her mouth pinched, and she looked away. “And Cameron and Trina…”

“They looked miserable about it,” Jason admitted, sitting across the room to pull of his boots. “I didn’t feel much better. I hate that he knows who I am.”

“Jason—”

“And that he had to come warn me that the police—” Jason shook his head, sat back. “I don’t want this for them. I’d get out if I could—”

“But it would mean leaving Port Charles and everyone else,” Elizabeth finished. She smiled wanly at him. “We’ve talked about it, Jason, and I’ve always accepted what you do, and I don’t think any of the boys are interested in going into the business. Sonny might have a battle with Morgan—” She sighed, moved to sit at the vanity table. “But our kids, Michael and Joss, Dante and Kristina, I think we’re safe on that score. None of us want this future for them.”

“I hate that a choice I made before I even understood what I was giving up—” Jason paused. “I didn’t care about the future. I didn’t think about having a family, kids—” He stopped. “That’s not the point of any of this,” he muttered. “I don’t know if I can add the extra guys at the hospital that we talked about.”

Elizabeth’s hands stilled as she reached to unfasten her necklace. “Jason.”

“And I can’t have anyone following Baker. Sonny called a little while ago to confirm what we suspected. Our guys at the PCPD said they’re focusing surveillance. Baker’s being watched. Not because of who he is,” Jason said, his jaw clenched, “but because they want to tie anything back to me or Sonny. And they’re watching new hires at the hospital.”

“They care more about you watching a rapist than a rapist working there,” Elizabeth said softly. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Laura won’t cooperate—”

“The board is going over her head. I called Monica. They get funding for this parole program Baker’s in. Anything happens to Baker on their watch, the state might pull the funding. And as far as the system is concerned—”

“He’s nothing more than a blackmailing piece of a shit who served his time.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “You have guards on me at the hospital. I want them on the kids.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I’m never alone,” she told him. She twisted in her seat to face him. “I’m on Patrick’s team in the OR and when I’m not with him or one of the other nurses, I’m with Epiphany and Bobbie doing paperwork. Emma, Joss, and Trina—they’re sent on errands all over the place. I’ll talk to Laura. They need a buddy system or something.”

Her hands were shaking as she tried to remove the necklace again. Jason came over behind her, brushed away her hands with his own. He handed her the chain a moment later. “Baker knows the reason he served every possible second of his sentence was because of you.”

“Because of me and Taggert,” Elizabeth said, tightly. “Taggert went to more of the hearings. What if he finds out Trina is his daughter?” She shook her head. “I’m too old for him now—”

“You have zero evidence that he has a preference,” Jason argued. “We don’t know if it was you at age sixteen or opportunity—” He grimaced as color slid from her cheeks. “I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re right. You’re right.” She rubbed a fist against her heart. “Maybe it was just the way he talked about it,” Elizabeth murmured. “He liked the hunt, and he talked about the dress I was wearing. He blackmailed Emily, remember? And we were the same age.”

“I know.”

“I just—I would never forgive myself if I had guards watching me and one of those girls got hurt. Or any of the girls in the program,” Elizabeth continued. “Thanks to the PCPD, you’re limited by just the people who are already at the hospital. I don’t want Cam to be unprotected, either. But those girls—Emma, Joss, and Trina—they’re mine, too. They’ve grown up here. They’re our babies just as much as the boys are.”

“I know,” Jason said. He put his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading them. “All right, I’ll look at what we have in place at the hospital. Get me a schedule for the program. But don’t ask me to leave you unprotected.”

“I’m not. I just—” She closed her eyes. “Ten years ago. After Manny kidnapped me, and I told you it reminded me of Baker, you asked me if I wanted you to do something about it. I should have said yes. I wanted to.” She swiped at the tears sliding down her cheek. “But I wanted it to be weak. I thought it made me stronger to walk away from him. And now it’s too late. I’ll be damned if the PCPD comes after you because of me.”

“Eventually,” Jason said, “the pressure will be off. The PCPD can’t keep up this surveillance for long. And they don’t know I’m aware of it. When it cools down, all you have to do is say the word.”

“Maybe by then I’ll have change my mind again. I guess it’s just knowing it’s off the table that’s making me feel this way.” She smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror. “I don’t want to think about Tom Baker anymore.”

“Then we won’t.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Emma sipped her milkshake, then pursed her lips as she watched Trina behind the counter. “The Homecoming dance.”

Cameron tore his eyes away from his Switch and frowned at her. “What? Wait. That’s not for another month, is it? Oh, man. Is it sooner?”

“No, relax, I’ll warn you,” Emma promised absently. “I’ll make sure you remember to ask me.”

“I have to ask you?” Cameron scowled. “What’s the point of dating if I still have to do that? Can’t you just assume we’re going?”

Emma looked away from Trina, then matched his scowl with one of her own. “You have to do the work, Cam! You can’t just take me for granted!”

“I kind of think that’s wrong.” Cameron shook his head. “We’re dating. We go to movies every Saturday and I don’t ask you—”

“That’s different! And this is our freshman year!” Emma was positively scandalized. “This is our first Homecoming! How can you not want to ask me?”

Sensing the trap he’d walked into, Cameron decided it time to back up. “Okay, it’s not that I don’t want to,” he said carefully. “Because, like, sure. We gotta talk logistics. You know my mom and your mom are going to spend an hour with photos, and then there’s the car—and do we go with people? You know Joss is gonna wanna go and make eyes at that new kid, and Trina—” He stopped. “Oh, man that’s what started this.”

“Don’t change the subject, Cameron Webber.” Emma was incensed as she shot to her feet. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“Listen, I am on board with this whole get Spencer and Trina thing together—”

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay, I’m not. I think Spencer is a moron and Trina can do better, but you want them together, and I don’t care enough—” Cameron hissed, sat back and folded his arms. “I’m gonna shut up. There’s no winning here.”

“You don’t think I deserve to be asked out like any other girl?” Emma demanded. “We’re not married, you know! You have to put in the work!”

“Well, what about you?” Cameron shot back. “How come I gotta do the work? Why aren’t you asking me?”

“What?”

“Yeah! How come I gotta ask you! You wanna go to the dance more than me. You should ask me!” Almost gleeful because he’d found the loophole to get him out of trouble, he was sure of it, Cameron jabbed a finger at her. “This is the twenty-first century, and women are equal, right? We split the paychecks and all that crap. You know what?” He got to his feet, folded his arms. “I’m not asking you anywhere. You wanna go to Homecoming, you gotta put in the work, too!”

Emma was positively incandescent with fury as she snatched up her coat and purse. “You don’t get it, and I’m not going to explain it to you!” She stalked out of the diner as Cameron stared after her dumbfounded.

“So, I only overheard like every other word,” Trina said, coming up to his side, “but I did get enough to know you’re a moron.”

“Ah, shut up.”

Out in the courtyard, Emma was still fuming as she headed for the bus stop. The absolute nerve of that dumb boy not to just ask her? Why was it so hard? Why did she have to do everything?

Still wrapped up in her rage, Emma ran straight into someone coming around a corner. “Oof! I’m sorry!”

Someone’s hands went to her elbows to keep Emma on her feet. “You okay, little girl?”

“Fine, fine. Sorry—” Emma looked up at who she’d run into, then frowned. The man was average height, a bit stocky. A ski cap was drawn over his head, and he wore a much thicker jacket than most people did in late September, but there was something about him — “Sorry,” she said again. “I need to watch where I’m going.”

She edged away from him, then continued down the block — stopping to take out her phone and text her parents, hoping for a ride home instead of taking the bus.

Tom watched her go, smiling as he drew out the new phone he’d picked up. What a lovely thing — the photos and videos it could take — technology was a beautiful thing. He snapped a few photos of his sweet girl as she stopped at the corner, then walked away, starting to whistle.

Robinson Home: Living Room

“Why I am not surprised?” Portia muttered, as she started to rearrange the magazines on her coffee table — a nervous habit that Taggert recognized. Portia was keeping her hands busy because she really wanted to slap him.

“I came because it was an emergency, but I’m on a case—”

“You’re always on a case.” Portia got to her feet, folding her arms. “When was the last time you spent meaningful time with Trina, huh?”

