September 3, 2022

This entry is part 7 of 10 in the The Last Time


24
Everything is better

Nikolas approached the guest room he’d given Lucky when he’d finally managed to convince his brother to leave the hotel and return to Wyndemere. The door was slightly ajar, so Nikolas knocked gently, and pushed it open.

He found his brother stretched out on the bed, sitting up against the headboard. A bottle of tequila on the nightstand behind him, and papers strewn across the bed and his lap. From the shape of them, Nikolas knew they were legal documents.

“Hey.”

Lucky reached for the still half full glass, stared down at the clear liquid. “I’m not looking for pills,” he said, his voice only a bit slurred. His eyes were a little glassy and unfocused. “You don’t have to check on me.”

“You’re sitting alone, drinking and reading your divorce papers,” Nikolas said slowly. “I just wanted to—”

“I had them with me last night,” Lucky interrupted. He set the glass aside, then started to gather the papers back into a pile. “I was  going to rip them up after dinner because I thought—I was sure she’d want to stop the divorce from being finalized.” He met Nikolas’s gaze. “It’s a week away. Did you know? I didn’t contest it, and she didn’t ask for anything. It flew right through.”

“It’s not going to do any good to look at this—”

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this,” he murmured. “She didn’t want to get back together. I had to push for every moment she gave me. She didn’t even say we were getting back together—just that we’d have dinner. And I was ready to rip them up. Would she have let me, you think?”

“She might have,” Nikolas admitted. He pulled out a chair from the desk and sat. “Elizabeth has always loved you, Lucky. And no one wanted this. She stayed until that night. Until you put your hands on her.”

“It’s all a blur, you know. She was so angry at me—I don’t even think she knew I’d slept with Maxie again—” Lucky dragged a hand across his face. “But she’d found the pills. She was going to leave. I just wanted her to stop. I wanted everything to stop for a minute so I could think—and then she was on the ground—” He exhaled. “When we were together before, after I came back—the brainwashing, the Cassadines, all that crap I pulled with Jason—the wedding—Sarah—” He shook his head. “I used to ask myself why she was still with me, what I’d done to deserve someone who loved me the way she does—but it’s not love.”

“Lucky—”

“It’s not the kind of love either of us deserve,” Lucky said, ignoring Nikolas. “It’s obligation. She didn’t want me back on the pills. I got clean for the baby. Not for her. Not for Cameron. I got clean for the baby. What kind of a man does that make me?”

“A human one,” Nikolas offered. “Give yourself a break, Lucky. You’ve been through hell—”

“Were we really even in love last year?” Lucky murmured. “I thought we’d fallen for each other again. I thought we were happy, and planning a future. But I think maybe I was lonely. And maybe she was, too. And we drifted back towards each other.”

“Until you were injured, Lucky, you and Elizabeth were happy,” Nikolas told him. “Don’t let everything that’s come after ruin that memory. You were happy and you were in love—”

“I kept throwing Patrick in her face,” Lucky continued. “When she got arrested for that surgery on Sam, I was sure it was because of Patrick. Even last night, when I found out the baby isn’t mine, I accused her of sleeping with Patrick.” He looked at Nikolas. “I couldn’t face the truth. I see that now. Because it was always Jason. He saved her from Manny. I couldn’t do that. He saved her last night, too. I just made it worse—” He got to his feet, picked up the divorce papers and went over to the trash can. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t compete. I don’t want to. I’m not a kid, making promises in a church. I’m not who I was before the fire, and neither is she. The longer we keep looking for who we used to be, the more we’re going to hurt each other.”

He dumped the papers in the trash. “So I’m done. She can live her life, and I’ll figure out mine.”

25
And right before your eyes

Jason knocked lightly on the front door of Audrey Hardy’s home, going over what he wanted to say. He couldn’t just ask her to marry him again—she’d been upset when he’d asked that this morning, and Sonny was right. Just because Jason felt like his head was much clearer, he couldn’t expect Elizabeth to be on the same page.

So first, he had to explain why things were different. She couldn’t have known that earlier—he hadn’t until he’d returned to the penthouse and talked to Sam. He’d explain it to Elizabeth, and this time, she’d understand. He could commit to her and the baby—to Camreon, too. She just had to trust him.

The door opened, and Audrey Hardy stood there, her lips pinched in slight disapproval. She couldn’t have been thrilled with the news, Jason reminded himself. Lucky might have had a dru addiction, but he was still a cop.

And Jason was still Jason.

“Mrs. Hardy,” he said with a nod. “I got Elizabeth’s message that she was being discharged. I was hoping to talk to her.”

“She’s upstairs resting, but she was awake when I checked on her.” Audrey stepped back so he could enter, then closed the door after he had. “I’m supportive of this situation,” she continued, “because to be anything else would be foolish, considering what my granddaughter has been through in the last six months.” She raised her chin. “I understand that you intend to be in this baby’s life, and therefore, Elizabeth’s. That’s fine. Children should have their fathers, and I remember that you were quite good with Michael.”

Jason nodded, a bit cautious now. “I appreciate that—”

“But—” Audrey held up one finger. “I will be watching you. I should have done more when she left Lucky in September. When she told me about the drugs and the affair in August. I will not make that mistake again. The moment I feel you are not what Elizabeth needs, I will make that clear to her.”

“I understand,” Jason said. “I just want—I want what’s best for Elizabeth. And her children. Whatever that ends up being.”

“All right. Tell Elizabeth that Cameron is eating dinner, and then I’ll put him down for bed. I want her to rest.”

26
I’m aching

Elizabeth flipped through the channels, restless and irritable. She couldn’t focus on anything long enough to enjoy it — whether it was her mood or the quality of the television—

She heard footsteps down the hallway, and sat up, a bit bewildered. Those weren’t her grandmother’s—

“Jason,” she said, her eyes widening. “I didn’t—I wasn’t—I thought you might come by tomorrow.”

“I—I can go.” He stood in her doorway, a bit uncertain now. “If you’re tired—”

“No, it’s okay.” Elizabeth sat up and gestured for him to come in. He closed the door and came to sit in the chair by her desk. It felt so strange to have him in her bedroom, with the posters from high school of boy bands still on the wall. “Um, I feel bad about how things were left this morning. Emily—she came by.” He met her eyes. “I’m so sorry about Alan.”

Jason didn’t anything right away, and she worried that it was the wrong to say. He stared down at his hands, and she fidgeted, twisting her fingers in the comforter she sat on. “I don’t know if I get to be upset about it,” he said finally, his voice soft, almost impossible to hear.

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “What? Why?”

“He was my father, but I never let that matter.” Jason grimaced. “I pushed him away until he stopped trying—”

“Jason—I wasn’t around after your accident,” she said, “but I bet if you ask other people who were—Emily or Robin—you’d remember how hard it was for you. You told me that it felt like they never saw you. That they were always telling you how it was before, and being angry you didn’t live up to that.”

“Yeah, but—”

She slid to the end of the bed, until her legs were dangling off the foot and she was closer to him. “You get to feel upset about losing him, Jason. Because now it never gets to be different. You never get to change how it was. You get to mourn for the relationship you can’t have.” She reached for his hand, held it between both of hers. “He was your father, Jason. It was a complicated, messy, relationship. He hurt you by not accepting who you grew up to be, and you hurt him by not being the man he expected. Did you—did you get to talk to him? Emily said she did.”

“Yeah.” Jason stared down at their intertwined hands. “Yeah, I did. He told me he regretted giving up. That he always loved me.” He looked up and met her gaze. “I told him I loved him, and he said it was a lie, but he was smiling—” He stopped, looked away. Elizabeth reached for his face, turning back to with a gentle push of her fingers on his jaw. Tears glimmered his eyes.

“Was it a lie?” she asked him gently.

“No. I don’t—” Jason cleared his throat. “I don’t know. Maybe. There were times after the accident when we almost—when I could imagine it being different. Like it was with Emily or Lila. Or Monica. But he hated everything I did. He wanted to control me.”

“He wanted you to be safe,” Elizabeth corrected softy, and Jason nodded. “Parents do that, you know. We control our children, we create their worlds. And we do it for as long as they let us. I hope I’ll know when to let go, to let them make mistakes. He was afraid of losing you again. He couldn’t let go.”

“I want it to be different,” Jason told her. “For me. This baby. I want to be a father. I don’t want to miss anything, but—” He shook his head. “I had it planned,” he muttered. “What I was going to say.”

“And you think the best way to be a father is to be a full-time father,” Elizabeth said. “It’s why you keep offering to marry me—”

“No, I mean, yes, but not the way you mean it,” Jason said, with a shake of his head. “You told me I couldn’t ask because nothing had changed. But it’s changed now. I broke up with Sam.”

Her heart twisted. “Jason, you’ve had a really long day. Have you even slept yet?”

“A few hours, but—”

“Marriage is more than just sharing children. It should be, anyway,” she added. “I can’t marry you so that you can be with this baby all the time. That’s not fair to either of us. We deserve more, and I’m not settling for less. Not again.”

“But—”

“But,” she interrupted, “you and I can come up with something that makes us both happy. Being a good father isn’t just about showing up. It’s just the start. You’re showing up, Jason. We don’t have to have all the answers. Especially not today.”

He sighed. “You’re saying no again.”

“I’m stopping you before you ask the question. Because I already told you it’s off the table, and this time I want you to listen to me. You do not need to marry me to be in this child’s life. I promise you. I made a mistake keeping it from you, but that’s not going to happen. We’ll sign whatever paper you want, you’ll be on the birth certificate. I won’t keep this baby from you. You’re not going to miss anything.”

Jason nodded. “All right. If that’s what you want.”

No, but it was what she needed. What they both needed. “Thank you.”

“I’ll—I’ll get going.” He got to his feet. “Thanks. For…”

“I’m sorry you lost your father, Jason,” Elizabeth said, hoping that this time, he’d accept the condolences.

“Thank you. I’ll—I’ll call. Or you can—”

She got to her feet and hugged him tightly, but briefly, then kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

He nodded, then left, and she sat back on the bed, wondering if she’d made a mistake. If maybe she should have let him ask the question.

But if he had—if he’d looked at her one more time and asked her to marry him, she might not have been able to say no.

September 2, 2022

This entry is part 21 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 61 minutes.


PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“No, no, I told you. I’ll handle this myself. Yeah—I’ve been waiting for this.” Jordan hung up the phone and looked across the desk at Nathan West. “Get the surveillance report on Morgan and Corinthos for the last few days—” She got to her feet, tucking her gun in the holster at her back and clipping the badge to her belt. “That was Baker’s parole officer. He missed his appointment today and he hasn’t been to work since Thanksgiving.”

Nathan furrowed his brow. “I’ll pull the report, Commissioner, but if they saw a crime—”

“I never expected to catch them in the act.” Jordan jerked a shoulder and went towards the door. “All I have to do is put them in the area.”

Nathan pulled out his cell phone to make the call, but he wasn’t sure why Jordan was so confident—they’d need a whole lot more to put someone away than being in the area where a crime was committed.

Port Charles High School: Hallway

Joss pulled her algebra book from the shelf and tossed it in her bag. She slammed the locker shut, then jumped at the sight of Emma and Trina right next to it. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry—” Emma elbowed Trina. “Go ahead.”

“Um, about Thanksgiving—” Trina began.

“No, don’t bother. I’m not interested in another truce that’s only going to last until you get annoyed with me again.” Joss slung her bag over her shoulder. “We’ve been irritating each other since the sand box. You don’t like me, and I—” She paused. “Well, you don’t like me. We don’t have to keep pretending—”

“No, just wait—” Emma snagged Joss by the elbow. “I feel bad because we did totally call a truce, and Trina was just saying that we haven’t pulled any pranks since the hair dye—”

“Which you deserved—”

“Because I told Oscar Nero that crap about you—yeah, well, I only did that because of what you told him,” Joss reminded her, and Trina made a face.

“Wait, what did you say?” Emma frowned. “Treen?”

“I—” Trina hissed. “I told Oscar that Joss’s mom is, like, a crazy person. Like, certifiably insane. Um, that she’s done time in a mental institution. Which isn’t really a lie—”

“Trina—” Emma scowled. “That’s almost as bad as Thanksgiving—”

“I know I did a lot of things when we were kids—I said things,” Joss corrected, “that I didn’t know were hurtful. And you’re never really going to like me because of it, Trina. I get it. I’m not looking for you to like me. We’re not friends.”

“It’s been pointed out to me,” Trina said slowly, “that we’re not kids anymore and we shouldn’t be acting like it.”

