Category Archives: Flash Fiction

August 14, 2020

This entry is part 18 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits.

Jason and Cameron weren’t alone in the waiting room for long — Carly showed up soon after they had with Joss in tow. Joss immediately flew to Cameron’s aside, the first she’d been able to see her best friend since the news had hit that morning.

Carly’s arms were tightly folded as she took in the blood on Jason’s shirt and hands. “Is there any point in asking you to get cleaned up?” she asked.

Jason shook his head wordlessly, then looked over as Drew walked in. Cameron shot his feet, glaring the man who had remained behind with Sam —

“What do you want?” Cameron demanded as Joss put a hand on his elbow. “No! I don’t want him in here! Or you—” he finally said, turning to Jason. “Neither of you deserve to be anywhere near my mother—”

“Cam—”

“What is that about?” Carly demanded as a pale Drew joined them, and Joss took Cameron aside. “What the hell—”

“He got a crash course in my—” Drew closed his eyes. “In Sam’s history with Elizabeth. And everything she’s done.”

“Done?” Carly repeated. She furrowed her brows. “What? I mean, I know she slept with Lucky while he was married to Elizabeth, but beyond that—” She looked back and forth between them. “Oh, is this something that’s going to piss me off?”

“It’s not important right now,” Drew said, dismissing Carly. “And none of your business—”

“Hey—”

“Sam’s been sedated,” Drew told Jason. “And Alexis is with her now. I just—I came to find out how Elizabeth is—”

“When were you going to tell me my son has cancer again?” Jason demanded, roughly. “Why didn’t you tell me—” He held up a hand to keep Carly from butting in again. He didn’t have the time or patience to rein her in at the moment.

“Sam wanted to—” Drew took a deep breath. “Sam wanted to keep it to herself, and after Julian refused to donate a second time—”

“He did what—”

“Carly, stop—” Jason snapped and she pressed her lips together in a mutinuous line. “I thought you said Sam left town—that you hadn’t heard from her—”

“That’s true,” Drew told him. “But Danny—I talked to Julian. I got Kiki to talk to him, and it’s already been—Danny’s already scheduled for the procedure, and Finn is confident he’ll go into remission again—” He scowled. “But I guess—I don’t know. If her condition came back, or maybe Julian’s refusal just sent her over the edge—then finding out about Franco—”

He rubbed his chest, then clenched his hand into a fist. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “She took off, and I’ve been trying to get in touch with her. If she’d just—if she’d called me—I could have told her—”

Carly opened her mouth, then closed it again, clearly trying to obey Jason’s order to be quiet.

“You did what?” Joss screeched, and Drew winced as the trio turned to the teens in the corner.

“She sure does take after you,” Drew muttered as Joss shot out of her chair, her hands on her hips.

“You snuck into the car, you stupid idiot—” Joss smacked Cameron hard in the shoulder. “What the hell are you thinking?”

“Hey—” Cameron lunged to his feet, glaring right back at her. “I was thinking that my mother was going off with two idiots who never ever fucking do anything to stop Sam from hurting her and I wanted to be there if she needed anything—”

His face crumpled then as he sank back onto the chair, his head in his hands. “But it’s my fault. Sam grabbed me. Mom came after me—”

Drew started towards him, but Jason held him back. “I’m the one that forgave Sam after she was part of getting Jake kidnapped,” he reminded him. “Everything else is on me, not you.”

“I have my regrets,” Drew muttered but let Jason walk over to Cameron as Drew stayed next to Carly who, mirroring her daughter, smacked Drew in the shoulder.

“She did what to Jake?”

Jason ignored them and sat next to Cameron. “Your mother would walk through fire for you. She would not want you to blame yourself for this—”

“She dared Sam to shoot her instead of me,” Cameron said dully. “It should be me in there—”

“No,” Joss shook her head. “No, Cam—”

“And then your mother would be out here, terrified of losing another son. Jake might have come back, but she—” Jason drew in a sharp breath. “She never would have forgiven herself if it was you. You know that.”

“How could you let her back into your life?” Cameron demanded. “How could you let her hurt my mother like that? Why did you stop—” He shook his head, looked away.

“I made a mistake,” Jason said slowly. “When I broke up with your mother after Jake was kidnapped. You were four years old, I don’t know if you remember—” He paused. “And by the time I regretted it, your mother had moved on, and I thought I had lost my chance. I was lonely. And I’m sorry.”