“I don’t want to—”

“A year ago, she saw you for a week. You come in for a day or two, then zip off again. She deserves more than phone calls, Marcus—”  She hissed. “And you’re leaving after I told you that Jordan Ashford is going to use this case to be the complete bitch she’s always been—”

“What am I supposed to do?” Taggert demanded. “I warned Jordan not to get wrapped up in taking down Corinthos and Morgan. She doesn’t listen to me. She never has. I was a DEA agent when you met me. You knew my schedule and you said you wanted to get married and have a family anyway. You can’t blame me—”

“I thought you’d change—” Her mouth twisted. “And if it hadn’t been for Jordan—”

“Don’t start this shit with me—”

“Well, if you didn’t want to hear about it, then you shouldn’t have had an affair—”

“I never—” Taggert growled. “You know, the nice thing about being divorced, Portia? I never have to listen to this bullshit from you again. I never touched her, but you couldn’t believe I spent all that time away from my family with another woman without sex.” His eyes burned into hers. “I always wondered if you were so sure because you were having an affair of your own.”

Portia stalked over to the door. “You can go.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

General Hospital: Break Room

“Real talk,” Patrick said, setting down his coffee and sitting across from her. “You’ve been around Jason for like, two decades, right?”

“About that.” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“And also the Cassadines.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“What I’m thinking is between the supervillains and the gangsters—” Patrick leaned forward. “You know how to get away with a crime, don’t you?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Patrick—”

“I’m just saying. I know Jason can’t do shit about this guy, but you and me—” Patrick nodded. “Yeah. I think that’s what we need to do. We’ll make him disappear, you make sure the husband has an alibi. We’re golden.”

“You’re insane,” she replied, forcing a smile on her face. “You have just as much to risk as I do. As Jason does.”

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t change how much I want to rip off his face or hire it to be done,” he grumbled.

Her stomach rumbled, and she winced. “Oh man, I want those Doritos,” she muttered, looking at the vending machine. “I have lunch packed, but I just—”

“Cravings.” Patrick nodded sagely. He took out his wallet and flipped through it. He found three dollars — “Highway robbery what they charge us—” Then he stopped, frowning at the photos. “Hey, the one from Aiden’s party is missing.”

“The one of Emma and Robin?” Elizabeth leaned forward. “I saw you put it in there.”

“Yeah, it was in there last week.” He wrinkled his nose. “Probably fell out at home. I’m just used to seeing it when—” He handed her the money. “Go get the Doritos, Webber. I won’t be responsible for what happens if you don’t.”

November 14, 2021

This entry is part 16 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 78 minutes. You’ll understand when you get to the last scene why I went over time, and I hope you’ll forgive me.

Oh, and, uh, rated R if you care about those kinds of things.


Quartermaine Mansion: Foyer

Carly didn’t care who saw her or what they thought as she slammed her way into the foyer and tossed her coat over the banister, preparing to storm up the stairs — until her husband stepped out from the front parlor, his face set like stone.

“We need to talk.”

His anger cut through her own, and Carly remembered that she was limited in her choices. Jason had made his that day in the church, choosing that simpering little waif over her, and now she was stuck for good.

She highly doubted that he was willing to even entertain the thought of getting her out of town now. She’d overplayed her hand, underestimated just how angry he was over Sonny — and she never should have made those remarks about Elizabeth’s rape in front of Jason.

AJ was the only thing that stood between her and losing everything.

Carly turned, her finger gripping the railing. “Why?”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” he demanded. “I’m not going to have this conversation with you in the middle of the foyer.” He jabbed his finger over his shoulder. “Get in here and let’s settle this.”

Carly grimaced, but obeyed. What choice did she have? Jason had made sure of that, hadn’t he?  And what exactly had AJ learned? Her trip to the church?

“You practically ran out of this house after Grandfather made that announcement this morning,” AJ said, closing both the double doors. “I followed you.”

Carly’s face paled, her heart pounding in her chest, in the throat, almost as if it was going to leap out of her mouth. “What?”

“I followed you to the church. I didn’t go in, so God only knows how you humiliated yourself,” AJ bit out, “but I waited. And then you came out, angry and upset. Jason came out later. With Elizabeth. So I guess you didn’t stop the wedding.”

Carly folded her arms, remaining silent. She’d give him nothing.

“I don’t know what the hell my brother is thinking, but I don’t care. I have my son,” AJ continued. “And the prenuptial agreement made it clear — if I get proof you’ve had an affair,  you walk out of here with nothing and I get full custody of Michael. Do I need to remind you of that?”

“No,” Carly growled. “You don’t. I know what I signed—”

“Do you?” AJ demanded. “Because I wanted my son to have a family. His mother and his father. I know you love him, you know that I love him. I’ve given you everything, Carly! Everything! Unlimited access to every cent I own, and what have you done?”

She lifted her chin, said nothing.

“I have never, not once, done a single thing to deserve the way you’ve treated me,” AJ said. “I didn’t have to marry you, you know that. All of Jason’s money wouldn’t have changed what you did to me. What you both did to me. You tried to destroy my life so I wouldn’t suspect Michael was my son. I have proof that you drugged me, that you tried to break my sobriety.”

Carly gritted her teeth. Damn that Lorraine Miller for turning traitor then fleeing town. “I know that.”

“This is the last time you humiliate me, Carly. The absolute last time. Because I don’t need the prenuptial agreement to destroy you. If you think I won’t drag you into court and divorce you, you’re demented. I have all the cards here, Carly. And you have nothing.”

And she knew it. God, she knew it, and she had no one to blame but herself.

“You and my brother—whatever it was—it’s done. Let him go. If he wanted you, Carly, he had his chance. He married another woman. That’s his answer, isn’t it?”

“You—”

“The next time I find you rushing out after Jason, I’m filing for divorce. Michael is young enough to forget you.”

He left then, slamming the double doors behind him as Carly flinched.

She had no choice now. She had to find a way to make her marriage work, to make AJ think this baby was his.

But Jason couldn’t be allowed off the hook so easily. He was going to have to pay for abandoning her.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Had Jason just…had he…

Love doesn’t seem like enough, but it’ll have to be.

Elizabeth’s hand fell from the railing and she stepped down, off the step. She swallowed hard. What did she say to that? How could she respond? He hadn’t even really said it, had he? But wasn’t it nearly the same? Oh, God, she didn’t know what to do—

But she couldn’t keep standing here, staring at him like an idiot. He was trying, wasn’t he? Trying to explain the twisted, complicated relationship with Carly—and honestly, what did he really owe her? They were married for reasons that had nothing to do with their feelings. Would she expect him to be in love with her after a week of dating if she wasn’t in a wedding dress?

Elizabeth took a deep breath, then went over to him, his eyes staying on her with every step she took. Whatever he meant by what he said, whatever was swirling around in her head or his—

She curled her fingers in the lapels of jacket, then tugged him down to her, kissing him with everything she had inside of her, everything she wanted and dreamed and fantasized about, his mouth warm and sweet against hers, his taste as addictive.

His fingers dug into her hair, tugging her head back to deep the kiss, crushing her against him, her feet nearly leaving the ground. Blood pounded in her brain, leapt from her heart, made her knees tremble, and something was ringing—did she hear bells? What was that?

Jason broke away, breathing hard, his eyes glazed slightly. He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. “It’s the phone,” he murmured. “Ignore it.”

No argument there, and Elizabeth dove back in, shoving his jacket off his shoulders, hearing it drop to the floor. But Jason didn’t kiss her again, not like that—instead, he kissed the hollow at the base of her throat and everything shivered, tingled, then burst into flame as his mouth moved across her skin, to the curve of her neck and shoulders, his fingers sliding gently beneath the straps of her dress. One slid off her shoulder—

“If you don’t pick up this phone right now, I am getting on a train, and I will use my key and I will come to that penthouse, and I don’t care—

Emily’s voice burst into the room like a gunshot blast and Elizabeth shoved Jason away, confused and startled. Then focused on the answering machine. “What—”

“I’m going to count to five. One, two—”

Her fingers trembling, Elizabeth jerked the phone off the hook. “Emily.”