“I’m not looking for us to be okay,” Joss said. “I just—I just want it to be civil. When Cam’s around. He’s my best friend. I don’t want to lose that.”

“And you shouldn’t. Cam was really pissed about last week. He was right. We were totally out of line, and I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” Trina offered.

“Okay.” Joss nodded. “Um, thanks, I guess.”  The warning bell rang. “I gotta go, or I’m gonna get detention again.” She headed to class, but felt a bit lighter. Maybe things were going to be okay.

Baker House: Living Room

Jordan knew as soon as they got inside the house—the smell of sewage permeated the small, one-story house.

“Call for CSU,” Jordan told one of the officers, then nodded to Nathan. “Let’s go.” She headed towards the smell, across the living room, and down the short hallway—the bedroom door had been left open—

They could see Tom Baker sprawled on his back, simply laying as if he were asleep. Nathan approached the bed, coming around Jordan. He tapped the exposed foot—and it moved. “Body’s out of rigor,” he told Jordan.

“Looking at least twenty-four hours—” Jordan clicked on her flashlight, moved it around the room. “And judging by the smell and the missed shift on Thursday evening—” Her light stopped on the wall opposite of the bed. Her flashlight illuminated several photos pinned up. “What are those—”

Nathan went to take a closer look, his jaw clenching. “That’s Maxie’s little cousin, Emma. And Carly’s kid, Joss. Hell, that’s Morgan’s wife.”  He turned back to Jordan. “And there’s another girl I’ve seen around Emma—”

“Trina,” Jordan murmured. Marcus’s little girl. Pinned up on the wall of a man suspected of rape. She exhaled slowly. “He’s got pictures of teenaged girls—”

“And one adult woman.” Nathan stepped even closer. “Shit, Commissioner, he was stalking them—” He turned back to Baker. “No signs of foul play—if Morgan did this, why did he leave the photos up?”

“To make sure we knew what he was,” Jordan murmured. Her stomach twisted. Oh, God. Had Tom Baker hunted girls connected to Elizabeth and Marcus? “I don’t care what it looks like. We treat it like a murder until the autopsy comes back.”

She looked back at the body. “We work it until we know the truth, Nathan. We don’t pick the victim—”

“No, but he sure hell did,” Nathan retorted.

“Detective—’

“Yeah, I got the message. We don’t pick the victim. We just find the answers.”

Greystone: Living Room

Sonny closed the double doors  behind Jason and turned to his partner, his face somber and pale. “I got a call from the PCPD—”

“What’s wrong? You look like—” Jason stilled. “Is it one of the kids? Morgan—”

“No. No. Nothing like that—” Sonny shook his head. “Baker’s dead.”

“Baker—” Jason stared at him. “I don’t—what are you talking about?”

“Parole called in a welfare check after a missed appointment. Baker hasn’t shown for work since Thursday evening. Thanksgiving,” Sonny clarified. “They found him in his house.”

“What happened?” Jason’s chest tightened, and he thought of the strange conversation with Robin—

“No signs of foul play,” Sonny said. “So it might be natural, but she’s gonna look at us hard.” He smiled faintly. “Aren’t we lucky we’ve got a good alibi for the entire day? Jordan can ask a couple of former cops, WSB agents, and commissioners about us.”

“Yeah,” Jason said slowly. “Lucky for us.”

“I thought you might want to tell Elizabeth yourself. I didn’t think she should hear it through the grapevine.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll make sure to get to her.” Jason left then, and pulled out his phone as he left the house. But it wasn’t Elizabeth he called—

He had a feeling she wouldn’t be surprised.

“Jason?”

“Robin. Where are you?”

“At home. Why?”

“Stay there. I’ll be right there.”

Scorpio-Drake House: Living Room

Robin hadn’t seen Jason this unsettled in a long time, but as her ex-boyfriend paced the room, she started to get worried. “Jason—”

“Thanksgiving. Who’s idea was it this year?” he wanted to know. He stopped, looked at her. “I mean, Elizabeth and I usually go to Sonny’s. You’ve never invited Sonny here. ”

“No, I guess—” Robin tipped her head. “It was Patrick’s, I think. He said it would be funny to have Sonny here with my dad and Uncle Mac, and I figured why not—Jason, what’s going on?”

“Tom Baker is dead,” he said flatly. “I don’t have the details yet, but apparently it was some time on Thanksgiving. The PCPD has had me and Sonny under surveillance since Baker was paroled—”

“Wait a second—” Robin put up her hands. “What are you saying—”

“Elizabeth and Patrick arranged for Sonny and I have to alibis. She knew Jordan had pulled people from Baker—that they were still watching us—we just talked about it. And they were late—”

“I—” Robin shook her head. “It’s a coincidence, okay? How was he killed?”

“No signs of foul play,” Jason said. Instead of reassuring her, the news sent a shiver down her spine, and she closed her eyes. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“Jason, are you telling me you think your wife murdered Tom Baker and that my husband helped? Do you hear yourself? Elizabeth is pregnant—”

“She was bleeding out from a stab wound to the gut in the middle of the woods on that damn island, and managed to get to my gun and blow out Stavros Cassadine’s brains,” Jason said, and she closed her mouth. “And your husband operated on her in the middle of a flat with a first aid kit. He’s done brain surgery by flashlight. I know who my wife is and what she’s capable of—”

“If she’s under threat,” Robin reminded him. “What’s the threat? Baker’s been out for months! Do you really think she’s been waiting all along—”

“No. But something happened—it had to.” Jason scrubbed a hand down his face. “You knew they were lying, Robin.”

“Yes, but—” Her voice faltered. “Jason. What exactly are we talking about here? I mean, if it’s true—” She folded her arms. “What are we supposed to do?”

“I’m going to make sure it goes away,” Jason told her, and she bit her lip, nodded. “So far you and I are the only ones that know anything was a little weird that day. I think we were the only ones who noticed they were late.”

“Right. And we couldn’t testify against them even if we wanted to.” Robin bit her lip. “Do we ask them about it?” Did she really want to know?

“They lied to us last week, so I don’t think they’re planning to bring us in—” Jason grimaced. “I need to know what happened so I can make sure they’re safe. You can—you can do whatever you need to. I just—we need to be on the same page. If anyone asks about Thanksgiving—”

“Nothing happened,” Robin said softly. “Except some teenage drama. It was a great day.”

“Good. Thank you—”

“No, thank you for—I don’t know. For whatever you’re going to do. I don’t need to know about it, but thank you.”

Morgan House: Driveway

Elizabeth locked her car, frowning at Jason’s SUV parked at the curb. He was usually at the warehouse for a few more hours—

Then she saw the door open across the street, and Jason step outside — say something to Robin before turning towards their house. Their eyes met, and her insides tightened. He knew something. Even from this distance—

And then a car turned around the curve and slid into the space behind Jason’s SUV. Jordan stepped out, followed by Nathan.

Baker had been found.

“Well, this is good timing,” Jordan called as she came up th front walk, a manila folder tucked under her arm. Jason was crossing the street. “I was hoping to talk to both of you.”

“What’s going on?” Elizabeth tightened her hand around the strap of her purse. “Nothing happened to the kids, did it—”

“No, no. Hello, Mr. Morgan,” Jordan said coolly. “Have a few minutes for some questions?”

“Do I need to call Diane?” Jason wanted to know, already bored with the conversation. He stepped up next to Elizabeth. To Jordan, he would appear to be stone-faced, but Elizabeth knew her husband—she could feel tension and tightness radiating—

“Well, why don’t you listen to my questions and you can make that decision?” Jordan offered. She opened the folder, and Elizabeth’s stomach twisted. “Tom Baker. Died sometime Thursday — preliminary autopsy says maybe the afternoon. No cause of death just yet, but I thought we’d find out where some interested parties were—”

“So you came right over to the house of the woman he raped as a teenager,” Elizabeth said. She folded her arms, took a deep a breath.

“He was never convicted of that crime,” Jordan retorted. “So can I get an alibi or—”

“Thanksgiving,” Jason said. “You can ask about twenty people,” he told her. “Give or take. Robin and Patrick invited us over. So my sons saw me all day. So did my mother-in-law. Robin’s uncle and dad. Her mother—”

Jordan’s mouth tightened. “You were with Mac and Robert Scorpio—and Laura Spencer and Anna Devane.”

“So was Sonny. He deep fried a turkey. There were a lot of kids there, too. You can ask them.  Elizabeth had work until about noon—but she saw me all afternoon.” Jason lifted his brows. “Any other questions?”

“Just one.” Jordan flipped to another photo — Baker’s wall. “Did you know he was talking your wife and teenage girls close to her?”

Jason stared at the photo, the muscles in his cheeks twitching as Elizabeth digested the horror of what Jordan was asking—

“Wait, wait—” Elizabeth reached for the photo, finding it no trouble to find the horror and disgust she’d lived with for days. Weeks. “This is me—that’s my girls—Jason—” Her voice broke. “He was watching all of them?”

Jordan hesitated. “I—”

“How could this happen? How could someone on parole take all these—” Elizabeth shoved the photo away. “How could no one have seen him do it?”

Jason put a hand at her waist, and she closed her mouth, still shaking. Because her fury was real. How could Jordan have not known?  “We’re done here. You have my alibi. Any thing else, call Diane.”

August 31, 2022

This entry is part 6 of 10 in the The Last Time

Written in 50 minutes.


21
And all the times I let you in

“Hello, darling.” Her grandmother poked her head around the edge of the door. “Do you have the energy for a surprise visitor?”

Elizabeth sat up, already smiling because she knew who her visitor was—and sure enough, a little bundle of energy zoomed past his great-grandmother towards the bed. “Mommy!” Cameron cried. “Mommy! Miss you!”

Audrey came in behind him, closing the door. Then she lifted Cameron to sit on the bed. “Careful, my love,” she cautioned the toddler. “Mommy’s still a little tired and needs a gentle hug.”

“Hi, Mommy.” Cameron dropped to his knees and crawled towards her, wedging himself in between her side and the railing. “You almost better?”

“Almost.” She kissed the top of his curls, lingering for just a moment. She’d worried so in the elevator, in the hotel, that she might never get to hold him again. That he would grow up without her. But she had another chance.

And she would make it a better one.

“Thank you, Gram. I really—” She took a deep breath. “I really needed to see him.”

“He really needed it, too. We both did.” Audrey squeezed her hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired, mostly. Kelly says I’m okay. She’s going to discharge me in about an hour.” Elizabeth paused. “I—I can’t go back to the apartment. Lucky and I—”

“I’d heard,” Audrey murmured, and Elizabeth dipped her eyes away, focusing on the thin hospital blanket. “News travels fast when it begins in the emergency room at the top of someone else’s lungs.” Her grandmother tilted her head. “You’ll come home with me, then. You still have things from when you came last fall.”

“Thanks, Gram. I appreciate it. Um, there’s just—” She cleared her throat. “Jason—He’s going to be a part of things—”

“I’d hope so if he’s the father of this child. Are you asking me if he has permission to come in?”

“Yes.”

“Of course. It might not be what I wanted for you, but I have no intention of making anything more difficult for you.” Audrey smiled at her. “Now, tell me what else Kelly has to say about the baby.”

22
Just for you to go again

Jason stepped inside the office of the coffee house, remembering that nearly twenty-four hours earlier, he and Spinelli had planned how to infiltrate the hotel and end the siege.

It felt like another lifetime now.

Behind the desk, Sonny lurched to his feet. “Jason. Hey. Hey. I wanted to—” He came around the desk. “I wanted to call. To come by. I just didn’t know—” He paused. “I heard about Alan. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Jason said, though it still didn’t feel right to accept condolences for a man he’d never let be his father. How could you let people feel sorry for a loss that wasn’t yours? He had no right— “I just—I came to tell you I’m not at the penthouse.”

Sonny furrowed his brow. “What? What happened—”

“I—” Jason searched for the words and settled on the simplest recap of the last day of his life. “Elizabeth’s baby is mine. I’m going to be a father.”

Sonny stared at him for a long moment. “But she said—”

“Did she?” Jason asked. He wiped the back of his mouth. He’d spent hours wracking his brain—and she’d never said those words. She’d never told him or clearly anyone else that the baby was Lucky’s. It didn’t make it right that she’d kept the truth from him—but also it didn’t make any of it wrong. “She never told you, did she?”

“No,” Sonny said slowly. “Now that I think about it — she said it was who she expected. I assumed—”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry—but she should have corrected me—”

“Before or after you told her it would have made things harder for me?” Jason wanted to know, and Sonny closed his mouth. “I’m not innocent, either. And that’s not what I came here to tell you.” He didn’t want to think about all the ways he’d failed Elizabeth or how she’d not told the truth — it no longer matter. That was yesterday.