Cameron swallowed hard. “If you broke up with her to keep her safe, it didn’t work.”

“No, it didn’t,” Jason admitted. “I’m sorry, Cameron. I can’t—I can’t change what I did. I can only promise to do better.”

Cameron looked at him, must have seen something in his eyes that convinced him, so he nodded. “Okay. But I don’t care what happens to Sam. She doesn’t come near my mother ever again.”

“Agreed,” Jason said, though he wasn’t entirely sure how they’d make that happen. He looked over at Drew who was still being whacked in the shoulder by Carly — he must have explained Maureen Harper.

“It wasn’t me, damn it, Carly—”

“Oh, I will get him later, don’t you worry—I always knew she was trash—”

Joss rolled her eyes. “My mother. The hypocrite.”

The door opened then, and Griffin came in, frowning as he saw Carly whack Drew one more time before Drew got out of the way.

“Uh, I just came to let you know we finished the surgery,” he said, still casting a side-eye at Carly and Drew before focusing on Jason and Cameron. “Elizabeth’s in post-op and should make a full recovery.”

August 13, 2020

This entry is part 13 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 19 minutes. No time for typos.

Jason stared at Elizabeth for a long time before looking down at the envelope she’d placed in his hands.

They had stood here in late August, in the same positions—she looking at him with sober, sad eyes, holding out a stark white envelope with General Hospital’s logo and Patrick’s Drake name scribbled across the front.

She was still looking at him with sober, sad eyes and he realized, even before he had opened the results—before he had confirmed that her words were true—that she was expecting the same outcome as she had three months ago.

That Jason would rush off to tell Sam, bring home her son, and reunite, saving their marriage, and getting a fresh start.

Jason exhaled slowly, drew out the folded paper, and read it. He furrowed his brow slightly at the notification a few tests—he’d look at that more carefully in a minute, but—

Sam’s son was alive. At least, according to this test, he was.

“Why didn’t you tell me you thought Brad Cooper was lying to you?” Jason said. He folded it again, slid it back into the envelope, and tucked it inside his jacket. “Why did you go to Spinelli?”

“Because I wanted to be wrong,” Elizabeth admitted. She folded her arms, tightly, as if she could hold herself together. “And I’m terrible for that. Terrible for hoping that Sam’s son stayed dead. I have to live with myself, knowing that I feel that way—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I just—” Elizabeth’s eyes squeezed shut as she turned away from him, looked out over the skyline of Port Charles. “I can’t stop hating myself. I almost—” She sucked in the breath. “I was going to wait. Until the end of my shift. To keep putting it off. I’m no better than Sam was when she kept the truth about Jake—”

“Elizabeth, how long did you have these results?” Jason asked. He put a hand on her shoulder, turned her back to face him. “An hour? Two?”

“Ten minutes,” she said with a wince. “But I thought it—”

“And I thought about strangling Lucky Spencer every time he puts his hands on you or Jake,” Jason said in a low voice. “I didn’t do it. You didn’t lie to me, Elizabeth. And you didn’t let anyone walk away from Danny. You didn’t watch whatever happened—you didn’t see it happen.”

He paused. “And this isn’t August,” Jason continued. “Things are different now—”

“Jason—”

“I can’t tell you what would have happened if we’d…if we’d learned this back then,” Jason said slowly. “I can only tell you what changes today. And it’s nothing.”

She met his eyes, frowning slightly. “I—”

“I mean, we’ll take this to Sam, and let her handle it. And then I’ll go deal with Tracy because she had no right to do this—” Jason squinted. “And was there another test in there that compared my DNA to Franco’s?”

“Uh—” Elizabeth scratched her temple. “Yeah. Um, I guess Tracy wanted—you’re not Franco’s brother. I mean—DNA wise, there’s no blood—”

And that was a relief—a weight off his shoulders. “Okay. But that’s all that changes.”

“I—”

“I love you,” he told her quietly. “But I understand that you don’t trust that.”

“It’s not that I don’t—” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, bit down. “It’s not that I don’t trust you—”

“You don’t trust me to stay,” Jason told her, with a shake of his head. “And that’s because I didn’t. When it mattered. It matters now. You did this, even worried that it meant I’d leave you. And that means—” He took out the test again. Really thought about the risk she’d taken—believed she’d been taking.

“I hope it means part of you does trust me,” Jason added, “but it also reminds me that I can trust you. To always be honest. Even when it might hurt us both. And that’s—” He hesitated. “That’s not something we’ve always shared.”