“Elizabeth Imogene Webber,” Emily said, “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. Elizabeth pressed her other hand to her forehead, then looked at Jason, his face still flushed—and had she done that? Unbuttoned his shirt halfway? She drew her hand from her face, staring at it like it was alien to her.

“Elizabeth,” Emily repeated. “Are you listening to me? What is this message? And my mom called me, too. She said you got married. To my brother. What the—I just left for school—”

“I—” Elizabeth’s mind blanked. She had a story, didn’t she? She met Jason’s eyes in a blaze of panic. “I don’t—”

Jason, taking pity on her, pressed a button to put her on speakerphone. “Emily.”

“Oh, no, it’s starting already,” Emily said, with some disgust. “I don’t think I’m insane for wanting to know what the hell is going on—”

“You know what’s going on,” Jason said, with a patience and evenness that Elizabeth envied. “Elizabeth and I got married this morning.”

“Oh, for crying out loud—”

“We got married because we wanted to,” Jason continued, “and we didn’t wait because we didn’t want to. That should cover it.”

“It absolutely does not—”

“Emily,” Elizabeth said, out of patience. “We got married this morning. Which means you are calling on our wedding night.”

There was a silence on the other line as Emily digested that information. “Listen—”

“And Elizabeth already told you our sex life is none of your business. We’ll call you tomorrow.” Jason hung up on his sputtering his sister, plunging the room into silence as Elizabeth’s brain skittered and jumped.

We got married because we wanted to…our sex life is none of your business…

“She’ll probably stay in New York at least tonight,” Jason told her.

“Maybe. I’ll leave a message for her when I know she’s in class.” Elizabeth absently drew the sagging strap of her dress back over her shoulder, and his eyes followed the movement. She flushed. “Um, I was gonna go and change. I don’t—” She bit her lip. “The fabric is kind of delicate—I just don’t want anything to happen to it.”

Jason dragged a hand through his hair, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll go—I think there’s some lasagna or something in the freezer. I’ll go defrost it.”

They stared at each other for another long moment, then went their separate ways.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“I think we should be discussing damage control,” Alexis declared as she accepted the glass of wine Sonny handed her. “Carly might already be at the PCPD—”

“She’s impulsive and stupid, but I don’t think she’s going to the police tonight.” Sonny sipped his bourbon, then wandered over to look over the skyline of Port Charles as the sun dipped behind the buildings, plunging the downtown into night. “Tomorrow. Tonight, she’ll be cursing Jason’s name. We have time.”

“Sonny—”

“And we’ve done the damage control,” Sonny reminded her. “Jason and Elizabeth got married in a church with a priest. We’ll have wedding photos of them, there’s rings. They’re living together, and half the town already suspected they were together before this. Carly crashing the wedding did us a favor.”

Alexis grimaced. “Maybe—”

“Because now when she tries to turn on Jason with no corroborating evidence but her word, the PCPD might go after us, but it won’t get to court. You said that, remember? She’s got nothing but her own testimony. Bobbie will lawyer up just like we will.”

“I suppose you’re right. All we have to do is tell the PCPD Carly vowed revenge on Jason and was cruel to Elizabeth about the rape.” Sonny growled the last part as the memory burned. “She barely had credibility before this, and now—it’s gone. She’s destroyed it.”

“Fair enough. I just—I put this idea into Jason’s head, and Elizabeth seized on it to keep Jason in town. I feel responsible. I don’t want either of them hurt.”

“Neither do I,” Sonny said. “I’ve already done enough.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason had put the lasagna in the microwave to defrost, then went into the living room to wait for Elizabeth to come back downstairs. He went over to the desk and picked up his suit jacket where it had dropped to the ground earlier—

None of this was turning out the way he thought it would, but wasn’t that the story of every day since he’d met Elizabeth? Since he’d really and truly met her that night at Jake’s? Wasn’t that part of the reason he’d been drawn to her? Her smiles, her laughter, the twists and turns of conversations—

He hadn’t meant to tell her all of that tonight, hadn’t even known it was inside of him, but he’d desperately needed to explain how he could have done something as stupid as tell Carly he loved her only a few weeks ago without making what he felt for Elizabeth seem wrong or too fast.

He’d believed what he had said to Carly in the moment, but it had already been fading and shifting and turning into something else. Not even hatred, but apathy. The only good Carly had ever brought to his life was Michael, and he couldn’t think of that little boy without the pain that followed.

Jason just wanted to be done with Carly forever, and he wanted Elizabeth to understand that she was the key to that—to his realization that he’d been punishing himself by letting Carly stay in his life, clinging to a hope he could have Michael back.

Michael—and Carly—were in his past. Robin was in the past. And for the first time in a long time, Jason wanted to look to the future.

When the microwave timer went off and Elizabeth still hadn’t come downstairs, Jason went upstairs to check on her. Was she upset? Had he pushed her too hard? Was she still thinking about Carly—

The door to his—their—room was partially ajar, but he still knocked. “Elizabeth? Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah. I forgot—you can come in,” she said. Jason pushed open the door, surprised to find her still in the wedding dress. She was standing in front of the full-length mirror, twisting and trying to reach—”

“It’s buttoned,” Elizabeth said miserably, turning to face him. “I forgot when Alexis put it in. It’s..got all these little tiny buttons, and I can’t—” Her face flushed and she bit her lip. “Can you help?”

“Uh—” Jason nodded, his throat tight. He crossed the room and Elizabeth faced the mirror again, her back to him. His fingers fumbled as  he reached for the small, pearl button. There were at least a dozen, maybe more.

Slowly and carefully, he slid each button individually from the loop, painstaking avoiding the bits of lace and fabric around each. She looked so beautiful, and he didn’t want to make a single rip or tear into it.

As each button came undone, the bodice of the dresser became looser and the two pieces in back gaped, revealing the soft, pale skin of her upper back. The bare skin without a single piece of clothing beneath it. He focused on the dress, ignoring the way her skin felt as his knuckles brushed it, or the way her breathing had changed.

The final button was at the base of her back, and reluctantly, Jason slid the last one out of its loop. He probably could have stopped halfway down—the dress would have been loose enough for her to shimmy out of it, but he hadn’t wanted to stop touching her—and she hadn’t asked him to.

He remained standing behind her, raising his head until he met her eyes in the mirror. She had hands pressed to the front of the dress, holding the bodice in place so that it hadn’t slipped and slid while he’d been unbuttoning the dress.

Then Elizabeth moved her hands, letting them fall to her side. The bodice had been sitting higher on her chest as she held it against herself, but when she let go, the straps on her shoulder loosened first, sliding down her shoulders.

As if in a trace, Jason raised his hands to her shoulders, sliding his fingers beneath the straps. Maybe he meant to pull them back up, to put the dress back into place so that he could leave and give her a chance to change in private—

But Elizabeth raised her hands, sliding a thumb beneath each strap, their fingers brushing. And she gently pulled. Her dress fell from her shoulders, to the ground in a soft rustle, leaving her in nothing but a pair of white panties.

His chest felt eight sizes too big as their eyes remained locked together in the mirror. Elizabeth kept one of his hands in her own, raising it until it cupped one of her breasts. She was biting her lip, and Jason could feel her entire body had tightened, tense from something. Was it desire? Fear?

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did anything that frightened her, that brought back those memories, so even though it took everything inside of him, Jason didn’t move his hand, just stood there, feeling the weight of her in his hand. Then he dropped his head down to brush his lips against the curve of her neck. Her body loosened and she sighed, slumping back against him.

Jason carefully lifted her from the surrounds of the wedding dress, aware that she’d been grabbed and lifted during her attack, and scared beyond words that he’d trigger something. But if he had, Elizabeth never let on, turning to him and wrapping her arms around his neck, then kissing him.

Jason pulled her against him, his fingers sliding across her soft, silky skin. His shirt fell off his shoulders, their skin bare against one another now. He started to gently steer her towards the bed, but when her legs brushed the comforter, Elizabeth was startled, jerking away, her body tensing all over again. Her breathing was choppy, her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry. I—”

“It’s okay,” Jason said immediately. He kissed her one last time, soft and lingering to reassure her. Then leaned down for his shirt, drawing it over her shoulders even as she started to use her hands to cover herself. “It’s okay,” he repeated. She met his eyes, still biting her lip. “I’ll go put the lasagna in the oven, okay? I’ll see you downstairs.”