Today was important. Tomorrow was the focus. He wouldn’t have regrets.

“I don’t understand what that has to do with Sam or the penthouse—”  Sonny put a hand on Jason’s forearm. “Don’t you think you should maybe slow down a little? You just lost your father—”

“It’s because I lost him it has to be this way. Alan—he told me—” Jason fisted his hand at his side. “He told me his regret was giving up. Not fighting to be my father. And now it’s mine, too. I didn’t give him a chance. Not a real one. I don’t want that with my child. This baby — I can’t be the father this baby deserves if I don’t make changes.”

“Okay,” Sonny said slowly. “But I still—”

“I’m at Jake’s right now,” Jason told him. “I just thought you should know. If you needed me.”

“Jason, just wait a minute, okay—” Sonny caught his arm as Jason turned to go. “You and Sam have been through a lot this last year. You can co-parent with Elizabeth and not give up what you have with Sam—people do it all the time—”

“I—” Jason nodded. “I know. It’s not just about the baby. I don’t—” How did he put it into his words? “I think Sam and I have been over for a while,” he said finally. “Or maybe we never really got back together. Not in the way that mattered. You and Carly. You almost got back together right before you got divorced for good. You know what I mean. You were together, but it wasn’t right.”

“Okay. Yes, but—”

“And I know you think you’re still going to be together now,” Jason continued, “but Carly doesn’t want it. So it won’t work. I didn’t know I was done until I asked Elizabeth to marry me, and she asked me about Sam. I hadn’t even thought about her.”

“You asked—” Sonny scrubbed a hand down his face. “Okay. Let’s back up for a second. You got engaged to Elizabeth before you broke up with Sam, and then Alan passed away—I think you need—”

“She said no,” Jason said bluntly, and Sonny closed his mouth. “And she was right. It was the same as the last time I asked her—”

“The last time—”

“The last time, she wanted to know about Sam, and I didn’t know what to say. Because I didn’t think of her.”

“How many times exactly did you propose—”

“Does that matter?” Jason asked, impatiently.

“Apparently not. Jason—” Sonny shook his head. “Okay. I get it. You and Sam are done. But—”

“She told me nothing had changed. But it has now,” Jason said. “Sam and I—I felt guilty that about Elizabeth. About wishing—” He closed his mouth. It was clear to him now in a way it hadn’t been this morning. He’d never really wanted to get back together with Sam, but she’d been there and Elizabeth wasn’t. And he’d stayed with Sam because he felt guilty for wishing she was someone else. For wishing that he was the father of Elizabeth’s baby.

And now his wish had become a reality.

“Jason, just because you’ve had some sort of epiphany about your life and what you want from it, it does not mean everyone else has. Elizabeth said no last night, didn’t she?”

“And this morning—”

“You proposed again—” Sonny shook his head. “Never mind. Can I just give you a little advice? Just one piece,” he said when Jason looked at him. “Take your time. Everyone has been through a lot, including Elizabeth. She might not be ready to take the same leap you are. Don’t take it too hard if you try to propose again now that you’ve broken up with Sam, and she turns you down, okay?”

“I won’t.” He started for the door.

“You won’t propose, or you won’t take rejection too hard?” Sonny called after him, but Jason was already gone.

23
Disappear when you come back

“It’s good to see you on your feet.”

Elizabeth grinned as she saw Patrick leaning against the door frame. She tucked the remnants of her purple dress in her tote bag. “Hey. I was hoping to see you before I left. How’s Robin?”

“Good, good.” He crossed the room to hug her briefly. “In recovery. We got lucky. I guess if they’re springing you, you and the baby are good?”

“Kelly’s asking for some light bed rest for a few weeks, but me and baby have a clean bill of health—” Elizabeth touched her belly. “I’ll be off the schedule for a bit.”

“Yeah.” Patrick rubbed the back of his neck. “So, I heard a rumor from the emergency room—”

“Oh, God, everyone really does know.” Elizabeth sank back onto the bed. “I guess I should be relieved it’s less people I have to tell.”

“There you go.” He sat next to her. “You doing okay with all of this?”

“I guess. I haven’t seen Lucky since last night. I feel terrible for how he found out, but I’m a little relieved. Except for—” Elizabeth shook her head. “Jason asked me to marry him. Twice.” Four times if she counted the times he’d asked last fall.

“And I’m guessing that you said no.”

“Of course I said no. He’s only asking because Alan passed away. We talked about him in the elevator last night, and I know Jason has regrets for how everything happened—” Elizabeth got back to her feet. “What if I said yes, and he resented me later for taking advantage of him—”

“I don’t know a lot of people who take advantage of Jason Morgan—”

“That’s because you don’t know him,” Elizabeth shot back. Patrick put up his hands in protest and she sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just—Jason’s too generous with himself. He’s always worried about other people. Taking care of them. Sonny and Carly, for one. And now he’s decided I’m one of those people—”

“In your defense, you should be one of those people. You’re literally carrying his kid. He wants to be part of it, Elizabeth. It’s not a terrible thing—”

“It wouldn’t work—” She stared down at the bed. “Marriage should be more than that. I’ve had two husbands, Patrick. I can’t let the third one marry me out of guilt and obligation. I won’t do that to myself. Or him.”

“Then don’t marry him.” Patrick waited. “Unless you want to.”

Of course she wanted to. But— “I can’t. Let’s just leave it at that.”

August 30, 2022

This entry is part 20 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 57 minutes.


Scorpio-Drake House: Living Room

Patrick hung up his coat and turned to Robin with a grin. “So, I hear Carly made a run for it. You get all the good karma and none of the blame. It’s a good day.”

“Very funny.” She frowned when a pack of Starbursts fell from his coat pocket. He stared at it for a long moment, then scooped it up. He ripped off the top and popped a pink one in his mouth. “I thought they were out of those. That’s what Jason said.”

“Elizabeth spent forever in the candy aisle trying to find the big bag—” He wagged the little package.”I got the last one up at the register. Don’t tell her, though. There wouldn’t have been enough.”

Robin furrowed her brow and he returned her gaze with a bland expression. Be cool, he reminded himself. You’ve got nothing to hide. You were once a master of saying nothing to women and getting away with it.

“Stealing candy from a pregnant woman.” Robin shook her head, then held out her hand. “I’m gonna need a penalty.”

“She finds out, I’m coming for you,” he warned, dropping a yellow in her palm.

In the kitchen, Elizabeth twisted the cap off the jar of pickles and poured some of the juice into a glass tumbler. Then she set it aside and dug back in the white the plastic bag for a bag of gummies.

Crowded around the kitchen island were a crowd of men who were appalled when she dropped several pieces into the glass. “I know pregnancy cravings are bad,” Sonny said, slowly, “and listen, Carly and her pickled turnips—it violated some laws. But that is disgusting.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips, glared at him, then looked at Mac and Robert. “You have an opinion to offer?”

“Nope,” Mac said. “I learned from Felicia not to argue. Or judge.” He winced as she plucked one out and ate it. “It’s a choice.”

“I’m taking my appetizer somewhere where I’ll be appreciated.” She picked up the glass and went to the dining room where Anna and Felicia were laughing about something.

“They bring new life into the word,” Robert said solemnly. “It is not for us to understand or question. But merely to support.”

After leaving Patrick the kitchen, Robin went outside to find Jason checking the deep fryer. “Hey. I have a question for you.”

“No, I can’t explain what Elizabeth’s eating. Don’t ask me to try.” He’d buy her whatever she craved, but even his stomach had rolled when he passed through the dining room and watched her eat the pickle juice soaked candy.

“Oh. No. Not that. She said they went to a drug store right?” Robin asked. “That’s why they were late?”

Jason frowned, looked at Robin more closely. “Why?”

She pulled out a crumpled receipt. “This was in Patrick’s pocket. They bought the candy ten minutes ago.”

“She said—” Jason took the receipt, studied it. A bag of gummy bears, a jar of pickles—and Starbursts. “I thought they were out of these.”

“Patrick said he grabbed the last package, and not to tell her. But it’s all on the same receipt —and it’s not one of our cards.”

“No, it’s Elizabeth’s—” He looked at Robin. “Why did you check his pocket?”

“I don’t know. He just seemed weird. And trying to hard not to be.” Robin bit her lip. “It’s strange, isn’t it? I don’t think they were at the drug store the whole time.”

“What do you think was going on?” Jason handed the receipt back. “There’s no reason for them to lie—”

“It makes sense. Elizabeth got a craving at work, and Patrick tagged along. But then he takes the candy she specifically told you she was looking for. And you said she ate it with Jake. But Emily used to tease her about the gummy bears in pickle juice.”

He couldn’t answer that. He hadn’t been there. He didn’t know what she’d craved. “Robin—”

“I think she panicked when you called. And she said the wrong thing.” Robin looked at the receipt. “I don’t know why, but I think they’re lying.”

“To hide what?” Jason demanded. “I trust Elizabeth—”

“And I trust my husband. They would be the last people to have an affair. But that doesn’t mean they can’t be hiding another secret.”

“I think,” Jason said after a long moment, “that you’re overthinking this. Elizabeth probably misspoke on the phone—”

“So Patrick lied to me about it, not wanting me to tell her he had them? Jason—”

“You two look serious,” Sonny said, sliding open the door. “We’re not fighting again, are we?”

“No.” Robin forced a smile. “No. We’re not. How’s the turkey? It hasn’t exploded yet, so that’s a good sign.”

Morgan House: Master Bedroom

He’d brushed Robin’s concerns off and had actually managed to forget them entirely as they finished cooking dinner and sat down to eat early. Sonny’s deep fried turkey had turned out better than anyone had expected, but most of the food had disappeared by the time people started heading home.

They brought the boys home, but there was no bedtime. It was a holiday which meant all three boys would be up until dawn playing video games in the living room.

Elizabeth poured mouth wash into a cap and swished it around her mouth. After spitting it into the sink, she smiled at Jason who was already stretched out in bed, one of his travel books in his hands. “There. Pickle juice gone.”

“I wasn’t going to ask—” And then Jason remembered the strange conversation with Robin, and the receipt. “You know, Patrick got the last pack of Starbursts and didn’t tell you,” he said.

She flicked off the light, and crawled across him to her side of the bed. She flashed him a confused smile. “I bought them for him—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “Oh. I wasn’t thinking when I talked to you earlier. He was trying to convince me the Starbursts would taste better, and I guess I just—” She shrugged and picked up the remote from her nightstand. “I got mixed up.”

“Oh.” He fell silent, looked back at the page in his book, but his attention was unfocused. She hadn’t sounded confused on the phone, and Robin had seemed pretty clear about Patrick’s words.

But what was the alternative? To believe she was lying to him? Elizabeth never lied to him.

Elizabeth leaned back against the pillows, and he let it go, letting her relax and watch one of her shows, and he went back to his book again. Trying to focus.

“I felt the baby today,” Elizabeth said, and that got his attention. Jason set the book side. “Not like—kicking. Obviously—” She took his hand, rested it against the gentle curve. There was nothing yet, and he was a bit disappointed. “It was just a flutter really. But it’ll be soon.” She sighed happily. “And I think maybe I might be further along than I thought,” she continued. “Because I’m bigger now than I was with any of the boys at four months.”

“We can find out next week,” he told her. He leaned over, kissed her. “Mmm, no pickle juice at all.”

“I told you I’d take care of it.” She wound her arms around his neck and drew him over her. And he stopped thinking about Starbursts and receipts altogether.

General Hospital: Nurse’s Station

“You know what I think is actually going to kill me?” Patrick asked Elizabeth the next morning as he stepped up inside the hub and reached for a chart. “The fact that we thought of everything except the cover story.”

“I panicked,” Elizabeth muttered. “I swear to God if this falls apart because I said Starbursts instead of gummy bears, I’ll deserve the prison sentence.” She clicked away at the keyboard, irritated with herself. “I distracted Jason, I think. What about you?”

“Maybe. It’s hard to tell with Robin. She’s sneaky.” Patrick leaned against the counter. “Uh, how you feeling this morning? I mean, we’re good, right?”

“Do you mean did I wake up feeling guilty?” she murmured, keeping her voice low but resisting the urge to whisper. Low conversations about patients were normal. Hushed whispers were suspicious. “No. You?”

“You’d think.” Patrick shrugged. “I’m off to my rounds.”

He disappeared down the hallway, then Laura stepped off an elevator a few minutes later, her brow furrowed.