“No, I guess that’s true.” Elizabeth’s smile was tentative. “So—I mean—”

He leaned down, brushed her lips with his. “Nothing has changed for me. I love you. And I love the life we’re building together. I’m glad I get to tell Sam her son is alive, but I want to do that with you. She should know that you were part of it.”

“I can probably get Epiphany to cover the rest of my shift,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’d—I’d like to be there when Sam finds out.” She stood on the tips of her toes, kissed him. “I love you, too.”

——

Jason called Sam and asked her to meet him in the park — on neutral ground. Sam had seemed confused with the call, but he told her that he and Elizabeth wanted to talk to her about something.

He’d heard the pain in her voice as she asked him if he was telling her they were getting married. He assured her that it wasn’t the case, and she agreed.

Still — Jason wasn’t entirely unsurprised when Sam walked into the park with John McBain at her side.

Sam never liked to walk into any battle outnumbered—and everything was a battle to her.

“Jason—” Sam looked at Elizabeth, standing at his side. “What’s going on?”

“A few months ago, I met Tea Delgado’s son,” Jason told her. “And I got suspicious because her son was born the same night as yours—”

“Jason—”

“And there were other reasons,” he continued, “that I won’t get into right now, but I told Elizabeth about my theory. She arranged a DNA test.” He looked at Elizabeth.

“The first test came back negative,” Elizabeth told Sam, “but the lab tech who ran it was nearly fired due to budget cuts. Budget cuts that were solved by a donation from ELQ—from Tracy Quartermaine—”

Sam closed her eyes, her face pale, her hands shaking as she put them up. “What are you saying—”

“I was worried the tech had lied to me,” Elizabeth said. “So I asked Spinelli if he could track down the original test.”

She held out the envelope. “And the original test confirmed Jason’s theory. Tea Delgado’s son is Danny. She’s raising him in Llanview, but he’s—”

Sam gasped, choking on a sob. “What—What? Are you—”

“Danny is alive, Sam. Your son is alive.”

August 12, 2020

This entry is part 16 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

No time for typos. Written in 20 minutes.

By the time Jason arrived with the clean up crew, he found Elizabeth standing over Ric’s body. Blood was dribbling out of Ric’s mouth, and his eyes were still open, the film of death clouding them.

Elizabeth met his eyes when she came through the door. “Where’s Lily?” She tucked the gun she’d still been holding back in her purse holster, then strode over to him. “Is she okay? Where—”

“With Steven across the hall.” Jason took her by the shoulder as a few men came in and started to wrap Ric in the plastic tarp. He searched her eyes, then looked up and down—not a mark on her, a hair out of place—

He pressed his lips together, looked at Ric’s body, then back at Elizabeth. “That’s why you wanted to meet him alone,” Jason said, exhaling. “You were planning this.”

“He was never going to stop,” she murmured. She also looked back at her ex-husband, at the man who had never, ever accepted her right to say no, to walk away, and build a new life.

“I never—I would have done this—” His throat was tight. “I didn’t want this for you—”

“This was my battle to fight. Not yours. He came after you because of me.” Her voice trembled. “He stole our daughter because of me. I needed to finish it. I need to see her—she’s okay? You said she’s okay?”

“She is.” Jason put an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the penthouse, away from Ric Lansing for the last time. “She’s—she’s been called Isla this last year.” He stopped her before they went inside. “She’s in perfect health, but she doesn’t know us.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, scrubbed her hands over her face. “Isla,” she repeated. “She’s—she’s not even a year old. We—we could—we could go back to—”

But now it felt wrong. Lily had been the name they’d chosen together for their little girl, their dream, for their future. She’d wanted to honor Jason’s grandmother, Lila—

This little girl didn’t know them.

“We could,” Jason said slowly. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Let’s just go inside and take it step by step.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, twisted the knob, then opened the door. Inside, her brother was sitting on the sofa, the baby in his lap. She was smiling at him, a stuffed dog in her hands, an ear in her mouth.

The baby turned at the sound. She smiled. Elizabeth choked back a sob. It was her little girl, the little face she’d seen in the photograph—older now, the hint of fuzzy blond hair a little longer now—curling around her ears. She had her daddy’s sunny blonde hair, his blue eyes—

“She looks like you,” Jason told her. Elizabeth blinked, then laughed. “What?” he asked, his eyes crinkling with confusion.