She nodded, the motion little more than a jerking motion. Jason closed the bedroom door behind him, but instead of going downstairs, he went into one of the guest bathrooms and splashed some cold water on his face.

It was going to be a long night.

November 13, 2021

This entry is part 9 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 58 minutes.


General Hospital: Hub

“I can’t decide if I’m happy with the way Emma handled it,” Robin said, “or if I think I didn’t do it right.” She pursed her lips. “What do you think?”

Elizabeth hesitated. “I don’t know. Maybe she just feels like it’s outside of her. I mean, when you were her age, did you think anything truly terrible was going to happen to you? Before you lost your parents,” she added.

“No, I guess not. I mean, I knew people died and I’d lost Duke at that point. And other people. But even losing my parents—or thinking I did—it wasn’t the same thing as when Stone told me he had AIDs or when Alan told me I was HIV positive.” Robin reached for a chart. “I couldn’t believe it when the results came back. Even after knowing about Stone, I still thought somehow, I’d be spared.”

“Emma’s been around loss and devastation her whole life, just like my boys. She and Cameron have been through a lot. And for him, it was knowing it happened to me. I think Emma just has this…distance from the whole thing. And you’ve raised her to be smart and cautious.”

“It broke my heart listening to her list all the things she did to protect herself from people, and for me to think—well, that’s good and all, but it doesn’t always help. I couldn’t tell her that. I wanted to believe, too,” Robin murmured.

“There’s a type of arrogance that comes with being a teenager—bad things are for other people. Not you. They happen to family and friends. Not you.” Elizabeth tapped a pen. “Still, we should keep our eye on her. And Cameron.”

Morgan House: Living Room

“I don’t know why I have to be here,” Trina complained as Cameron practically towed her across the room towards the back yard. “You can tell him.”

“He’ll want to know exactly what was said, and if I have to do this, someone else has to be uncomfortable, too.” Cameron grimaced. “I am definitely not doing this alone.”

“Yeah, but your dad isn’t going to want to talk about this with me!” Trina complained but clearly Cameron was not interested in listening. He shoved open the back door and found his father on the back porch, one eye on the grill and the other on Jake and Aiden as they played soccer.

Jason turned at their arrival. “Hey, Cam. Trina.” He looked past them. “No one else?”

“Uh, no. I needed to talk to you,” Cameron said. He released Trina’s arm but sent her a glare. “You make a run for it, I’ll drag you back.”

“Ha, that’s if you can catch me.” She huffed and folded her arms.

Jason furrowed his brow, his eyes going back and forth between them. “Is everything okay? Should I call your mother—”

“Oh, no. No. I’m fine. Trina’s fine,” Cameron added. “It’s just — she heard something that she told me and I guess you need to know, but she wasn’t going to do it alone so I’m here to make sure—”

“Whoa, whoa, I never agreed to tell him anything. You’re going to tell him and then I’m here for, like, clarification—” Trina glared at Cameron who growled. “Don’t try it. I’ll just tell Emma on you.”

“Fine. Okay.” Cameron looked back at his father. “I one hundred percent do not want to have this conversation. In fact, no one here wants to do this—”

“Cameron—” Jason began.

“But if I don’t say anything and something happens, then it’s my fault, and Mom’s pregnant. I don’t really need another brother, by the way. I now how genetics work but the ones I have are fine, so if you could—” Cameron huffed. “Never mind. Look, Trina was at her house and overheard her mom arguing with the commissioner about you.”

His father’s face shuttered, taking on that strange blank look at Cameron rarely saw—usually when someone brought up Lucky Spencer, his father, or anyone else associated with the Cassadines.

“Cameron,” Jason said, flicking his eyes at Trina who was staring at the sky as if it held all the answers to the universe. “This isn’t—”

“Yeah, I know. Believe me. But she heard it, and I don’t wanna mess it up, so we’ll just tell you, and then you’ll know and then it won’t be our problem anymore. I very much need this not to be my problem, Dad.” Cameron jabbed a finger at him. “You’re the adult, I’m the kid. I make the problems, you fix it. This is how it’s supposed to be. So here’s a problem. The commissioner said she was gonna be watching you and Uncle Sonny because of Tom Baker. I looked him up, and that’s the guy—” Cameron swallowed hard. “That’s the guy. Trina’s mom was mad about it and yelled at her, but the Commissioner seemed pretty adamant. So, I just—I don’t know. There you go.”

Jason exhaled slowly, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders. He looked at Trina. “Do you have anything to add?”

“Um, no, that mostly covers it. Like he said, Mom was pretty steamed and threatened her against dragging my dad into this which I didn’t understand, but, uh, that really is it. Unless you want word for word—”

“No, that’s fine,” Jason said. He turned back to the grill, and flipped the burgers, setting them on a plate. “Thanks. Now forget all of it.”

“Absolutely, one hundred percent. Erased from the brain.” Cameron snapped his fingers. “Gone.”

“Okay,” Jason repeated. “You staying for dinner, Trina?”

“Uh, no, I’m only supposed to go do homework with Emma in the park, then straight home. Dr. Rob gets cranky when I don’t get home by five. I’m still on house arrest after the hair thing.” Trina glared at Cameron. “And how come you’re not in more trouble? You actually put the dye in the bottle! Why was I the only one—”

Cameron winced. “He didn’t know that, Treen. I had plausible deniability—” He flashed a weak grin at his father who had just arched a brow and crossed his arms. “Joss’s hair looks fine now—her hair person was able to match her natural color—”

“I’ll talk about it with your mom.”

“And that’s what you get,” Trina said with a bright smile. “For making me do this. Bye!” She waved and went inside. Cameron scowled after her.

He turned back to his father. “I’m sorry, Dad. I just—I thought you should know. And if you wanted to know more—”

“It’s fine.” Jason hesitated. “Cameron—”

“And I’m sorry if it messes things up for you. I mean, I don’t want to know anything, but I know that guy didn’t just hurt Mom, but he went after Aunt Emily.” Cameron’s heart lurched at the dim memory of his laughing, smiling aunt who had loved him and his mother.   “They never should have let him out of jail. I don’t care what happens to him. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“It won’t,” Jason promised. He crossed the deck to his son and put a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t going to do anything, anyway. Your mother wanted it left alone, so that’s what we’re doing. And that really is the end of it.”

“Great.” Cameron grinned, relieved. “So I’m gonna go make fun of Jake for letting Aiden score on him, and we’ll pretend none of this ever happened.”

Jason watched his son jog down the steps and over to his brother, where he said something to Jake, and Aiden cackled like a maniac. Most of the time, the boys could ignore who Jason was and what he’d done in his past. The business had slowed over the years, and he and Sonny were mostly legit these days with the odd shipment or business deal. Or idiot who thought he could come disrupt the peace Jason and Sonny had worked so hard for.

But memories were long in Port Charles, and it didn’t matter how inactive Jason had been for the last few years — the PCPD was never going to stop hunting him.

Port Charles Park

Emma frowned when Joss dropped down next to her at the picnic table and dragged open her backpack. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you hang out and do homework here after school,” Joss told her. “And Cameron will call you first about the whole thing. I wanted to know when it happens. I figure, if I’m sitting here, you’ll tell me.”

Emma scowled but went back to her algebra homework, ignoring the blonde sitting across from her. It was so strange to be friends with Joss Jacks without actually being friends with her. She blamed Cameron for this. And Spencer. They’d forced Joss on her for so many years that Emma had given up the good fight.

But now that Joss was here—

“I was thinking that maybe with all this going on,” Emma began and Joss looked up, “that maybe we all try a truce. I mean, other than the blue hair dye—” Joss narrowed her eyes. “Which I wasn’t involved in—”

“I doubt it,” Joss muttered. “Do you know how long it took to fix?”

“Other than that, and the stunt you pulled with Oscar Nero—we’ve mostly been getting along this year. I just—we might not like each other much, Joss, but we’ve always agreed on one thing.”

“Yeah.” Joss made a face. “And I blame Cameron for this.”