“Hey. You okay?” Elizabeth asked. “You look upset.”

“Not upset. Concerned.” Laura leaned across the counter. “And I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Oh, damn it. Had they already found Baker? They should be fine, Elizabeth told herself. It was twenty hours. She’d wanted forty-eight, but—

“There’s a possibility Tom Baker has jumped parole,” Laura cautioned her. “He didn’t report for work this morning.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth tightened her fingers around her pen. “How—Maybe he’s sick.”

“Maybe. I spoke to his supervisor to see what we should do.” Laura said. “He has to miss an appointment with his parole officer.  and that’s not until Monday. Unless you want me to—if he violates parole—”

What would look less guilty, Elizabeth wondered? Encouraging Laura to push for contacting the parole officer and finding Baker’s body sooner? Or holding off to give the body a chance to sit longer, making cause of death harder to determine?

How would she have answered if she didn’t know exactly where Tom Baker was?

“I’d feel so silly if I asked you to push and he’s just at home with the flu or something. I mean, he lives alone, right? Maybe he’s just too sick to call out. You call his parole officer, and he finds him at home, I’ll just—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “I don’t want to live my life in fear. And I don’t want to think about Tom Baker. No special favors. If he violates on his own terms, that’s his problem.”

“All right. You let me know if you change your mind.” Laura patted her hand and walked away, leaving Elizabeth unsure if she’d made the right decision. Too late now, she thought, and went back to work.

August 29, 2022

This entry is part 10 of 22 in the Flash Fiction: Invisible Strings

Written in 55 minutes. You should know that nothing about this part was in my outline, but then Cameron asked to go swimming and you all said wow that will be fun to read, so you only have yourselves to blame.


Elizabeth wasn’t sure why, but she nearly expected Jason to forget about the day he’d promised them that week, or to make excuses.

Or perhaps she had told herself to expect the worst so that she would be ready to console her son.

But on Thursday morning, when the rooster crowed and jarred Elizabeth from sleep, Jason didn’t stir from their bed. He drew her more snugly against his body, his breath warm on her neck. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured. “We don’t need to be up for a few more hours.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Cameron might have different ideas.”

His lips brushed her neck, and she sighed. “Well, the door is closed,” she murmured. She twisted in his embrace, the streaks of dawn lighting the room. Elizabeth threaded her fingers in his dark blonde hair, brushing it away from his face. “You’re really taking the entire day?”

“I told you I would.” He kissed her fingertips. “I always keep my promises.” He hesitated, his eyes searching hers. “Do you think I’d change my mind even when Cameron hasn’t talked about anything else all week?”

“No. Of course not.” She forced a smile, a bit embarrassed. “I thought maybe you’d just come home early.”

“I said I’d take the day. I want to,” he said. “And you’re coming with us. You should learn to swim, too.”

“Oh.” She widened her eyes. “I hardly think—”

“We live on the water. The lake isn’t so deep out here, not like the Grand,” he said. “This is little more than a watering hole.”

No, and Grand Lake wasn’t even nearly as large as Lake Ontario had been at home, but she’d still gone her entire life without stepping foot into the water. “Yes, but—”

“I can’t always be here. I want to be sure you’ll be safe. And that Cameron will be safe.” And with that, she was convinced. Once Cameron got his feet in the water, she knew it would be difficult to keep him out of it. She’d need to be able to fetch him if necessary.

“All right, but I draw the line at fishing.” She wrinkled her nose. “I won’t be touching those worms.”

“Deal.” He brushed his thumb across her lips, dipped his head to kiss her again. “Any suggestions for what to do until breakfast?”

“Just a few.”

Despite his excitement, Cameron slept like the dead and had to be roused from his bed nearly two hours later. Fortunately, as soon as he opened his eyes and saw Jason next to his mother, he leapt from the bed, his rag dog falling to the ground. “Fishing!” He pumped both fists in the air. “I get to touch worms!”

“Great, you can help your mother bait her hook.”

Elizabeth scowled. “We had a deal—”

“You said you wouldn’t touch worms,” Jason reminded her. “Cam, you’ll do it for her, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mama.” Cameron looked at her somberly. “I will touch the worms for you. It will be fun.”

She shuddered, stooping to pick up the rag dog. “Make your bed, Cam, and make sure that Archie doesn’t get lost.”

“Archie?” Jason inquired.

“My dog.” Cameron showed him. “Mama made it for me. We couldn’t have a doggy at home. Too many stairs. So I got Archie.” He hugged it to his chest, set it on the table next to his bed, then reached for his blanket, struggling to pull it over the bed. Elizabeth helped, straightening the edges he couldn’t manage.

Jason picked up Archie, examining it for a long moment before handing it to Cameron. “Did you want a dog?”

Elizabeth froze in the act of fluffing Cameron’s pillow, then looked at her new husband. He couldn’t mean—”

Cameron’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “I can have a dog? For me?”

“Why not?” Jason said as if he were offering a peppermint sweet. “I’ll ask around and see if anyone has a litter or is expecting one. We might not get one right away, but we can make—” He closed his mouth as Cameron launched himself at Jason, wrapping his arms around his legs. “That’s a yes, huh?”

“I will take the bestest care of my dog, promise. I’ll be good, and the puppy will be good and it will be the best dog ever, and I will be the best kid—”

“You’re already pretty great,”  Jason said, ruffling his hair. He stooped down in front of Cameron. “And I’ll help you take care of him. But it might not be right away,” he repeated. “Is that okay?”

“I will wait forever,” Cameron said nodding fervently. “As long as it takes. Mama, is it my birthday? Is there a sweet for me?”

“No, dear.” Elizabeth laughed. “We had your birthday in New York. Remember?”

“So I swim and fish and get a dog, and it’s not my birthday?” Cameron asked. His blue eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, though she understood why he needed to ask again. There had been so few treats for him in his four short years — every scrap of joy and extra cent had gone to giving him a little bit of happiness when she could. In just one day, Jason had made all her son’s come true—and it was just an ordinary Thursday.

It was difficult to wrap her mind around how quickly their lives had turned, how lovely it was now—and she was an adult.

“Time to get dressed,” Jason said. “And breakfast. You need to eat before we go fishing.”

“Oh, don’t—” Elizabeth made face, pressing her hand to her abdomen. “I feel sick just thinking about the worms.”

Before Jason would take them out in the little wooden boat to start fishing, he wanted to teach them how to swim—or at least how to float.

“Swimming will take longer,” he’d told Elizabeth as they walked about halfway down the short pier that stretched out of the lake on his ranch. “Floating is the first step.”  He sat on the edge and pulled off his boots. “First things first, we need to take off some of these clothes.”

Elizabeth’s face flushed and she crossed her arms over her shirtwaist. “I beg your pardon.”

“Floating,” Jason said, grinning up at her with such a wicked tilt to his mouth she nearly lost her breath. “Those skirts weigh quite a bit.”

“Yes, Mama—” Cameron chucked his shirt and fought with his laces. “You said to do whatever the papa says.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, then nodded. “All right.” She eyed the ranch house and the barn beyond it. Jason followed her gaze.

“I’ve given everyone the day off,” he assured her, and she looked back at him. “I knew you didn’t have anything dark enough to swim in.” He got to his feet, reaching for the buttons on her shirt-waist. “It’s just us today,” he said, unsnapping the pearl-shaped button. It felt quite indecent for his hands to be on her buttons in broad daylight, with her son just nearby, but Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to stop him.

He tugged the edges of the shirtwaist apart, untucking them from her skirt, revealing the thin chemise beneath. Jason hesitated, letting his hands fall to his side, his own breathing changing slightly. He stepped back, clearing his throat. “You can—you know how to do the rest. I mean you could have—”

“I can do it,” Elizabeth interrupted, tearing her gaze away. She carefully folded the shirtwaist, set it on the docks, then toed off her shoes and unfastened the skirt, breathing in a sigh of relief as the heavy fabric dropped away, and the cool summer breeze hit her skin.

“I’m ready!” Cameron declared, spreading his arms out at the side, completely unaware of the interplay between his mother and stepfather. Dressed only in his little white drawers—just like Jason, Elizabeth realized with a start. They were all nearly naked. Outside.

“Okay—” Jason slid off the pier into the water, and she was relieved — it only reached halfway his shins—which would be mid-chest for Cameron. He reached for Cameron. “You ready?”

Cameron hesitated, looked at his mother. “Mama first,” he said, nerves lacing his tone. “Mama.”

Elizabet sat on the edge of the pier just as Jason had, the thin white fabric of her pantalets fluttering in the wind. Once she was in the water, the water would cling, she knew. It seemed so strange to be casual about it — even though she and Jason had shared a bed for weeks, and made quite good use of it.

The bright sunshine made everything a bit different.

Jason held out her hand and she slid off the pier—the water coming up just past her knees with the height difference—She gasped as the cold splashed against her skin. “Oh—”

“Is it fun, Mama?” Cameron wanted to know. He sat on the edge, his legs dangling off. “Is it okay?”

“It’s—” Elizabeth dipped her fingers in the lake. “It’s lovely, Cam. Just what we need on a hot summer day.”

Cameron bit her lips, peered at the water, all of his bravado gone. Before Elizabeth could do anything, Jason scooped him off the pier, holding the little boy against his bare chest. “I’ve go you,” he promised. “Nothing will happen.”

“I want to swim,” Cameron said, but he sounded less sure now.

“Let’s do it little by little. You tell me when to stop.” Jason slowly lowered Cameron into the water feet first, and Cam giggled when his toes were submerged.

“It tickles—more!”

Jason kept lowering him until Cameron’s feet were firmly on the lake floor, and he was submerged to the mid-chest. “Mama! I’m in the water!”

“Yes, you are. Do you like it?”

Cameron splashed the water and it hit Elizabeth. He laughed, then did it again. “Is this swimming? Am I swimming?”

“Not yet. First, we float. We’ll teach your mother later,” he said. “We need to be in deeper water for that, but this is perfect for you.” He knelt in the water, and, bracing one arm around Cameron’s shoulder and the other underneath his arms, he gently dipped Cameron back until he was lying on his back. “The most important part of floating is using your muscles. You have to push with your legs to keep them straight. Do you feel it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s find out.” Jason took his arm away, but kept hold Cameron’s shoulders. Elizabeth’s  breath caught as Cameron sputtered and slipped under for just a moment, then Jason brought him back up into the floating position, his arms supporting him. “How did that feel?”

“Weird, but I think—” Cameron screwed his face up. “I think I get it. Do it again.”

“Oh—” Elizabeth bit her lip, crossed her arms. She had to trust Jason knew what he was doing.

Jason released Cameron’s legs again and this time—they stayed up. “Let go of me all the way,” Cam said.

Jason hesitated, then obeyed—and Cameron stayed up right, his small body floating for almost ten seconds before he lost control and dipped under, Jason scooped him up immediately, and Cameron was giggling, wiping the water from his face. “I did it! Papa, did you see! I did it!”

Papa. Not the papa, but Papa—Her throat tightened as Cameron wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck, clinging, a smile stretched from ear to ear.

“I saw,” Jason said, hugging him back. “You’re doing great!”

Cameron decided he didn’t want to go fishing until he could float longer, so Jason patiently kept getting him into position, then scooping when his little muscles couldn’t hold him. Over and over again.

Elizabeth perched back on the pier, content to watch them play in the water together. No one would ever guess that they shared no blood — Cameron looked more like Jason than he did her. He’d inherited the sunny blond hair from Elizabeth’s mother, but it might darken to Jason’s blond as Cameron grew older.

She sighed a bit wistfully—when Cameron had been born, she’d hoped he’d take her his father. A physical resemblance would be the only piece of Alex she’d ever be able to share with her son. But he’d always looked like her.

Cameron finally tired of the floating near noon, and climbed out of the lake with Jason’s help. “Did you see, Mama? I float.”

“You float very well.”

“You turn.” Cameron looked at Jason. “Papa, tell her.”

“Oh, but—”

Jason hoisted himself out, rivulets of water streaming down his chest, and—she looked away, her cheeks flushed. “We have to go out to the end of the pier for water deep enough,” he said, slicking back his hair. He held out a hand. “Come on.”

When they reached the end, Jason got back in the water, and looked at Cameron. “It’s too deep for you,” he said firmly. “Promise to sit right here.”

“Promise.” Cameron nodded. “Mama, I wanna see you float—”

“Here goes nothing,” Elizabeth said, slipping into the water, gasping as her entire body became submerged, nearly to her shoulder. “Oh, that is—” Water was everywhere, and it was so cold— “That is quite different.”