“I was just thinking that she looked like you—your coloring—”

“She has your face.” Jason walked over and without a word, Steven handed the baby to him. “Hey, Isla,” Jason said softly, bouncing her slightly. “Remember me?”

The baby ducked her head, pressing it against Jason’s chest, then smiling at him. She babbled something, waved the stuffed dog.

“That’s right, that’s from me,” he murmured. Elizabeth recognized it now — he’d given it to her the day they’d learned she was pregnant. Baby’s first toy.

It had been sitting in the nursery for over a year, waiting for their daughter.

“This is Mommy,” Jason told her. The baby crinkled her eyes, shook her head. “I know, you have another Mommy—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, her heart aching. Oh, God—it would be so easy for their daughter to adjust to Jason—she’d never had a father—no other person to replace—but she already had a mother.

“This is also your mommy,” Jason told her. He walked over to Elizabeth. “This is Elizabeth.”

“Hi, baby.” Elizabeth reached out, touched her skin. Oh, God, she was real. She was really—she was here. This wasn’t another waking nightmare. “Hi.”

She babbled, smiled at Elizabeth, then tucked her head against Jason to give Elizabeth the same smile she’d given Jason a moment ago.

“Your name, it’s—” Elizabeth swallowed. “You’re Isla.”

Something that sounded like yes emerged from the babble as Isla lifted her head, waved the dog ear at her.

“Can I give you a hug?” she asked. “I’d like—I’d like to hug you.”

“Dog,” Isla said with a nod. She held out her arms, and Jason transferred her into Elizabeth’s embrace.

And Elizabeth held her daughter for the first time. She held her tight, cupping the back of her head, pressing her cheek to her daughter’s. It didn’t matter what her name was—didn’t matter that today, Isla didn’t really know who she was.

She was holding her little girl.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at Jason. “Thank you. For bringing her home.” His eyes were red, and she could see the tears clinging to his lower lashes as he nodded. He smoothed his hand down Isla’s back. Their first time standing together as a family.

—

A few hours later, they put Isla down for her first night in the nursery. Elizabeth had rocked her to sleep in the rocking chair, just as she’d dreamed for so long, Jason leaning against the door frame.

As Isla’s beautiful blue eyes closed, Elizabeth looked up at Jason. “We’ll have to take turns putting her to sleep,” she told him. “We have so much time to make up for.”

He nodded, then hesitated. “I never should have left six months ago,” Jason told her. “I never dreamed—I never thought she was—I wouldn’t have—”

“I know. Neither of us dreamed this might be possible.” Elizabeth bit her lip, letting her finger drift down Isla’s soft cheek. “It would be easy to hold on to the anger, to the bitterness. To the way I’ve felt for six months. The divorce is supposed to be final in a few weeks.”

She met Jason’s eyes again. “I’m not letting Ric steal more time from me. I’ll call Justus in the morning and withdraw the petition. We deserve—we deserve a chance to be a family.”

Jason walked over, then knelt beside the chair to kiss Isla first—her eyes crinkled slightly, but stayed closed. “I love you,” he told her.

“I love you, too.”

August 11, 2020

This entry is part 17 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

Jason was already in motion from the second that Sam had shoved Cameron aside—Drew had leapt for the teenager, covering him with his body while Jason tried to get to Elizabeth—

But his reflexes weren’t as quick as they’d been once and Elizabeth was just a little too far away—

He tackled her to the ground, then rolled her, as she pressed her hand to her abdomen, her face pale with shock, breaking out in sweat and tears.

Jason covered his hand with hers, trying to press down, his heart pounding as the blood continued to gush—

“Elizabeth—” He cupped her head with his hand, trying to make eye contact but hers were already rolling back in her eyes—

“Get away from her!” Sam cried. She was closer now, her voice shaking even more. “She has to pay! She protected him! She took him back!”

“Elizabeth, look at me—” Jason said, ignoring her, angling himself so that he was between Sam and Elizabeth—to shoot again, she’d have to put a bullet in him—

“Mom!”

Cameron tried to rush at his mother, but Drew held him back with one hand, drawing his weapon with the other. He stared at his wife, at the mother of his child—then slowly raised the gun. “Put it down, Sam.”