“So do I. But his mom has thing going on, and now the police are looking at his dad—and you know if they come for his dad, they might come for your brother’s dad. Which means your mom is in the middle—”

“Yeah, though I don’t think it’ll take Mom that long to be involved.” Joss flipped her hair over her shoulder. “So, what, we don’t play pranks or something?”

“You could just not say things to Trina,” Emma suggested. “Because, like, I don’t like you, but I don’t think you’re a bad person. Sometimes you’re even funny to be around. But you don’t think and you say stuff that isn’t okay. And it makes Trina mad. And it hurts her.”

Joss exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I know,” she admitted. “It’s just hard. She’s never liked me, and I never liked her, and sometimes I just want her to be quiet, and I say stuff — like I did about her hair, and then I’m sorry later.”

“Well, you need to be sorry earlier. And you need to stop. My mom said that’s what always got your mom in trouble. Being impulsive and not thinking about others.”

Joss narrowed her eyes. “And my mom said that your mother’s desperate need to always be right and set standards for everyone else gets her in trouble. So, like, I guess we’re just like them and now we hate each other.”

“Oh, you just insist on always taking the bad stuff—” Emma retorted. They were interrupted as Trina emerged from the path, a dark look cross her face when she saw Joss.

“What is she doing here?” Trina demanded.

“We’re negotiating a truce,” Joss volunteered. “Emma and I were just discussing how much you’ll have to beg me—ow—” She rubbed her leg and glared at Emma. “Fine. Okay. I wanted to know how things went with Cam and his dad, and Emma brought up a truce because we all like Cameron even though everyone hates me, and maybe we don’t fight in front of him.”

Trina sat down across from the other girls with a suspicious expression. “Yeah, okay. Things were fine. It was uncomfortable, but his dad didn’t ask questions and it was over in like five minutes. I didn’t even need to be there, but it’s done now.”

“Good.” Pleased, Emma sat back. “Now we don’t have to worry about it. We did the right thing—”

Joss opened her mouth, then shook her head. “Nope. Not even doing it. That’s me being a truce-keeper.”

“This is not how a truce works—” Trina began, but then there was a rustle and they all turned towards the sound. “What was that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some kids—” Emma began, but Joss wasn’t going to speculate. She shot up from the bench and went over to look.

“There’s nothing here. Maybe it was a bird or an animal.” She shrugged and returned to the table, where they proceed to snark and bicker for another hour before going home.

Morgan Home: Kitchen

Sonny leaned over to kiss Elizabeth’s cheek. “Hey, kid. How are you feeling?”

“Tired mostly,” Elizabeth said, pouring herself a glass of water. “Jason’s outside with boys, cleaning up dinner. I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“Yeah, Jason had something he wanted to run by me in person.” Sonny put up his hands when she just frowned at him. “Hey, you probably know more than I did. I’m a legit coffee exporter these days.”

“Yeah, I know. Jason said things have been quiet since things with Julian and Ava Jerome calmed down.” She shook her head, wiping down the counter. “Wild that he’s alive, and that he’s Sam’s father.”

“Yeah, well, we sent her running back to New York, and he’s down there harassing Sam in Llanview for as long as McBain will let him.” Sonny folded his arms. “I spent my whole life looking over my shoulder. It’s strange I don’t have to do it like I did once.”

“I’m certainly not complaining,” Elizabeth said dryly. “Moreno, Sorel, Alcazar, the Ruizes, the Zaccharas, the Russians—” she shuddered. “I’ve been happy for this break.”

“Considering you brought the Cassadines with you,” Sonny said with a grin, and she rolled her eyes. “I guess we’re about even.”

“Yeah, sure. Can you send the boys in when you go out? They need to do their homework.”

Sonny did as she asked, leaving him alone on the deck with Jason as he cleaned up the grill and finished packing up the leftovers from dinner.

“Thanks for coming by tonight,” Jason said. “I could have—”

“But I don’t still have little kids at home,” Sonny pointed out. “And you spent years coming to me.” He sat at the table. “What’s up?”

Jason explained what Trina had overheard and Sonny’s face darkened. “Are they seriously going to use this bullshit with you? Jordan knows what that asshole did—”

“Yeah, I know.” Jason sat across from him. “The thing is, I think the kids probably undersold it. Or maybe they don’t know. If the PCPD is going to be watching, then they’re going to be watching the hospital and Baker, too. If I send any of our guys in, it’ll just convince Jordan’s she’s right. I can’t have our guys on this.”

“Yeah, they’ll be treating Baker like a goddamn protected witness instead of a raping asshole—” Sonny dragged his hand through his hair. “All right, I guess we’ll have to think outside the box. Maybe get Spinelli to come up with some surveillance that isn’t so obvious. Christ, most of the kids work at the hospital, not just Cam. And Elizabeth.”

“I don’t want him near anyone, but Elizabeth wants it left alone and with this PCPD—” Jason grimaced. “I’ll talk to her about it. Whatever she wants, it’s what we’ll do. But Cameron has been through enough. I don’t want him to worry about this. It was…painful…knowing he felt like he had to tell me.”

“First time I had that conversation with Michael, then with Morgan, it was like torture. At least Dante was brought up knowing what I was,” Sonny muttered. “And Kristina, I guess, it was in the air. But Michael and Morgan knew things, you know? They saw things.”

“Michael lived through the worst years. Cameron—I just want him—and the others—not to know a little longer. But he already knew who I was. One day—” Jason stared down at his hands. “One day they’ll know more.”

“Hey, my kid was working undercover to take me down and forgave me for shooting him,” Sonny reminded him. “Don’t worry so much. At least you can say you didn’t nearly kill any of them.”

Baker’s House: Dark Room

Baker hummed to himself as he clipped another photo of his pretty girl in the park to the drying rack. It was almost like magic seeing her face emerge from the whiteness of the paper, with her lovely eyes worried as she spoke to the blonde who had sat with her.

His pretty Emma had so many lovely friends, and it was worth looking at them twice, but there was something about her.

Baker slid the photo a bit closer to another that he’d developed, one of his sweet Elizabeth from the day before as she’d stood in her backyard with a cup of coffee with one of her children. Pretty Emma looked just like her, with her dark hair and sweet smile. They could have been mother and daughter.

It was a shame sweet Elizabeth didn’t have daughters of her own, but Baker had watched and heard enough to know that Emma was practically family to her. Maybe that was why he’d been drawn to her over the others.

One day, he’d find out how deep the similarities were, and if he’d have the same fond memories of Emma as he did of Elizabeth.

One day.

November 7, 2021

This entry is part 8 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 60 minutes.


General Hospital: Hallway

“Hey—” Elizabeth caught Patrick by the elbow as he left a patient’s room. “Do you have a minute?”

“For you, Webber, always.” Patrick returned the chart to the door, and then joined her. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Emma,” Elizabeth said, gesturing for them to head into an empty room for some privacy. “She, uh, found out about what happened to me when I was a kid.”

Patrick stared at her, then grimaced. “Eavesdropping at the door again, huh?” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Did she come to talk to you?”

“No, but she told Cameron, and I’ve talked to him.” Elizabeth put a hand out. “I’m not angry with her. I couldn’t be. Cameron had a lot of questions and I know he’s struggling with. I was worried about Emma. I thought you might want to talk to her. Or Robin. Or I can if you want me to.”

Patrick sat on the bed, exhaling slowly. “I know I pretend not to notice that our kids are dating,” he told her, “but you know, secretly, I was thrilled.”

Frowning, Elizabeth sat next to him. “What do you mean?”

“I know Cameron. Hell, I half-raised him. And I know you and Jason. I know he treat Emma well, and that he’d never hurt her. Even though I don’t think she should stay with the same kid she liked at fourteen, part of me just wants her to never date anyone else.” He looked at her. “It’s terrifying. I mean, for all parents, you know that. But there’s something extra terrifying about letting a young woman out into this world.”

“I know.” Elizabeth pressed a hand to her still flat belly. “I worry about my boys, but I’ll always worry about Emma. And Joss and Trina, and all the other girls who’ve come through my house.”

“I’ll talk to Robin. She’ll probably want to say something to Emma, or maybe she’ll want you to. I don’t know,” he admitted. He looked at Elizabeth. “I’ve never been able to protect Emma from most of the bad stuff. She grew up around Lisa Niles and the Cassadines. Her uncle is still in prison—” He looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes. “But this feels different.”