Jason grinned. “All right. Let’s see if you can float.” He braced an arm around her shoulders. “Kick up with your legs. Bring them to the surface.”

“All right—” Dubiously, Elizabeth followed his instructions—and then was pleasantly surprised as her legs broke out of the water, and she did feel…oddly weightless. “Oh…this is amazing.”

“Mama! You did it so fast!”

Jason stepped back, gently releasing her shoulders until Elizabeth was floating on her own. No wonder he’d suggested starting with floating. It could become her favorite way to spend the day. She closed her eyes, the warm sun beating down on her from above, the cold water seeming to hold her from below.

“A natural,” Jason said. She opened her eyes—then sputtered as she lost track of what she was doing, and her legs slipped back under water. He laughed and dragged her back up, holding her against his chest, the flimsy fabric of her chemise doing very little to act as a barrier. “You all right?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “I think I will like learning to swim.”

August 28, 2022

This entry is part 10 of 56 in the Flash Fiction: Watch Me Burn

Written in 59 minutes.


Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason thought it would be months before they’d be back in this place, before he felt like he could tell Elizabeth how he felt — he’d thought about it every day since she’d testified in court, since she’d looked at him and then back at Ric and told the truth.

He’d felt it growing between them for months, even as he tried to fix things with Sam and Elizabeth had married Lucky once again. After the kidnapping, when he’d  brought Jake home to her, and she’d held their son in her arms, and he’d picked Cameron up — he understood what she meant about wanting the dream.

Because for those few moments before Lucky came in and reclaimed his family, Jason had let himself want it, too.

And now, if he was careful not to push too hard or too fast, the dream could be theirs.

Jason slid his hands through her hair, the strands like silk. Her fingers twisted in his shirt, tugging him closer. How could he have let an entire year pass without holding her in his arms, the scent and taste of her seeping into his veins—He touched the hem of her shirt, his fingers brushing the skin underneath—

There was a click of a tumbler in the door behind them, the only warning they had before the door opened, and Spinelli stepped in. His head was down and he had headphones on—Jason and Elizabeth broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, her mouth still slightly open, her breathing shallow. He swallowed hard, then focused on his roommate.

Spinelli tugged off his headphones and grinned at them. “Hey. Fair Elizabeth, you’re still here. Awesome sauce. I was gonna suggest Stone Cold get pizza tonight. The Jackal had a burger at the diner, but I’m still hungry. You in? Little Dude probably loves it, right?”

“Um—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s napping, but—” She darted a look at Jason. “We don’t usually eat for another hour. Maybe two.”

“Stay,” Jason said gently. Forever would be fine, but he’d settle for dinner. “Cam can finish his nap, and Spinelli—pizza’s fine. We’ll just wait.”

“No worries, the Jackal can feast on cheese puffs and orange soda. Just let me know what the little dude likes.” Oblivious to the tension in the air, Spinelli went past them towards the sofa, winding the cord around his headphones. “I have a project to distract me.”

The monitor on the coffee table made a sound, and Elizabeth went to it, picking it up. “Oh, it’s Jake. Um, I should get him before he wakes up Cam. Cam’s really cranky when he doesn’t get at least an hour—”

She nearly flew up the stairs, and Jason wondered if maybe he’d already pushed too hard. He cleared his throat, looked at Spinelli. The tech had tugged out the omnipresent laptop, his brow already furrowed as he bent over the keys. “You’re not doing anything that’s going to get you arrested, are you?”

“Only if the Jackal gets caught—” Spinelli said absently. He scowled. “Why aren’t all cell phones registered? I should be able to track a blocked number.”

“Don’t get caught,” Jason muttered. The last thing he needed was to be accused of harboring a fugitive. He looked towards the stairs, argued with himself for a minute, then gave up and started for the second floor.

Morgan Penthouse: Nursery

Elizabeth had reached Jake before he’d really started to fuss, and Cameron remained blissfully unaware, sprawled out on his race car bed. Elizabeth scooped Jake out of the crib and cuddled him against her still racing heart.

What the hell had happened downstairs? How had they gone from arguing about being investigated to murder to—

Elizabeth kissed Jake’s soft, silky head, closing her eyes, gently swaying in the infant, trying to wrap her min around the reality. Jason loved her. He’d said the words, and he’d kissed her.

Or had she hallucinated that?

She heard the soft creak of footsteps outside the door and turned to see Jason in the doorway. They stared at each other for a long moment before he stepped inside the room, then he stopped and smiled. Not at her, but behind her.

At Cameron laying on his stomach in bed, his arms and legs spread out like he’d been dropped from a height. The thin top sheet she’d tucked around him earlier kicked off, half on the bed, half trailing on the floor.

“He sleeps just like he does everything else,” Jason murmured, stooping to toss the sheet back on the bed, but not covering Cam again. “Full throttle.”

“He’s always been a good sleeper,” Elizabeth said, wistfully. “Even when he was a baby. I feel like I hit the jackpot with him. All mothers should get such a sweet baby for their first. It makes it less scary.”

“Jake’s making up for that, I guess.” He crossed to her, stroked Jake’s back. The infant turned at the movement, slowly twisting his head to find his father, a smile spreading across his face. He cooed, and one of his arms reached for Jason.

Elizabeth handed him over without protest, some of the twisting tension fading. She’d made so many mistakes and forced Jason to lose months of being a father, but at least the damage wouldn’t be long-lasting. Jake already loved his father.

“We should talk,” Jason said, his voice little more than a whisper. He tipped his head towards the door. “Come on.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to, but she followed him anyway, closing the door behind her. Instead of going downstairs, Jason led her down the hallway into the master bedroom — where there was another white baby monitor. This one didn’t have the video like the downstairs one, but she was moved by the evidence of how invested Jason was in being with Jake. Not only did the bedroom have a monitor, but there was a playpen with stuffed animals and an activity blanket spread out nearby.

“I wish I could take credit,” Jason admitted. “I would have put things in here—” He looked at her. “We talked about overnight, and I wanted to be ready, but then—”

“Spinelli the Fairy Godfather struck again,” Elizabeth said. “He’s such a sweet kid, Jason. I’m so glad you have each other.”

“He’s definitely not what I expected,” Jason admitted. “I didn’t think he’d still be living here, but it’s just…”

“It feels right. And I’m glad he has a home. A place to belong.” She exhaled slowly. “He was kind when Jake was kidnapped. He came by a few times, offering to go over every detail with me. I thought you’d sent him.”

“No, I didn’t. But I would have if I thought it would help.” Jason hesitated. “I was going out of my mind stuck in jail.” He stroked Jake’s back again, then set the infant down on his back on the activity blanket, underneath the plastic arch with dangling toys. Jake immediately batted at them, his legs kicking. “I wanted Spinelli to help me get out.”

“Get—” Elizabeth frowned at him. “You mean escape? Jason.” She exhaled slowly. “I know you were just as scared as me, but I didn’t realize—” She bit her lip. “I guess I was freaking out enough for all of us.”

“You were getting enough from everyone else,” Jason reminded her. “The interrogations, the looks—” His mouth twisted. “Anyway. Spinelli talked me out of it. I’m glad. If I hadn’t waited for bail, I never would have been at the studio when Amelia talked to Maureen and heard crying.”

“Thank God for Spinelli.”

They stood in silence for a long moment, watching Jake as he played with his toys, then rocked back and forth, trying to roll over. He didn’t really have a lot of room, so he went back to playing.

Elizabeth sat down, her back to the edge of the bed and just wanted their son. Jason sat next to her, their shoulders brushing. He stretched out his legs.

“Downstairs—” Jason began then stopped, as if unsure where to go from there. Elizabeth looked at him and their eyes met. “I don’t want to push you. I know it’s been…there’s been a lot going on. And it’s not going to change in the next few months.”

“You never push me,” Elizabeth said. She leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. He lifted his arm, wrapped it around her to hold her closer. “Even when you should.” She didn’t say anything else, just soaked in the moment—this lovely, quiet moment of two parents watching their son. A piece of that fantasy she’d never dared to believe would become reality.

“I know we have to be careful, to take things slowly. I don’t want to do anything that will make the divorce or custody harder,” Jason said. “So whatever Diane says to do, that’s it. But I need you to know that I want the same thing. The dream you had—it’s mine, too.”

“I thought you didn’t dream,” Elizabeth said, tipping her head up, smiling so he knew it was a joke. But his eyes remained serious.

“I don’t. But I like to believe in yours,” he said, echoing the answer he’d given her all those years ago. “Being with you, being a family — it’s a good one. And I promise, if you’ll give me a chance, we’ll make it real.”

Lewis Hall: Georgie and Chelsea’s Room

Georgie’s stomach dropped when she saw the third blocked call of the day. She glanced over at Chelsea who was studying for their chemistry final — the last one of the summer program. “Hey, didn’t you say you were gonna ask Robbie about the hazing?”

“What?”  Chelsea blinked. “What?”

“Robbie. You were going to ask him if Sigma Alpha was doing initiation early.”

“Oh.” Chelsea straightened, stretched her arms over her head. “I did. He said no, that they don’t do anything until rush week later next month. He said there weren’t a lot of members on campus anyway. Not until this week when moving in for fall starts.”

That wasn’t the answer Georgie wanted as she stared down at the cell phone. At the blocked call. “Maybe some of the older guys are testing out ideas.”

“That’s possible. I mean, they get watched really closely by the admin,” Chelsea said. “So they’re probably trying to brainstorm new ways not to get caught hazing. Sigma’s throwing a big party on Friday. I can ask Robbie then if you want.”

“Yeah. I guess I’d just feel better if we were sure the flowers were a prank.”

“Haven’t had any since, so probably.” Chelsea flipped a page in her book. “It’s not a good one, maybe they didn’t like the reaction.”

“Hopefully,” Georgie muttered. She turned off her cell phone and went back to studying.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Spinelli set the pizza boxes on the coffee table then sat next to Cameron who was practically vibrating with excitement. “I love pizza,” he told Spinelli for the third or fourth time since he’d learned they were staying for dinner and dinner was pizza.

Elizabeth laughed from the other end of the sofa, bouncing Jake in her lap. “And we got your favorite—”

Spinelli lifted the top on the first box, steam rising from inside. “Yum, pepperoni!”

“Yay, roni! And no green stuff.” Cameron looked up as Jason stepped around the sofa, setting down paper plates, napkins, and a bottle of orange soda. His eyes were wide. “I have soda?”

Elizabeth made a face, but the joy in her son’s expression was impossible to resist. “Just a little.”

“Little Dude is an orange soda fan?” Spinelli offered him a high five. “My kind of kid.”

Jason set down an empty sippy cup with Spiderman emblazoned on the side. “This just appeared in my kitchen,” he told Cameron.

“The Fairy Godfather strikes again?” Elizabeth wanted to know as Cameron almost bounced of the sofa. Jason poured a little of the soda into the cup, twisted the top on and handed it to him.

“This is the best day ever. Soda and roni.” Cameron sighed happily, beaming at Jason. The toddler turned back to Spinelli who handed him pizza. “Best day,” he repeated.

Jason couldn’t disagree with that sentiment. He sat on the arm of the sofa, next to Elizabeth, and watched Cameron tear into his slide of pizza—carefully cut into small pieces because Spinelli somehow thought of everything. He’d have to find a way to show the kid how much he appreciated making Elizabeth and the boys feel at home here.

He hoped that one day, not too far away, it would be their home. He knew that Elizabeth would pack the boys up after dinner and take them to Audrey’s. It was far too soon to talk about staying — and Jason wanted to make sure that Cameron was included in any overnight visits with Jake. Just as much as he’d wanted to be with his son—how he found himself hoping Lucky pushed Elizabeth too far, that the time would come when Jason could tell Elizabeth that he wanted Cameron, too. He wanted them, all.

But rushing her would only backfire, Jason decided. If he was careful and patient, he would be able to make her dream a reality.

Elizabeth smiled up at him. Their dream, he corrected himself. It was theirs now. And he wasn’t going to let Lucky Spencer ruin it.

August 27, 2022

This entry is part 19 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 49 minutes.


Scorpio-Drake Home: Emma’s Bedroom

Trina knocked on Emma’s open door. “Hey. You never came back down—” She paused. “Are you crying? What happened?”

Emma sniffled, swiping at her tears. She shoved herself off her bed. “I’m fine. Let’s go downstairs—”

“No, did you and Cam have another fight?” Trina folded her arms. “What did Joss tell him? Because if she made it sound worse—”

“I don’t know what she told him,” Emma said, “but it’s not—” She drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t know. Do you think we were fair to her today?”