Sam blinked, turned away from Elizabeth, towards Drew. “Don’t you understand?” she demanded. “Why don’t you get it? I had to kill Danny’s last chance—”

“Don’t make me do this,” Drew begged. Cameron swallowed hard as he watched Jason carefully lift Elizabeth in his arms, taking advantage of Sam’s distraction. He was going to get to her to the ambulances—the PCPD was still at the motel—surely someone had heard the gunshots—

“She has to pay!” Sam sobbed, her hands were shaking. “She has to—” She turned back but Jason and Elizabeth were gone. “No!” she screeched. She started to run—but Drew rushed after her, tackling her—the gun went flying and Cameron scrambled to get it off the ground, away from Sam’s clutches—

“She has to pay!” Sam continued to sob even as Drew sat up and started to rock her back and forth, his face creased with tears of his own. “She has to…”

—

Chase met them halfway with a squad of officers—they had heard the shot and were rushing towards them. Jason barely took a second to tell them what they’d find — he knew Drew would protect Cameron, but Elizabeth’s eyes were closed, she was pale, and losing blood fast—

He broke out of the woods, finding another ambulance there. He laid Elizabeth down on the ground as paramedics rushed him, pushing him out of the way.

Jason couldn’t stop it—couldn’t fix it—had to trust that they knew what they were doing—

Cameron crashed out of the woods, almost tumbling into Jason. “Mom! Mom!”

Jason grabbed his arm before the teenager could rush towards them. “Let them—let them work—”

“We need to get her to GH,” one of the medics barked. In a flurry of activity, they had Elizabeth on the stretcher and were hustling her towards the ambulance. Jason dragged Cameron towards the SUV.

——

Jason was pacing the emergency room, his hands and shirt stained with blood. Cameron was sitting blankly on the chair, staring straight ahead. Elizabeth had made it to the hospital and was in surgery—

But she was still in critical condition and might not survive.

Another stretcher came into the ER, and Jason could hear screaming and crying even from the waiting room. He put a hand for Cameron to stay seated as Sam was rushed past them, restrained to the gurney, pulling and resisting, her hair whipping back and forth. Drew was with her, tried to follow — but a doctor pushed him back.

Drew turned to Jason, swallowing hard as he took in the blood. “Where—is she—”

“Surgery,” Jason said flatly. He turned to Chase and Jordan Ashford who had walked in after Sam and Drew. “What do you want?”

“To take statements—” Chase began, but Jason shook his head and walked away to sit next to Cameron.

He wasn’t talking to anyone until Elizabeth was out of surgery. A few minutes later, a nurse told them to go upstairs, to the surgical waiting room. Drew looked back at the cubicle, looked at Jason and Cameron.

“I should stay with her,” he told them. “I’m sorry—I just—”

“Come on, Cam,” Jason said, taking the still quiet teenager’s arm and lightly directing him towards the elevator.

As they boarded, Cameron finally spoke. He looked at Jason with loathing. “You should have killed Franco years ago. And Sam never should have been allowed near my mother or brother after everything she did to them. I will never forgive you for this. If she dies, it will be your fault. ”

Jason exhaled slowly, then pressed the button and closed the doors. “I know.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

August 10, 2020

This entry is part 12 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes and no typos.

When Spinelli stepped off the elevator that afternoon, Elizabeth had a pretty good idea what he was going to tell her. His normally relaxed and spirited expression was muted as he approached her at the hub.

“Hey. Can we find a place to talk?” he asked, glancing over at the student nurses behind Elizabeth.

Elizabeth winced, the nodded. “Yeah, I can take a quick break. Sabrina, Felix — if anyone needs me, tell them to page me.”

“Sure—”

She walked Spinelli over to a conference room where she locked the door behind them, not wanting anyone to interrupt them. Her palms damp, she rubbed them against her scrub pants as she turned to face him.

“Well?”

“You were right,” Spinelli told her. He handed a print out to her. “Ellie found the original test in the computers. The markers on the maternity test indicate that the child tested is related to the mother.”

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath as she looked down at the sheet, then frowned. “There’s—there’s more than one test—”

“Because Brad ran three DNA tests,” Spinelli told her. “One for Sam and Danny, then another for Danny with…two other men.”

Her heart began to pound, her mouth was dry as Elizabeth scanned the results — “These are initials—Brad tested Danny against Jason and Franco—”

“And Franco against Jason,” Spinelli finished. “The baby Tea Delgado is raising belongs to Sam, that’s true. But he’s also definitely Franco’s child.”

“And Jason isn’t—” Her fingers tightened, the paper wrinkling in her grasp. She looked at Spinelli. “They’re not related. He’s not Franco’s brother.”