He met her eyes. “What do I even say to her?” he asked softly. “How can you ever talk to your daughter about something like this? What would you say if Emma was  yours?”

“Sometimes she does feel a little bit mine,” Elizabeth confessed. “And I don’t know. You want to give her a list of all the things she shouldn’t do to protect herself, and it sucks. Because why does she have to worry about walking alone in a park or what boy she dates. She should never have to be scared.” She looked at the wall in front of them. “The rape took over my entire existence for almost a year. It was was my every waking thought, and I couldn’t imagine a time when it wouldn’t be the first thing I thought about when I woke up or my last thought before I went to sleep. On the nights I could sleep.”

She bit her lip. “And it was worse because for so long, I blamed myself. If I hadn’t lied, if I hadn’t gone in that park, if I hadn’t sat down at that bench—if, if, if—” Her voice faltered. “And sometimes I blamed Lucky, even though I wouldn’t have told him that. If he hadn’t liked my sister. If he hadn’t taken so long to notice I wasn’t there—why didn’t anyone even notice I was gone?” She rubbed her chest. “God. I was just a stupid kid with too much pride to admit I’d lied about having a date.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I didn’t deserve what happened to me,” she continued softly. “But it too so long to believe that. To understand that there was nothing I could have done to change what happened that night.”

She looked at him. “What I would tell my own daughter, what I’ve told Cameron and will tell his siblings—the world can be a dark and cruel place filled with people who want to do nothing but hurt you. And sometimes, they’ll win. Sometimes you’ll get hurt and it will feel like the end of the world. But it’s also a world filled with good. With people like your uncle Patrick and your aunt Robin, and Trina and Spencer and Joss, and Laura, and the people who love you. It’s filled with such light and beauty that if you let yourself be open to it, the dark can’t win.”

Patrick managed a smile. “And that works?”

“Most of the time.” She paused. “I  almost let the rape drown me and become the only thing that mattered about my life. I thought I’d never have a family. That I’d never find a man who loved me because I couldn’t imagine being touched.” She swiped at her tears. “I’d cry myself to sleep at night because I thought my life was over at sixteen and I didn’t even know I’d had any real dreams for myself until I thought they’d been shattered.”

She took a deep breath. “But Lucky kept me anchored to the future, and no matter what he’s done in the years since, I will always be grateful for that. I fought back, but he stood next to me while I did it. And then, later Laura was there for me. Emily and Nikolas. Jason. I pieced my life back together, painfully, like a shattered window. But I always felt a bit fragile. A bit jagged, like the pieces hadn’t been put together all the way or I’d done something wrong.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

“Sometimes,” Elizabeth admitted. “I had that panic attack when I saw Baker, and I just—it shouldn’t be like this all these years later, Patrick. It shouldn’t be this thing that can rise up and choke me from all this time later.” She got to her feet. “I keep telling everyone I’m fine, even Jason. I think they believe me.”

“But you’re not fine.”

“I’m—” Elizabeth looked at him. “Patrick, we don’t have to do this. I’m okay—”

“Hey.” He got to his feet. “You know you can tell me anything, babe. That’s how this works. You’ll tell me, and it’ll be easier to tell Jason. Because you have to. You know that.”

“I don’t want anyone to worry about me. I’m stronger than I look—” She pressed her lips together. “But the dreams are back.”

“The dreams?” Patrick echoed.

“The nightmares,” she corrected softly. “Jason probably knows about them. He hasn’t said anything, but I know he probably knows.”

She closed her eyes. “Before—before it was just reliving that night. I’m still sixteen, I’m still in that red dress, sitting on the bench—”

He took her hand, squeezed it. “Go on. If you can.”

“A-and he grabs me—” Her voice broke. “I fought so hard, you know? I tried to cling to the bench—I tried to bite down on his hand, but I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t fight back. I couldn’t stop it.” She pressed her hands to her eyes. “The nightmares when they’ve come have always been the same. I’ve always been sixteen.”

“But you’re not sixteen in the new ones,” Patrick said softly and Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s now. And you see Baker. The way he is now.”

“There should just be a point where it ends,” Elizabeth bit out. “Where I get to put it in a box and move on, and I don’t know why I can’t—”

Patrick enfolded her into a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head. “You do put it in a box, honey. You close the flaps and you put it in the attic for months and years at a time. When was the last time you even thought about it before Baker showed up?”

“Oh, God—” Elizabeth sighed in a rush of air. “Maybe last year? When Cameron took Emma to that dance at the middle school. Emma—I mean she looks like you and Robin, but she’s a brunette, and her dress—it just—I flashed to it. But before then, years maybe.”

“I think the fact that you can put it away for so long is the real victory. Because it happened, Elizabeth. It won’t ever be something you an erase. But you didn’t let it define you. You’re an amazing nurse, the world’s best adopted sister, the most generous and forgiving of women because you married Jason Morgan after all the crap he put you through, and the world’s second best mother because I’m contractually obligated to put my wife first.”

Elizabeth laughed, then dropped her head against Patrick’s chest. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you, too. Promise me you’ll go home and talk to your husband, okay? Despite all the reasons I shouldn’t, I actually like him most of the time. Thanks for giving me some thoughts for how to talk to Emma. We might still pull you in, Aunt Liz, so be on deck.”

Port Charles High School: Cafeteria

“Why are you telling me this?” Cameron demanded, setting his milk carton down with a thud so hard some of the liquid slopped out over the edge. He glared at Trina, one of his oldest friends. “What am I going to do with this?”

“Uh, I don’t know, keep your dad out of prison?” Trina retorted. She looked at Spencer for some backup. “Can you explain the facts of life to this fool?”

“I’ve been trying most of my life,” Spencer said, flashing her a grin that she only narrowed her eyes at.

“I think Trina’s right,” Joss said, which put the rest of the table into complete silence as everyone stared at her. “What?”

“I’m just waiting for the ground to shake,” Spencer said. He actually reached down to touch the floor of the cafeteria. “Hmmm, can’t tell if the linoleum is always that temperature or if hell is frozen over.”

“Ha,” Joss muttered. “Just because Trina and I hate each other—”

“Every day—”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t admit when she’s right. I mean, I know it’s crazy since it hasn’t happened ever before—”

“You wouldn’t know what being right would look like if your daddy bought it for you,” Trina shot back.

Emma put her head in her hands. “Don’t you guys ever get bored of this?”

“Not of watching it.” Spencer unwrapped a lollipop. “The real question is—” He aimed the pop at Cameron. “What is he doing to do?”

“You overheard the commissioner of police telling your mom that she’s gonna be on my dad like white on rice because she thinks this is going to be her big shot at finally taking down my dad and Sonny.” Cameron grimaced. “And this being my mother’s rape.”

That took some of the fun out of the conversation as even Spencer sat back, a bit white-faced. “No one said that this was a good thing,” he told his cousin quietly. “And I’m really sorry about what your mom is going through. What she went through. She’s always been good to me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“Which you almost never did,” Joss muttered, and Spencer glared at her.

“I almost got us to Greece,” he reminded her. “It was your crazy mother tracking you that got us caught—”

“Oh, let’s not re-litigate that,” Emma said, waving at the two of them. “Honestly. Focus.”

“Anyway,” Spencer bit out, tossing Joss another dirty look. “My point is that like it or not, Trina overhearing the conversation is a good thing. Yeah, it sucks you’re going to have say something to your dad because I know we all like to pretend we don’t know who Sonny and Jason are.”

“But this is more important,” Emma said to Cameron. “The police are gonna be watching your dad even more, and if anything happens to this guy, they’re gonna go after him. You know your mom doesn’t need that. Not with, um, everything else.”

“What’s everything else? What’s going on?” Joss demanded. “What don’t I know?”

“Call in the military, Joss Jacks is out of the loop,” Trina said with a roll of her eyes. “Ow—” she glared at Spencer. “Like you weren’t thinking the same thing.”

“My mom is pregnant,” Cameron told them with a heavy sigh. “She just found out, and, like, I know my dad is worried because she had some miscarriages before. One before I was born, and one after me. And I think she’s had other health issues. I don’t know. They don’t talk near the vent a lot anymore.”