Trina shifted, staring at the ground. “I don’t know. We’ve been mean to each other since kindergarten—”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But—” Trina winced. “The thing about her dad might be a low blow. I’m a kid of divorce, too. And Spencer gave me attitude about it. I just—Joss is always talking about her dad and how rich and important he is—” She closed her mouth. “Which might be her way of explaining why he’s never around.”

“I just—Cam talked about how his dad—his mom’s last husband—just left him. You don’t remember him, I don’t think.”

“No, but I know the story. He’s Aiden’s bio dad, but Jake’s dad adopted Cam and Aiden, so it’s all legal.” Trina leaned against the door frame. “And I know Spencer’s sensitive about the dad thing.”

“I’m not saying we have to be best friends with her,” Emma said, “but you guys haven’t pulled any pranks on each other since the blue hair dye. I don’t really know why I snapped at her today.”

“Me either. And I feel bad that she left like that. She must have been really upset. And like, yeah, my dad does really important work, but—” Trina pressed his lips together. “Sometimes it’s like that work is more important than me. So if that’s what Joss feels about her dad, I guess maybe we got something in common.”

“We’ll call her and make it right,” Emma said with a nod. “I know we can.”

Baker House: Kitchen

The house was silent as Patrick and Elizabeth crept inside. She closed the door, keeping the handle twisted until the door was nestled inside the frame, then releasing it so that there was no sound of tumblers clicking.

They’d done a test run during one of Baker’s night shifts a few days ago to time themselves. Just one. Any more than that, they risked getting caught.

She looked at her phone one more time  — Baker was still asleep, resting on his stomach, the thin blanket shoved to the side, his face turned towards the camera. Elizabeth nodded, then Patrick took the lead.

They kept their arms at their side, their hands were gloved, and they’d taken off their shoes at the back door. It had added maybe a minute to their time, but Patrick didn’t want shoe prints from the mix of dirt and snow. It had to look like no one had been in the house.

Patrick rounded the corner out of the kitchen, then down the short hallway connecting the living room to the one bedroom and bath at the other end of the house. Mercifully, the bedroom door stood partially ajar — though during their test run, Patrick had oiled the joints on both doors to avoid any creaking.

He paused outside the bedroom door, looked back at Elizabeth, then at the door — carefully pushing it open.

Scorpio-Drake Home: Backyard

Robin stepped out onto the deck. “How’s the turkey going?” she asked Sonny. “It hasn’t exploded yet, so that’s a good sign.”

“Ye of little faith,” Sonny replied good-naturedly.

Robin smirked, then looked at Jason. “Hey, did you hear from Elizabeth yet? I thought and Patrick would be done at noon. He promised he’d come right home so I wasn’t on my own with Carly—and he doesn’t know she left—” she added when Sonny opened his mouth.

Jason checked his phone. It was nearly twelve-thirty, maybe ten or fifteen minutes after they could have expected them to be home. “She didn’t call.”

“Maybe they got called into an emergency surgery,” Sonny suggested.

“Yeah, that’s true. Still—” Robin made a face, looked back at the teens. “Cameron didn’t come back out?”

“No, he’s inside with Aiden.” Jason followed her gaze. Emma and Trina had returned to the group around the electric heater, but it was more sullen.

“I’m sorry Joss got hurt,” Robin said. “But maybe it’s for the best. If they don’t get along, we can’t force it—”

“Joss gets along fine with Cameron,” Jason said without thinking, and Robin’s eyes narrowed.

“So, it’s my kid that’s the problem and not Carly’s?” she asked coolly.

“You know, I think it’ll be more comfortable inside with the former commissioners,” Sonny muttered, ducking between them and disappearing inside.

“That’s not what I said,” Jason shooting Sonny a dirty look just as the mobster slid the door closed. Coward. “I just said Joss has no issue with Cameron.”

“Which is something she gets from her mother. Carly always managed to make friends with the guys, but I never met a woman who could stand her—”

“Joss isn’t her mother,” Jason cut in sharply and Robin’s cheeks flushed. “And Carly was friends with a woman. Sonny’s sister. And she and Elizabeth get along fine now—”

“Which means it’s me and my kid who are the problem—”

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Jason said, trying to find the patience. “I know Carly isn’t for everyone. I know that you have legitimate issues with her that go back a long time. And no, I don’t think we should try to force Emma or anyone else to be friends with Joss.”

“Then why bring up Cameron if you agree with me?”

“Because it’s—” Jason took a minute. “Elizabeth and Carly couldn’t stand each other. But they figured out how to be civil because of me. Cameron and Joss have been friends since they were kids. I don’t see how it’s different—”

“You wouldn’t. You’ve had a blind spot to Carly since the day you met her, and it looks like your son picked up your bad habit of expecting everyone to put up with someone just because they—” Robin closed her eyes. “I don’t want to fight about this. I don’t even know why we are.”

“You don’t have to like Carly. No one said you did. I just don’t see what’s so wrong with Joss that justifies making her cry.” Or making her feel so left out she walked home alone.

“Maybe it’s just striking a nerve,” Robin said slowly, “listening to you talk about my daughter having to put up with someone she doesn’t like because her boyfriend does.” She looked back out over the yard. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I am. Because I forced Carly on you back then, and I never really apologized. I messed up, and I hurt you,” Jason told her. “I’m sorry.”

Robin smiled then, a bit more genuinely. “It’s silly, really, for us to get involved with their problems. I would have been mortified if Uncle Mac was fighting my battles for me behind my back.”

“I don’t remember being a teenager, but I don’t think I’d like it either.”

“I’ll go get Sonny and tell him it’s safe to come back out. I don’t want this thing exploding on my deck.”

Baker House: Bedroom

The room was dark, lit only by the weak November sunlight filtering in through the grimy windows, but Patrick and Elizabeth had practiced this too many times in their minds and in conversations.

Patrick drew out the bottle of succinylcholine and syringe. He stuck the needle inside the top, drew out the dosage required and handled it to Elizabeth. He returned the bottle to his pocket and went to stand at the top of the bed while Elizabeth went to the foot of the bed.

She gently drew back the blanket where it covered Baker’s foot. It was long, skinny, the big toe sticking out like a finger. Her heart was pounding. It was the first time she’d been this close to him since that day at the hospital, when she’d been catapulted back to that horrible moment, to being on her back, the freezing snow and ice seeping into her back, spreading through her limbs, numbing her, strangling her throat she couldn’t even scream—

The sight of him, the way his voice sounded — it had brought back her worst nightmare. Pandora’s Box had been blown to smithereens and every terrible thought and feeling was pouring out. She couldn’t shove them all back in again, and maybe she’d never get that before feeing back.

But it would be better. She would exist in a world where she and every other girl walking alone would be safe.

Her heart might be pounding, but her fingers were steady as she leaned down, angled the syringe between Baker’s toes. She plunged the needle in, his foot jerking just slightly. Then Elizabeth depressed the plunger, watching as the medication left the syringe and entered his body.

Patrick waited with baited breath at the end of the bed, ready to leap into action if Baker did more than jerk his foot—but nothing.

The succinylcholine was a quick-acting drug, which made it perfect for this, really. Elizabeth watched as Baker’s chest stopped rising. They waited a full minute, then Patrick pressed two fingers to Baker’s neck. He looked at Elizabeth, nodded.

It was done.

Tom Baker was dead.

Elizabeth slid the used syringe into her pocket. It, along with the clothes they wore, would be burned at some point. But for now, it was time to go.

On their way out, Patrick stopped, his eyes falling on the photographs across the room, pinned up. He’d recognized them that first day — the missing photos from his locker. From his wallet. His little girl on the wall.

Elizabeth touched his arm, and he looked at her, the rage simmering beneath the surface. She tilted her head. They were on a tight schedule if their alibis were to hold.

After another moment, Patrick turned his back, leaving the evidence behind so that all the world would know that while someone had died here today, nothing of value had been lost.

Scorpio-Drake Home: Front Step

Still a bit unsettled after the argument with Robin, Jason stepped out to the front of the house, scanning the street. He and Robin had been distracted from the question where their spouses were.

It was twelve-forty-five. A half hour later than he would have thought Elizabeth would be home from work. He wasn’t really that worried—after all, she was Patrick’s go-to surgical nurse and it wouldn’t be the first time they’d worked overtime.

He took his phone out, and looked at the find app, expecting to see Elizabeth’s phone at General Hospital. He frowned. It wasn’t — it was in a shopping center. Curious, he called her.

“Hello?” her voice, a bit breathless. “Jason?”

“Hey. I was just wondering what happened.”

“Oh—” Elizabeth laughed. “I got the weirdest craving while I was clocking out. I wanted this brand of pickles. You know those bread and butter ones you hate?”

“Yeah—”

“Patrick offered to come with me, and then we got distracted in the store, because I wanted candy, but they were out of Starbursts, and I couldn’t decide what would taste right with the pickles.”

“Candy,” Jason repeated. “With pickles.”

“Mmmm, when I was pregnant with Jake, all I wanted was Starbursts soaked in pickle juice. I can hear you making a face from here—shut up, Patrick, it’s disgusting but I love it.”

Jason’s chest eased. He hadn’t been around for any of those pregnancy cravings, but he’d be here for these, and he’d make sure the house would be stocked with the disgusting combination.  “I would have gotten those for you—”

“It’s fine. We’re leaving now, and we’ll be home in like five. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

August 26, 2022

This entry is part 18 of 25 in the Flash Fiction: Scars

Written in 50 minutes.


Scorpio-Drake Home: Backyard

Sonny checked the temperature on the deep fryer, then stepped back with a grin on his face. “Always wanted to try one of these.” He accepted the bottle of beer Jason offered.

“I’m just glad Dad’s making one in the kitchen if this one gets burnt to a crisp,” Robin said as she stepped out from the double terrace doors. She folded her arms, drawing her cardigan sweater more tightly around her torso. “I know you don’t feel the cold,” she said to Jason, “but you can still freeze to death.”

“Fryer’s keeping us warm,” Jason offered. He glanced down towards the patio, and the teens clustered around the electric heater. “And I wanted to keep my eye on them.”

“Mmm. Patrick said there was more tension than usual. Not pranks or anything, just a general unhappiness.” Robin peered over the railing, watching as Emma and Trina talked to each other enthusiastically, their hands flying. Cameron was showing Jake something on his Nintendo Switch, and Joss was staring down at her phone.

“You can’t force kids to like each other,” Sonny said. He bumped Robin’s shoulder. “But thanks for trying. Even if you had to invite Carly. Never thought I’d see the day.’

“Me either,” Robin muttered. She straightened as Joss said something to Spencer, and Trina narrowed her eyes. None of the adults could hear what was said, but there was no mistaking  the expression on Trina’s face or the flushed cheeks on Joss. Cameron set his game aside, but it was too late. Joss was already on her feet and dashing across the yard towards the house.

“Mayday,” Sonny said.

Joss charged up the stairs and into the house. Robin winced, started to follow but Jason held out a hand. “Let me try.”

“I guess. You always talked sense into Carly. To the extent anyone could,” Robin added as Jason went inside. He closed the door behind him and set the beer on the island counter.

“Did anyone see where Joss went?” Jason asked Robert and Mac, busy working the second turkey.

“Uh, towards the front of the house,” Mac said.

Jason found her in the entry way, shrugging into her jacket. “Joss—”

“Don’t even start, Uncle Jase. This was stupid. Okay? Just stupid. I didn’t even want to come—” Joss looked at him, her blue eyes shimmering with tears. “I get it. And I’m tired of pity invites.”

“Okay, but—”

Joss yanked open the door, and lit out, running down the front walk. Jason grimaced, jogged to catch up with her. “Didn’t you promise not to walk anywhere alone?” he called as Joss reached the sidewalk.

“Oh—” Joss stopped, closed her eyes, and huffed. “That was after dark. And I was just imagining those sounds, okay?” Her lip trembled. “Don’t make me go back. Please.”

“I won’t,” Jason said carefully, wishing Elizabeth was here. She’d know what to say. “If you really want to go home, I’ll take you myself. It’s too far to walk—”

“Emma hates me, and her mom hates my mom, so I know I only got invited because Aunt Liz made her parents do it—” Joss folded her arms. “I know I pulled some nasty pranks on Trina, and I shouldn’t have tried to make her miss the cheerleading tryouts or tell Oscar that thing  about her hair, but I was just so mad at her—”

“Joss—”

“Like, Trina and Emma just walk into a room and everyone loves them. They don’t even have to work at it. Do you know how how annoying that is? I’m pretty. I’m rich. I’m supposed to be the popular one—” Joss sucked in breath. “God, I hate myself. Emma’s right. I’m just a spoiled entitled princess who couldn’t make friends if someone tied a meat chop around my neck.”