“Which is a relief,” Spinelli admitted. “I know that was weighing on Jason. I mean, there’s a whole lot of questions — why would Heather lie—and what exactly was she lying about? Is there still a twin brother out there or was that all a lie?”

“Oh, man—” Elizabeth exhaled. “Okay. Well—well, I have to—I have to tell Jason.”

“We could do that,” Spinelli said. He hesitated. “Or we could take it right to Sam. Leave Jason out of it for now. That would—that would make it easier for you, wouldn’t it?”

Tears stung her eyes. “Easier yes,” Elizabeth murmured. Because taking the news directly to Sam put Sam in charge of the choices. She could go to Jason, she could elect not to—but to take it to Jason—

It meant Jason could give the news to Sam. To look at her and tell her that the child whose death he blamed himself for was alive.

“But it’s not the right thing to do,” Elizabeth finished. “Because Jason was the one who saw the possibility. And he—he feels so terrible for what happened last year. For not being there for her—”

Carefully, she folded the paper and met Spinelli’s eyes. “Not letting Jason be the one to make up for that—not letting him have the chance to make this choice, to look Sam in the eye and give her back her son—it’s just me not trusting him.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I don’t—I don’t want to be the consolation prize. If I don’t let Jason do this—if I don’t trust him—then it’s like…winning a contest no one else entered.” She bit her lip. “That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“It does. You know Stone Cold loves you,” Spinelli told her. “He always has.”

“Never doubted that,” she murmured. “But love was never the problem.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Thank you for this,” Elizabeth told him. “I’ll make sure Jason knows you helped—that Sam knows it. But I think I need to tell him alone.”

——

She wanted to wait. She wanted to take the rest of her shift—to just close it down and not think about it— what was one more day?

Elizabeth went back to the hub, the test results burning a hole in her pocket. She tried to complete her paperwork, attempted to answer questions for Sabrina and Felix, the nursing students assigned to her—

But she couldn’t.

Holding this truth back because she was scared of what it would do to her and Jason — how was that different than what Sam had done to her once upon a time?

Sam had been desperate to keep Jason, had let Maureen Harper walk away with Jake, and not tell anyone—Elizabeth had lost three weeks with her little boy—three precious weeks she’d never get back.

If she did this to Sam now—if she waited even one more day—was Elizabeth any better?

She took out the DNA results. Stared at them, then reached for her cell phone.

——

Elizabeth waited for him on the roof like she had months ago with the original results. It was colder now—she’d had to stop for her jacket—the bitter December wind made the air feel like ice this high up—

But it felt right. This was there she’d handed him the false results.

Jason closed the roof door behind him. “Hey—” He approached her, dropping a kiss on her lips. “You’re cold—” He took her hands in his, warmed them. “What’s wrong? What’s the emergency?”

“The lab tech I told you—I’ve mentioned that he’s been weird the last few months?” Elizabeth told him. “Always jumpy, always looking at me weird—”

“Did he—” Jason frowned, drew his brows down as his tone chilled. “Did he do something?”

“Yeah, but not to me. I realized—I realized—his behavior started after he ran those tests for me.” Tears stung her eyes, but then froze before they could fall. “So I asked Spinelli to get me the original results.”

Jason blinked, stepped back. “What?”

“Tracy donated a lot of money to the hospital from ELQ,” Elizabeth continued. “And I think—I think she did it so Brad Cooper could keep his job. In return—” She handed him the results. “He gave us fake results. Danny’s alive, Jason. Sam’s son is alive.”

August 8, 2020

This entry is part 15 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 22 minutes. No time for edits or typos.

Shortly after Elizabeth left for Harborview Towers and her meeting with Ric, Spinelli finally had success in tracking the serial number of a phone registered in Sam’s name—

He gave Steven and Jason the address, and for the entire drive to the warehouse located on the docks, Spinelli made sure to let them know it was probably a dead end, that Sam was likely long gone, and he should not be held responsible since he was being asked—

“Spinelli,” Jason said, flatly, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. “Shut up.”

“Shutting up.”

The warehouse had once belonged to Mickey Roscoe, an enemy of Jason and Sonny’s from years ago — a warehouse that Jason and Sonny had then bought and converted into a safe house. No one but Jason and Sonny knew about it.