Emma squeezed his hand. “So it’s even more important that your dad has all the information he needs to protect your mom. Even if your dad doesn’t do anything, the PCPD doesn’t always play fair.”

“Yeah, I know. Man, I really don’t want to have this conversation,” he muttered.

Scorpio-Drake House: Emma’s Bedroom

Later that night, Emma was seated at her vanity, brushing out her hair and keeping an eye on her phone. She was hoping Cameron would talk to his father tonight, but she knew he’d probably procrastinate.

She’d have to push him on it, otherwise it was going to eat her alive.

She turned at the knock on her door, finding her mother standing there. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing. I just—” Robin wrinkled her nose as she came in and sat down. “Listen, we need to have a conversation about something, and I don’t really know how to start it. Um, Cameron and his mother talked about this, and she was worried about you—so, I guess—I just wanted to know if you had any questions about what happened.”

“You mean about Cameron’s mom getting raped when she was a little older than us?” Emma said, and Robin’s cheeks flushed. “Mom, not saying the word doesn’t make it any less horrible. I’m okay. I’m sad for Aunt Liz. After everything else she’s been through with Jake and all that, this seems really terrible.”

“Yeah, yeah, it is. Um, so you don’t—” Robin tipped her head. “You don’t have any questions?”

“You mean, like about what happened to her specifically or like, rape in general.” Emma bit her lip. “I don’t know. Not really. It seems really scary, but I try to do all the things I’m supposed to. You and Dad don’t let me out on school nights, so that’s good. And I get rides to everything. I don’t walk home alone. I don’t do any super sketchy on social media, and I don’t talk to strangers unless I’m at the hospital.” She looked at her mother. “Am I supposed to have questions?”

“No, no. I just—um, if you did, you could talk to me. Or Aunt Liz said you can say something to her. She just—she loves you, baby.”

“I know. I love her, too.” Emma paused. “Are you okay, Mom?” she asked softly. “You look upset?”

“Oh, just—” Robin sighed. “I knew Elizabeth back when this happened. Not well, but I was aware of it at the time. And I just, I look at you—she wasn’t much older than you. It’s scary, I guess. But you’re right. You’re responsible and you’ve done everything we’ve told you.” She got to her feet. “But please. If you need anything or you want to talk about anything—”

“I know.” Emma got to her feet and went over to hug her mother. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Morgan House: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth twisted her wedding ring around her finger as she went into their room that night after lights were out for the boys. Jason was sitting on the bed, kicking off his boots. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He got up and came over to kiss her lightly. “You okay? You looked a little nauseous at dinner.”

“Yeah. I hate that they call it morning sickness,” she muttered. “It feels like it happens all the damn time.”

Jason smoothed his hands up and down her arm. “You should have said something,” he told her. “I’ll get you ginger ale or something—”

“I got it, I’m okay—” She stopped. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have. I’m just—” Elizabeth hesitated. “I’ve never been with anyone at this stage of pregnancy. Or really at any stage,” she admitted. “Ric was barely there with Cameron, and Lucky was in rehab, then were separated, and well—” She met his eyes. “Even after all this time, it’s still hard for me to turn to you. I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He kissed her again, lingering. “And we’re not going to fix that overnight or even in three years,” Jason said. “It’s okay.”

“Thank you for feeling that way. Um, there’s something else.” She looked down at her hands. “I’ve…been having nightmares.”

From the way his body tensed, Elizabeth knew her suspicions had been correct. “But you knew that.”

“I’m not a heavy sleeper,” he reminded her gently. “So yeah, I knew. I also knew you’d talk about it when you were ready.” Jason brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. “Are you ready?”

“Not really. But I just—tonight, can you hold me? I mean, you normally do,” she added, “but when I wake up, um, can I—can I wake you, too? Or—”

“Anything you need.” He kissed her forehead, then drew her into his arms, and she closed her eyes, feeling safe there but knowing that it wouldn’t last forever.

November 6, 2021

This entry is part 15 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 61 minutes. Went a minute over but I hope the ending is worth it.


St. Timothy’s Church: Chapel

Ten minutes earlier

Jason tugged at the collar of his shirt, then glanced at Sonny standing next to him without a care in the world. Of course not. He wasn’t the one getting married, Jason thought, then returned his attention to the set of double doors at the end of the aisle, separating the chapel from the anteroom.

Father Coates emerged from a room off the front of the chapel, clad in the elaborate white and gold robes that he wore during Sunday services. He nodded to a woman sitting at the organ off to the side who began to play.

He swallowed hard as the first notes of the wedding march wafted through the church. This was really happening. He was really getting married, and any second, the doors at the end of the aisle would open and—

Alexis pushed both of the doors open, flashed them both a harried smile, then went back around a corner, disappearing for a minute. Jason’s collar felt tight again. Was Elizabeth having second thoughts? Third thoughts? She’d be insane to go through with this—

Then Alexis returned and came down the aisle to stand across from Jason, leaving an empty space for Elizabeth to stand.

“We’re good,” Alexis told them both in a voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t worry.”

That was easier said than done. All Jason could do was worry. Would he hurt Elizabeth? Would their friendship be ruined by this? Would anything that had grown between them survive this crazy plan? Six months earlier, she’d barely been a blip on his radar, and now it as if she consumed if every waking thought—

Elizabeth appeared then, walking from around the corner, pausing at the threshold of the chapel. The tulips he’d given her clutched in her hands, the blooms on on the flowers wavering slightly as her hands trembled.

Her face was pale, her eyes were wide, her chaotic curls spilling around her face, over her shoulders, brushing the wide straps of the dress she wore. Jason’s breath caught at the sight of her, in wedding white, the bodice curving and clinging tightly, then exploding into a fluff of soft, floating fabric that fell just below her knees.

Her eyes locked on his and she offered a smile, even as the tulips continued to tremble. She was as nervous as he was, Jason realized. And she wasn’t moving. The wedding march continued, but she hadn’t taken another step.

He thought about how beautiful she looked, and how much better she deserved on her wedding day than an empty church with only his lawyer and best friend as witness. There was no one to walk her down the aisle or to stand up with her that belonged to her.

Without thinking, Jason started moving. He went down the aisle, their eyes holding each other’s until he reached her. He held out his arm, and she smiled at him again, but it was more genuine now and reached her eyes, the sparkle he enjoyed so much lighting them up.

“We’re in this together, remember?” he promised her.

“I remember.” Elizabeth took his arm and then he led her down the aisle to stand in front of Father Coates. She handed the tulips to Alexis, then turned back to take Jason’s hands so that Father Coates could begin the ceremony.

Jason only half listened to the words the priest said, talking about the importance of marriage, the sanctity of the promises they were about to make, and the commitment that was being undertaken. He knew all the reasons they’d agreed to do this, and all the reasons why it might be a mistake.

He hadn’t proposed to her, and she had no engagement ring. There’d been no celebration, no whispered words of love and forever.  And yet, for all that he knew this was not a real marriage—

It didn’t feel false. It didn’t feel like a lie. When Father Coates asked Jason if he’d promise to love and to cherish Elizabeth, and he said, “I do”, every word of it felt like a promise he meant to keep.

Elizabeth’s soft, but firm voice repeated the same vow he’d taken seconds earlier, and then the priest asked them about rings. Elizabeth blinked in surprise, but Jason was already turning to Sonny.

His partner handed him the box from the store they’d visited that morning, and Jason turned back to her, opening it and removing a gold band with diamonds inset. He reached for her hand even as she was lifting it to him.

Father Coates prompted her with the vows for the exchange of rings, her voice wavering slightly as he slid the band onto her hand. Then Jason turned back to Sonny who handed him a second gold band, this one was plainer and wider to fit his own hand. “I didn’t get a chance to give this to you earlier,” he told her.

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, but then took the ring from him, returning it as she slid it onto the finger of his left hand, her touch light and soft, the red polish of her nails stark against his skin.

Jason repeated the same vows that she’d spoken a moment ago. “I, Jason, receive this ring       as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

Father Coates blessed the rings, then completed the ceremony. “May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder.” He closed his Bible, then smiled at Jason. “You may now kiss the bride.”