Jason frowned. “Is that what she said?”

“The princess part. I added the rest of it. They only put up with me because of Cameron. I used to be able to count on Spencer, but now he’s dating Trina, so I’m the fifth wheel, and it sucks. I don’t want to be here anymore, okay?” Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and Jason didn’t know the first thing to say to make her feel better. “I hate it. I hate them, and I hate my mother, because let me tell you, being her daughter hasn’t helped either.”

“Joss—”

“I want to leave. Please. I want to go home.”

Jason opened his mouth to say something, but Carly stepped up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Next to her stood Cameron, a distraught expression on his face.

“Thanks for the invite, Jase. Really. Tell Patrick when he gets home I appreciate it,” Carly said. “But Joss and I are gonna head out.”

“Joss, don’t go—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Joss forced a smile on her face, swiped at her tears. “It’s fine. You’ll have more fun when I’m not here.”

“That’s not true—”

But Joss just followed her mother to the car, leaving Jason and Cameron the sidewalk. Cameron exhaled slowly. “I didn’t even realize they were fighting,” he told his father. “We were all fine, and then I looked away to help Jake with the game—next thing I knew—”

“I know.” Jason put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go back inside. Grandma Laura’s watching TV with Aiden in the living room, and she’s probably ready for a break from the puppy parade.”

General Hospital: Locker Room

When the clock struck noon, Elizabeth and Patrick were already in the locker room, changing from scrubs to street clothes. She checked her phone, showed it to him. He nodded grimly. As expected, Baker was still asleep, and would be for at least another three hours if he kept the schedule they’d carefully monitored.

Elizabeth sighed when a text flashed on the screen. “Joss and Carly already made a run for it,” she told Patrick. “The girls got into a fight.”

Patrick winced. “I was really hoping that wouldn’t happen.”

“Me, too—” Elizabeth got to her feet, then braced her hand on the locker, pressing her other hand to her abdomen. “Whoa.”

“You good?” Alarm flashed over his face. “Do you need something? I can go get Britt—”

“No, no—” She exhaled slowly. “The flutters,” she murmured. “It’s the first time I’ve felt the baby.”

“Oh.” Patrick shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know, we can cancel our plans—”

“No. No.” Elizabeth let the moment wash through her, the sensation of the life growing inside her. This baby was going to have everything she could offer — a world safe from Baker. “No, let’s go.”

They had a small window of maybe a half hour before anyone at the house realized they were late. From this moment on, there would be no speaking. Only carrying out the plan they’d carefully orchestrated.

Nothing could go wrong.

Scorpio-Drake Home: Living Room

Cameron tried to distract himself by watching the Puppy Bowl with his youngest brother who was positive that this was the year he’d convince their parents he was old enough for a dog.

Just like he had been for three years.

But he couldn’t get Joss’s face out of his head, and the way she’d run away. Cameron had only heard part of the words Emma had flung at Joss — the spoiled princess part — but there had to be more for Joss to flip out. They were always sniping at each other, weren’t they? Why was it suddenly different? Joss had been moody for a few weeks, ever since the dance—

“I’ll be back,” he told Aiden when he saw Emma through the archway to the kitchen. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Emma bit her lip. “You never came back,” she said, pitching her voice low so her grandfather and uncle didn’t hear her. “Where’s Joss?”

“Don’t tell me you actually care,” Cameron found himself saying, then winced when Emma narrowed his eyes. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, fine.” Emma led him up the backstairs to her room, leaving the door open a few inches. “Look, it wasn’t my idea to invite her, so don’t be mad at me—Trina is tired of putting up with her—”

“You know, I get why Trina and Joss have their issues. Joss has said and done some stupid thing. But not lately—”

“Oh, then I guess everything’s forgiven—”

“But Joss is still my best friend. Okay? Outside of you,” he added. “And she’s always been there for me.”

“One time she tried to steal her dad’s plane—”

“How about when Deenie Masterson turned me in for cheating on that science test last year? When Mr. K found that cheat sheet on the floor, and she blamed me—”

“Joss got up, made a scene, and demanded a lawyer.” Emma made a face. “She’s good at making a spectacle of herself—”

“What did she do today that was so bad?” Cameron wanted to know. “You called her a spoiled little princess. What did she even say?”

“Trina was talking about her dad being out of town and missing him. Joss, like always, decided make it all about her.” Emma rolled her eyes. “Talking about how she understood and missed her dad. Like it’s the same thing! Trina got mad—”

“Dude, Joss’s dad lives on a different continent—”

“And Trina just reminded her that Joss’s dad chooses not to be with her,” Emma said with a shrug, “and Trina’s dad is doing important work. Joss got mad at her, and I told her to stop being a spoiled little princess and just be glad we let her in the house after all the crap she pulled—”

Cameron stared at her blankly. “Trina said what? Are you serious? You don’t even think it’s messed up that she told Joss her dad didn’t want her—”

“Oh, come on, Joss’s dad worships her—”

“You wouldn’t get it,” Cameron retorted. “You never had a parent abandon you—and don’t bring up your mother. She didn’t walk away from you, okay? And she fought hard to come home. My dad didn’t. He didn’t want me. And Joss thinks that all the time about her dad, so yeah, I think it’s a shitty thing to say when Joss was probably just trying to find something they had in common.”

“Oh, come on! Why do you always see the best in Joss?”

“Why do you always see the worst?” Cameron shook his head and started for the door.

“Cam, wait—” Emma reached for his arm, but he shook her off.

“No, I’m pissed. You co-signed something really mean. I spent years wondering what I did to make my dad—Lucky—stop loving me. And sometimes I still think—” He stopped, took a deep breath. “It messes with your head when someone who is supposed to stick doesn’t. I got lucky, okay? I got a new dad and it’s great. Joss doesn’t have that. I don’t care what pranks or crap she pulls with Trina, it’s mean to say what you guys did, and I don’t like either of you right now.”

Cameron stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Parking Lot

This time it was Patrick who bought the car in cash, using the instructions Elizabeth had given him. If anyone ever noticed the strange cars on the street, the descriptions wouldn’t lead to the same person – and Patrick had used a wig to buy it so they wouldn’t even have the right hair color.

They parked the car at a drug store halfway between Baker’s house and the hospital, far enough away that it wouldn’t be tracked. They parked their own car on opposite sides of the lot, then went to the car. Patrick slid into the driver’s side, Elizabeth into the passenger. They exchanged the coats and hats they’d worn from the hospital, for a different set  — deep maroon for Elizabeth and navy blue for Patrick.

“Twenty minutes,” Elizabeth said. “That’s the window. We have to be back in this parking lot in twenty minutes.”

“Got it.” He put the car into drive, then they traveled in silence. He wished it was dark for the cover of night, but broad daylight would have to do. Most of the people on the block worked, he thought. And they were parking a block away, walking through the cluster of trees. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best they could do.

Waiting for perfect meant another day Baker could plot to hurt one of their girls, and Patrick would gladly go down for this if he knew he’d kept them safe.

They got to the woods, and made their way towards the spot that backed up to Baker’s house. His hands were in his pockets, wrapped tightly around the bottle and accompanying syringe.

Then they were at the edge of the woods, Baker’s dumpy, run-down rental house in front of him, the back door six feet away. “Last chance,” he murmured.

Elizabeth slid out the lock picks from her pocket. “Let’s get this over with.” She showed him her phone with the other hand showing Baker still asleep.

Show time.

August 25, 2022

This entry is part 9 of 56 in the Flash Fiction: Watch Me Burn

Written in 57 minutes.


Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, watching as Jason processed the news. “I think I should get another attorney,” she began, and Jason focused on her. “If this is going to come back to criminal charges, you’re the one with more exposure and you need Diane to be concentrating on you—”

“He’s threatening you, too,” Jason pointed out. “And Diane just said we can do a waiver of conflict—”

Elizabeth just shook her head. “I don’t think this—” Her voice faltered, and she took a deep, bracing breath. “It’s almost time for Cam to take a nap. I’ll put him down and you can talk about it with Diane—”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jason began, but stopped as she lifted Cameron into his arms. He’d argue with her later. First he wanted to know exactly what was going on. He waited for Elizabeth to disappear around the corner before looking back at Diane. “Talk.”

Diane pursed her lips, set her briefcase on the desk, and opened it. She removed a legal document, handed it to him. “A preview of the response to the paternity suit—”

“We didn’t file that yet—”

“No, but our claims were going to be pretty standard. Lincoln Frazier was very careful today to make this sound like a preview of his case rather than the threat it was. The only want to avoid this being filed in family court is to not challenge Lucky’s petition for joint custody of both boys.”

Jason grimaced as he flipped through it. “Lucky can’t think this is going to work?”

“If we pull a judge who takes this seriously, he’s honor bound to report evidence of a crime to the criminal court.” Diane studied Jason carefully. “Right now, I represent both of you, so anything you say to me is confidential. Is there any truth to what Lucky is saying?”

“He’s making it sound—” Jason set the paperwork on the desk. “It all happened fast. Manny shot me, and we were fighting on the roof. Lucky took a shot, and Manny went over the edge. When I got downstairs, Manny was dead. But there was no gunshot.”

“How was that missed?” Diane wanted to know. “There was a medal ceremony—”

“I was in surgery for most of the aftermath,” Jason reminded Diane. “I barely survived. There was no cover-up, Diane. Elizabeth wasn’t even involved other than being at the hospital and being on my case. By the time I woke up, Lucky was already being celebrated. Later, I knew the autopsy report didn’t agree with the press, but I figured Alexis didn’t care. Manny was dead.”

“Okay.” Diane touched her throat. “Here’s the part where I give you legal advice. I should tell you to drop the paternity suit. Let this go. Let Elizabeth get her divorce, and settle joint custody—”

“Diane—”

“Later, down the road, you two can get married, and you’ll have your son part of the time—”

Jason just shook his head. “That’s not—”

“I should tell you that,” Diane continued, “but—” She bit her lip. “I’m not going to. I need to talk to Alexis. Find out what the hell is going on. And if there’s still an autopsy report that backs up Lucky Spencer.”

“Diane—”

“Elizabeth has a point. Right now, when it’s just about custody, you two have united interests—” Diane closed her briefcase. “But in a criminal case, if you end up on trial again for this, Elizabeth will be offered a deal to testify against you—”

“There’s nothing to testify—”

“I can’t represent the both of you because it would be in her best interest to take that deal—”

“Which I would never do.”

They turned to look at Elizabeth as she stood on the landing. “We still have a common interest,” she continued. “I would never take a deal to testify against Jason. Even if I knew something—which I don’t. Nothing I could testify to. Lucky knew last year he hadn’t made the shot. It made him crazy and upset. He’s the one that told me. Not Jason. Spousal privilege would protect that in criminal court. I could never testify to it.”

“You two never spoke about this?” Diane asked. “I’m supposed to believe that?”

“It doesn’t matter if we talked about it later. My knowledge doesn’t come from Jason. And Jason wasn’t conscious for most of it. God, Diane, they were planning the medal ceremony almost before he woke up! He almost died! And even if he did shove Manny over the roof, it was self-defense—Manny just kept coming after him—he was never going to stop—”

Diane held up a hand. “All right. All right. If you’re determined, then we’ll sign another waiver. I just wanted you both to think through the possibilities.” She nodded at the paperwork Jason had left on the desk. “As to the paternity suit, do we go forward?”

“What do you want to do?” Jason asked Elizabeth.

“Me? I’m not the one risking everything. You’re the one who the PCPD would go after—”

“They’d go after you, too,” he said roughly, already hating the idea of her being dragged in for questioning, charged as an accomplice.

“I don’t—I don’t care about that. I’m the one who did this, okay? If anyone deserves what’s happening, it’s me—”

“No—”

“I didn’t tell the truth. I deserve it—”

“It sounds like neither one of you want to back down,” Diane broke in, drawing their attention back to her. “You can argue about guilt and blame later. All I want to know is do I tell Lincoln Frazier and his client to go to hell and file the paternity suit?”

“Yes,” Jason said. “File it. If Lucky wants to bring up Manny Ruiz to make us look like unfit parents, I’ve got some stories I can tell, too. He nearly shot her last fall, high on drugs, while trying to kill me.”

Diane blinked. “Well, that does give me something to work with.” She lifted the briefcase. “I’ll be in touch.”