The fact that Spinelli had tracked any trace of Sam McCall to this address was a sign that she had been there at some point —

He pulled into the parking lot, littered with a few other cars so that the warehouse never looked neglected and completely empty. Jason knew all of those cars — he’d helped move them there after buying them at various auctions —

Except for a plain white Honda parked haphazardly near a back door.

He drew in a sharp break, threw the SUV into park, and looked at Steven. “You ready?”

Steven checked the barrel of his gun, then shoved it into his holster. “Yeah. Spinelli, stay behind us.”

“When did you start carrying a gun?” Spinelli asked as they climbed out of the car. “Am I the only one who doesn’t have one?”

“The last time I gave you a gun,” Jason said, “you shot yourself in the foot and me in the leg. Stay behind us.”

They inched towards the back door, keeping close to the edge of the building. Jason didn’t know what they’d find inside—maybe Sam was dead and Lily was gone again—he wouldn’t put it past Ric to kill her—

And then he heard a woman’s soft voice, the thin whine of a baby.

He stopped—just before the door. Looked at Steven, then down at his gun. If his daughter was inside — would this be her first memory of him? A gun?

“I’ll cover you,” Steven said, understanding. “Let me go first.”

Jason hung back, lowering his gun to his side —

Steven kicked open the door—someone screamed, the baby started crying — Jason came in behind him —

Sam was sitting in on a sofa, her eyes wide and terrified, a little girl clutched in her arms, crying.

“Are you alone?” Steven demanded.

Sam nodded, her cheeks stained with tears. “I—I was supposed to meet someone here to help me get out of the country. B-but I don’t think they’re coming.” She pressed her face into the little girl’s blonde hair.

Blonde hair.

This little girl was supposed to have been Sonny and Sam’s daughter.

Jason stared at her. “That’s my daughter.” Her terrified eyes met his. “Isn’t she?” he demanded, his voice slightly harsher.

Sam’s lips quivered. “I didn’t—I just wanted to be a mother,” she gasped. “He said I could keep her, and I wanted to be a mother—I wanted my little girl—she was dead—but he gave me—”

“So you took my sister’s baby.” Steven scowled, shoved the gun into his holster. “Give me her. Now—”

“Please let me say goodbye—please she loves me—”

Jason stopped Steven from just taking the little girl from Sam. He knelt in front of her, looking at the upset baby—at her face—he touched her soft skin.

“You didn’t call her Lily, did you?” he asked Sam, gently. The little girl blinked, her cries ceasing at his soft voice.

“N-No. I—I—her name is Isla,” Sam breathed. “Are you—please—don’t take her from me—”

“That’s my daughter,” Jason told her. “Elizabeth’s daughter. You made us grieve her for a year, but you know she’s not yours.”

Sam squeezed her eyes shut, then rocked Isla against her for a moment before nodding. “I just couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand it, I love her so much but she’s not mine and I knew it every time I looked at her and saw you—” She kissed the baby’s face.

“I’m tired,” she murmured. “Tired of running. Tired of borrowed time.”

She gave Isla to Jason, then buried her face in her hands.

Jason picked up the little girl, wrapped his arms around her, and pressed his cheek to the top of her soft curls. He looked at Steven. “Call Elizabeth. I’ve got our daughter.”

“On it,” Steven managed, his voice rusty.

——

“Let me live—” Ric laughed. “I’ve always enjoyed your sense of humor.” He sipped his bourbon. “If there was any truth to this—if you’d told Jason what you suspected, I’d be dead, and you know it—”

“Who do you think made sure I got the security footage from our apartment?” Elizabeth said coolly. “Who do you think held my hand while I watched you put the pills into the champagne—”

Ric stared at her. “But—”

“I told Jason not to kill you because I couldn’t stand anyone knowing. Couldn’t stand thinking about it.”

He shook his head, but his confident air had been disturbed. “No—he wouldn’t—I wouldn’t—”

“Some men—when a woman tells them no—” Elizabeth tilted her head, smiled. “They listen. I’m not surprised you don’t understand.”

The phone in her hand buzzed and Elizabeth, never taking her eyes off Ric, pressed the button to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Bits, we got her. Jason’s holding your little girl right now. She’s safe, perfect—she’s beautiful. We’ll be right there—”

“Good. I’ll need a cleanup crew.”