In a rush of breath, Jason looked back at Elizabeth, realizing that they’d done it. They were married. She smiled at him, tremulous but…happy? Was she really happy? He tipped up her head, then leaned down. Her mouth opened beneath his with a soft sigh, and for a moment, he nearly forgot where they were, his other hand sliding around her waist to draw her closer.

He would have remembered in another minute or Sonny would have coughed or something—but instead, the double doors, which one of the altar boys had closed after the ceremony had begun, slammed open.

And there was Carly, standing at the end of the aisle, stricken and furious.

——

Elizabeth, still in a daze, had trouble processing the scene at first. Her mouth was still warm from Jason’s as she drew away from him, startled at the interruption.

“What the hell is going on here?” Carly demanded as she stalked down the aisle, her brown eyes snapping with anger. “What the hell is this?”

Jason’s arm, still around Elizabeth’s waist, tensed, and he drew her closer.

“Father,” Sonny murmured, going over to the priest. “If we could have a minute.”

The priest, accustomed to the drama of a wedding involving Sonny Corinthos, merely inclined his head. He left the room, followed by the altar boys and the piano player.

“You think this is going to do anything?” Carly demanded. She focused on Jason. “You think this is going to stop me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason said evenly. He looked at Sonny. “How did she get in?”

“I don’t know,” Sonny said tightly, “but I’ll be asking that question—”

“Do you expect me to believe you’re marrying this child because you’re in love?” Carly spat. “Please—”

“Carly, I hardly think you want this to get back to your husband,” Alexis said coming forward slightly, reaching out as if she were going to take Carly by the hand and draw her away. “Why don’t we—”

“Don’t touch me!” Carly slapped at her then strode forward, grabbing Jason by the lapel of his suit jacket, shaking him.

Elizabeth stepped back as Jason grimaced and released her, reaching up to take Carly’s hands and lightly pushing her back.

“You cannot stand here and promise to love and cherish her when a month ago you were telling me that you loved me!” Carly cried.

Elizabeth sucked in a breath without thinking, and some of her reaction must have shown in her face because Carly’s eyes were now lit with glee as she turned her attention to Elizabeth. Jason turned, his face lined with irritation—and guilt.

Because it was true. She could read his expressions now, and she knew that Carly wasn’t lying. Not about that.

Jason had told Carly a month ago that he loved her.

The air was sucked out of the room and reality returned, almost as if the hazy dreamy fantasy she’d been enjoying had been popped like a pin in a bubble.

Jason had barely admitted to more than possessing feelings for her, some of which were sexual. He had not told her he loved her or that he wanted a future with her. He enjoyed being around her, kissing her, and maybe there might be other things in the future.

But he had never lied to her.

“That’s right, little girl,” Carly taunted. “While you were patching him like a sad, pathetic Florence Nightingale, he was telling me that he loved me! Do you know where he told me?”

That sliced through Elizabeth like a knife. In her studio, of course. That’s where Jason had been a month ago.

“If you don’t leave,” Jason said, stepping between Carly and Elizabeth, “then I’ll make a call to the Quartermaines. This is your last chance, Carly—”

“No, it was your last chance,” Carly snarled. “We were so close to everything we wanted, what we dreamed about, and you’re throwing it away for a child whose legs are glued shut—”

Elizabeth shoved past Jason and swung at Carly, the attack coming as such a surprise that the older woman fell backwards and hit the pew, then the ground. Elizabeth winced as pain laced through her fingers.

“Maybe if you kept your legs shut more often, you’d have less trouble,” Elizabeth retorted as Jason put an arm in front of her, staring at her with wide eyes. “Because last time I checked, you’re already married to someone else. If Jason wanted you, he’d be with you.”

Carly rose to her feet, wiping at her lip. “Oh, you have no idea what you just unleashed—I felt sorry for you!”

“I didn’t ask for your sympathy,” Elizabeth bit out. “But you’re going to need it when AJ finds out what you’ve done. Emily told me your prenup has an infidelity clause. You think the Quartermaine lawyers wouldn’t be interested in this little scene? He’ll drag you and up down that court room and you’ll walk out with absolutely nothing.” She smiled, but there was no humor in the expression. “Go ahead, Carly. I dare you.”

Carly hissed, then glared at Jason. “You’re going to be sorry,” she promised him. “This was your last chance.”

Then she stalked out of the church, the door slamming shut with a thud behind her.

Elizabeth’s hands curled into fists, facing away from everyone. She took a minute to get her breathing under control. To cool her expression. If Jason knew she was hurt or upset, he’d feel worse.

And he didn’t have a reason to feel that way. He hadn’t lied. Hadn’t made any promises. Elizabeth had known exactly what she was taking on.

She turned back to the trio, lifting her chin. “I think we need to sign some things before we go,” she told Jason. “So let’s get it over with.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason began but Sonny elbowed him.

“She’s right. Let’s get the certificate signed, then Alexis and I will get out of your hair,” he told Jason.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Every time Jason thought he had a handle on Elizabeth, she flipped and showed him something new. But maybe he needed to stop underestimating her, he thought as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, Sonny heading into his own penthouse.

Elizabeth went in first, removing the knit cap from her hair and tossing it on the desk. Then she unbuttoned her jacket, the diamond ring on her finger flashing as the stones hit the light.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, breaking the tense silence. “I don’t even know how she found out—”

“The city clerk’s office probably,” Elizabeth said absently, laying the bouquet of tulips next to her coat. “They probably saw your name on the paperwork and called Edward or something. He probably couldn’t wait to tell Carly.”

Jason flinched at the reminder that the entire world knew about his previous relationship with Carly, even his own estranged family. “About what Carly said—”

“I didn’t punch her because of what she said to you,” Elizabeth interrupted. “You can handle yourself. I’m just tired of her throwing my rape in my face like it’s something I did to myself. She has no right—”

“No, I know. And I’m sorry you had to hear it, but she deserved it.” Jason reached for her hand, the knuckles red. “You need to keep your thumb outside your fist,” he told her, running his fingers across her skin. “That’s why it hurt.”

“And she’s got a hard head,” Elizabeth muttered. “It’s fine.” She drew her hand back. “I’ll remember that if I have to punch someone else later.”

“Elizabeth—”

“You don’t need to explain anything,” she told him. “About what Carly said. I may not—” She hesitated. “I may not know the extent of your relationship before you were shot, but I’m not an idiot.”

“It wasn’t—” Jason grimaced. “I just want to explain—”

“But I don’t need it. You didn’t make me any promises that were broken by what she said, okay?” Elizabeth turned away from him, the fabric of her dress rustling and floating as she moved across the room towards the stairs.

“No, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t wrong. You may not need or want my explanation, but I do.”

Elizabeth sighed, stopping at the base of the stairs, a hand on the railing. “All right. Then go ahead.”

“It’s true what she said. I told her I loved her,” Jason told her, his stomach twisting as her face remained perfectly expressionless. She might be saying nothing now, but he’d remembered the church. The gasp, the pallor of her skin.

“I told her it didn’t matter anymore after what she’d done. But I should have told her the rest of it. That it didn’t matter if I thought I loved her, but that she’d never be the person I needed her to be. The person I thought she was,” Jason continued. “She can say she loves me over and over again but she’s never done anything but—” He paused because saying out loud was painful and humiliating but Elizabeth deserved it. “She’s never done anything but hurt me. And whatever I thought I felt for her—I was wrong. Because it’s not love. I should have known better.”

Elizabeth remained where she was, but her eyes had softened. “I’m sorry, Jason.”

“I’m not. If she hadn’t shown me who she really was underneath all the lies and broken promises, I might still think she loved me. That I loved her. I wouldn’t have seen you.”

Elizabeth’s hand tightened around the railing, the skin around her knuckles turning white. “What do you mean? You already knew me—”

“You and I both know things changed while I was staying with you,” he said softly. “That’s why I could walk away from whatever I thought was there with Carly. The night we met at Jake’s, do you remember what you asked me?”

“Do you know what nothing feels like,” she said, her voice scarcely audible. “And you said that’s where you live.”

“Until you,” he told her. “You dragged me back into living, Elizabeth. I told you. There are no words for what I feel for you. Love doesn’t seem like enough, but it’ll have to be.”