Jason opened the door to let her out, then turned back to Elizabeth. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It just never stops,” she murmured. “There never seems to be a moment where I can just breathe. I’m going to be paying for this lie for the rest of my life. Lucky will make sure of it.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “This is my fault, and I hate that you’re putting your freedom on the line—you just got it back—”

Jason went to her, put his hands on her shoulders to turn her towards him. “If the PCPD wanted me for Manny, they’d have done it. Alexis buried that report because I’d saved Sam’s life and Manny was a threat. You’ll have the official report against the word of an admitted drug addict—”

“I’d give anything to take it back.” She scrubbed her hands down her face. “I’d give anything to just live that moment one more time and not be scared. Not be weak. This never would have happened if I hadn’t lied. If I hadn’t asked you to keep lying.”

“We can’t keep going over this,” Jason said. “Yeah, you asked, but I said yes. This is on me—”

“No, no. Don’t pretend that I didn’t hurt you, okay? I can’t stand when you let me off the hook. You always do.” Elizabeth shrugged, his hands falling away. “I say and do terrible things. I hurt you, I know I did. A thousand times, and you just keep forgiving me. Why don’t you ever get mad at me?” she demanded.

Jason exhaled slowly. “Because I could never hate you. And you’re angry enough for the both of us.” But he could tell that answer hadn’t made her happy. He never knew how to make her happy. “What do you want me to do? Yell at you? Scream? Blame you? I’m not Lucky.”

“No, you’re not.” Elizabeth leaned against the arm of the sofa. “I don’t know. I just—I don’t understand why you’re not more angry. You shouldn’t have to fight this hard for your own son, and I’m the reason you have to—and I hate it—I hate myself—”

“You’re not the one threatening to accuse me of murder. That’s Lucky. He had a choice, Elizabeth. He could have accepted the truth and walked away. He’s the one making this hard for everyone, including himself. Even if I got investigated for Manny’s death, it doesn’t have anything to do with me being a parent. He wants to scare us into backing down. I’m not going to. So be mad at him. Not me.”

“I’m not mad—” Elizabeth frowned at him. “I’m not mad at you.”

“You sure about that? Are you mad that I said yes? Because that’s what it sounds like. You wanted me to fight you, to refuse to let Lucky raise Jake. Maybe a part of you is angry with because I said yes. Maybe you think I don’t love Jake enough—”

“No—No—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I didn’t—” She dug her fingers into her scalp, took a deep breath. “No. That’s not what I wanted,” she said softly. “I knew you loved him. I knew you wanted him. I never doubted that.”

“Then what? What should I have done differently? I gave you what you wanted—”

“I never wanted it,” Elizabeth said, then closed her mouth, her eyes widened as if she hadn’t meant to say it. But then she took a deep breath. “I never wanted it,” she repeated. “But I was scared.”

“Scared of what? My job? You keep telling me that it doesn’t bother you—”

“Scared that you’d give my dream to her,” Elizabeth said, her voice so soft that he almost didn’t hear it. She swallowed hard. “I wanted it, and I knew I couldn’t have it.”

Jason tipped his head, stepped closer to her. “Wanted what?”

“The dream.” She closed her eyes. “New Year’s, when I had the accident. I had these dreams. Dreams of telling you and you were so angry at me. And then these other—I dreamed that you knew. That we were sitting here.” She turned, looked at the sofa, with a nearly blank expression on her face. “I was pregnant. And we were a family. You were reading to Cameron. And I wanted that so much.”

Jason’s voice tightened. “I asked you to marry me.”

“I wanted to say yes,” she said, still not looking at him. Still looking at the sofa as if the ghosts of the dream she’d described could still be seen. “I had to bite my tongue to stop.”

“Why?” he demanded roughly. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because you didn’t love me.” Elizabeth finally turned, met his eyes as tears slid down her cheeks. “That’s it. That’s my confession. I asked you to give up Jake because I knew if I told the truth, I’d be alone, and you’d give my dream to Sam. She’d get to have that family, and I would have nothing.” She sucked in a deep breath. “That’s the truth, Jason. I’m not mad at you for letting me keep lying. I’m mad because you didn’t love me. And because of that, I’ve ruined all our lives.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Spinelli checked his watch, wondering if he should head back to the penthouse or give Stone Cold and the Fair Elizabeth more time alone. He didn’t fancy himself a matchmaker, per se, but he figured if they were alone together with the boys, then surely they’d work things out.

“Got a hot date later?” Georgie wanted to know, setting down his burger and fries. “You keep checking your watch.”

“Oh.” He flushed. “No, no. The Jackal just wonders how long he should stay away from home.”

“You know, I think you’ve already done a lot to help Jason with the kids.” Georgie sat down to take her break. “It’s really up to him and Elizabeth now.” She tugged her phone out, frowning at the missed calls that had racked up while she was working. “Someone keeps calling me on a blocked number,” she said with a frown. “And no voicemail.”

Spinelli narrowed his eyes, and she sighed. “Don’t start. It’s not like the flowers—”

“No, it’s worse,” he muttered. “Georgie—”

When he slid past nicknames and used government ones, Georgie knew his concern was real. “Fine. I promise, I’ll tell Mac about the calls.”

“And the flowers.”

“And the flowers.” She patted his arm. “Eat your dinner, then take another ten minutes and head home. That should be enough time.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

She wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor—anything to make this moment over and never speak of it again. But of course this was reality, and Jason was just staring at her like she’d sprouted an extra head—

She might as well have — what made her think this was a good time to drag all of that up? Elizabeth folded her arms nervously. “I should check on the boys.”

“Wait, wait—” Jason caught her arm as she started past him. “We need to talk about this—”

“Talk about what? What an insane person I am? The terrible things I did because I was scared and selfish?” She pulled away. “None of that is news to me—”

“I should have told you,” Jason cut in and she closed her mouth, drawing her brows together in confusion. “A thousand times, I should have told you. I wanted to. But it all got complicated, and I didn’t know if it was even fair—”

“Wait. Told me what?” Elizabeth stepped closer to him, her heart pounding wildly because surely he wasn’t—

“I love you.”

His words hung between them for a long moment — he had nothing else to offer, and she couldn’t force any words over the lump in her throat. Because she wanted so desperately to believe him, but it was too good to be true—she didn’t deserve to hear those words, for them to be true, not after everything she had done—after all the hurt and pain, she wasn’t supposed to get what she wanted—

“Elizabeth—”

“I—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “You wouldn’t just say that if you didn’t mean it,” she said softly, more to herself than to him, wanting to reassure herself.

Jason grasped her elbow, drew her closer. “No, I wouldn’t. I didn’t know how to tell you before. It didn’t seem fair,” he admitted. “And I was engaged to another woman. Someone I didn’t want to hurt. And I thought you wanted Lucky. So I tried to give you what you wanted.”

“You—back then—you’re—” She couldn’t make sense of any of this. Couldn’t make the world stop spinning for just a moment— “I—”

“For years,” Jason continued, framing her face with his hands, his thumbs brushing tears from her cheeks, “I put what I felt for you in a box, and I buried it. Because I couldn’t have what I wanted. But last year, that night, I let it all out, and I didn’t know how to put it back. I didn’t want to.”

Her lip trembled. “I told myself so many times that it was just comfort, just friendship, but I put you away, too. Then you looked at me, and it was like none of that had happened. Like we were just starting all over again. I messed it  up—”

“No,” he murmured. “We’re not doing that anymore. Okay? It happened. It’s over. And now we’re standing here. Tell me,” his breath warm against her mouth. “Give me the words so I can give them back.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And then he kissed her, and the world went away.

August 24, 2022

This entry is part 5 of 10 in the The Last Time

Written in 27 minutes



19
You wear your best apology

Elizabeth pushed herself up on her elbows when she saw Emily step inside the partially open door. “Em. Hey.”

“Hey.” Emily came to the side, leaned over to hug her lightly. “How are you? Are they going to keep you another night?”

“I’m not sure. Kelly wanted to see my blood pressure come down a few more points, and to monitor the baby. She read your witness statement—” Elizabeth rested her hand against her belly, feeling the baby shift and roll inside. “She was nervous when I couldn’t feel him moving.”

“I’m so sorry—” Emily’s voice broke, and she dipped her head.

“Em—”

“My dad—” Emily squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you. God—” She breathed out, a harsh sound that sounded like more like a sob. “Dad got to the hospital, but he wasn’t stable enough for surgery. He died.”

Elizabeth reached out her hand, feeling useless to do much else with monitors taped everywhere, her movements limited. “Oh, Em, I’m so sorry.”

“I got to speak to him. We all did, which I’m glad about. I mean, not Grandfather, but I know it gave Dad peace to talk to Jason—”

“Jason was—” Elizabeth’s hand fell back down to her hospital bed. “He was there? He talked to Alan?” And then had come back to her room after his father had died— “He never said anything.”

“You saw him?”

“This morning. Um, while we were trapped in the elevator, I told him the truth. The truth I should have told everyone months ago—”

“About the baby,” Emily cut in gently. “I know. Lucky came by.”

“God.” Elizabeth’s head fell back against the pillow. “I was so tired. Just completely at the end of my rope. I just—I wanted him to stop talking so I told him, and it was such a terrible way—and then Jason came in—and then Sam was there, I think. I don’t know. It all runs together for me.” She exhaled slowly. “He didn’t tell me,” she repeated softly. And she’d been hard on him.

“I don’t think he’s handling it well.” Emily swiped at her eyes. “Me? I had the time with Dad. I hate this, I should have had him longer, but at least I won’t have regrets. Jason will.” She paused. “But you and Jason—he took the news okay?”

“Pretty well considering I lied to him. I didn’t want to, I didn’t even mean to, but it just—it was like this terrible avalanche, and I didn’t even start it.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “But I stopped it.”

“That’s good. I’m glad he knows. I’m sorry for Lucky, but he seems to handling it okay. Nikolas and I will be there for him. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Thanks.” Elizabeth’s eyes stung. “I’m really sorry about Alan. I’m glad you chose him, you know. He gt to the hospital and you were able to say goodbye to him. That’s—that’s going to help.”

“I know. Doesn’t help right now—” Emily rubbed the side of her face. “I keep forgetting. Doesn’t that sound terrible? I woke up this morning, and I had to remember, and then I took a nap, and I remembered—and I hate it. It’s like he dies over and over again. Losing Grandmother was horrible, but Dad—he was supposed to be here longer.” Her voice faltered. “There should have been more time. We deserved more time.”

20
But I was there to watch you leave

Sam thought about ignoring the knock at the door when it came later that day — only a few people had the right to walk past the desk without an advance cal—and Sam didn’t want to see any of them. Not right now. Not when she couldn’t understand how everything could keep going so wrong, and why she was somehow the bad guy—

All she’d done was not handle terrible news all that well — how had Jason been able to walk out as the innocent party?

But the knocking persisted, so Sam went over to answer it because maybe it was someone to yell at—

“Where’s Jason?” Carly demanded as she stalked past Sam, into the living room. She looked around. “Jason!”

“Not here,” Sam said dully.

“I haven’t been able to find him all day. He’s not answering my calls—” Carly huffed. “Where did he go? I heard about Alan—”

“You might want to check with Elizabeth,” Sam said, the words leaving her mouth as a snarl, something she hadn’t intended. “She’d know.”

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

“It means—” Sam dragged her hands through her hair. “It means that Elizabeth lied to us all, okay? The paternity test. It didn’t come back for Lucky—”

“No, of course it did—” Carly stared at her. “I saw her open it. I knew it was Lucky’s baby!”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, I don’t know what to tell you. She’s saying differently now—”

“No, no, this is a trick, okay? Because I saw her open it, and if it had been Jason’s baby—she’d dropped everything. She finished her shift—”

“That’s your evidence?” Sam said, skeptically. “Did she even show you the results?”

“No, but she sure as hell didn’t deny it—” Carly hissed. “This is a trick,” she repeated. “A low down dirty trick. She’s taking advantage of Jason’s grief, right? Alan died. She’s using it.”

“I—” Sam shook her head. “I don’t want to hear any of this right now.” As much as Sam hated all of this—even hated Elizabeth—even she knew that wasn’t what was happening. Elizabeth had slid in through the cracks of Jason and Sam’s relationship, always there when a fracture deepened. But if Elizabeth had wanted to take advantage of Jason, she would have accepted his marriage proposal.

Any of the times he’d made it. She’d refused him, and how was Sam supposed to handle that? To understand the grief in Jason’s eyes hadn’t only been for his father, but for the rejection he’d felt.

“You can sit here and yell into the wind, but I’m going to take a nap,” Sam said finally said. And while Carly was in mid-complaint, Sam went upstairs and did exactly that.