“Bits—”

She hung up the phone, put it in her pocket as Ric scowled. “Clean up crew? For what—stop—”

Elizabeth put her phone in her purse, then removed the gun, and shot him—

Ric still looked surprised as he clutched his chest, staring at her. “You—you—”

“And some men,” Elizabeth murmured as he fell to the ground, and the life bled out of him, “don’t mind letting a woman do her own dirty work.”

August 7, 2020

This entry is part 16 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereads.

“Let’s go to the hospital,” Jason told Drew and Elizabeth as the ambulance pulled out of the parking lot of the motel. “When Spinelli wakes up—”

Elizabeth walked to the passenger side of the SUV and nearly pulled open the door before she saw the phone laying on the ground.

She knew that phone case, of course, because Cameron had begged for it for weeks and she’d reluctantly bought it—why a teenager needed something plastic that cost seventy-five dollars—

“That’s Cameron’s phone.”

In front of her, at the passenger door, Drew touched her arm. “Elizabeth—”

“Cameron—” She picked up the phone—the screen was smashed. “Oh my God—was he in the car?”

“No, we left him in the apartment—” Drew began as Jason joined them. Elizabeth frantically shook her head.

“No, no! He had his phone in the apartment, he loves this stupid thing—he can’t breathe without it—”

“Cameron!” she screamed, turning towards the woods. “Cameron!” She saw a sneaker at the edge of the brush—Cameron’s sneaker—another stupid purchase he’d just had to have—

Elizabeth started to run—

“Get Chase!” Jason snapped at Drew as he took off after her. He had longer legs — it should have been easy to catch up with her but Elizabeth had a brief head start and the adrenaline of a mother whose child was in danger—

Cameron loved that phone—he’d never let anything happen to it—

Elizabeth crashed through the woods, screaming Cameron’s name, not even blinking as branches whipped past her. She stumbled over a root, hit the ground on her knees, wincing before shoving herself back to her feet and taking off again.

“Cameron!”

She stumbled into a clearing—her fall had allowed Jason and Drew to catch up—

Sam stood in the small area, a gun shoved under Cameron’s chin—it was almost laughable—Cameron had shot up in the last two years and was nearly a head taller than Sam—

But with one arm around Cameron’s neck, the other at the trigger — Sam had all the power and she knew it. She must have heard Elizabeth screaming after Cameron in the woods—had stopped—

Or had planned it.

“Sam, what the hell are you doing?” Drew demanded. “What’s going on?”

“Sam—put down the gun,” Jason told her. He edged closer to her. “We can talk about this—”

“Talk about what?” Sam snarled. She lifted her chin. “This is fair. A son for a son! You killed mine, I’m taking yours!”

“That doesn’t—” Drew shook his head, looked at Jason and Elizabeth blankly. “Danny’s alive—”

“Not anymore! Julian won’t donate again! You heard him!” she screamed. “He refused—”

“That—that was a misunderstanding—”

“How is that my mother’s fault?” Cameron choked out. “Let me go, you crazy bitch—”

“Cameron,” Jason snapped. “Don’t talk—”

“Why? No one is asking any questions that make fucking sense—” Cameron broke off as Sam shoved the barrel into his throat.

“I would never hurt Danny. Do you want to test Jake?” Elizabekth asked, her hands up, her voice quiet. “Did you think I wouldn’t—”

Sam laughed, a bitter long, dark sound that caused chills to dance down Elizabeth’s spine. “Jake won’t help. Nothing will help—Jason’s family didn’t match five years ago. Do you know why?”

“It’s—” Jason looked at Drew, but Drew shook his head. He hadn’t been around during Danny’s cancer the first time. He looked at Elizabeth who just frowned. “It’s one of those things—”

“That’s what we thought then—but I wanted to test again—I wanted to test Jake—” Sam’s voice broke. “I found a hairbrush he left when he was t here—a-and it didn’t match—”

Elizabeth’s heart sank as she and Jason traded a stunned glance. “Jason’s not—but—the results—”

“You think I’d get that lucky?” Sam snarled. “You think I didn’t think that? I tested Jason. Jason isn’t Danny’s father!” she shrieked.

Elizabeth sucked in a startled gasp, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh my God. Oh my God—”

“Wait, what—” Cameron’s eyes darted back and forth. “What’s going on—”

“I knew it was a lie—I always knew it was a lie,” Sam retorted. “You all swallowed it, but I always knew he raped me—”

“Sam—” Drew edged closer to her. “Please. Let Cameron go. We’ll figure this out—”

“No! Franco matched! Franco matched! And he refused to help me! He refused! And I thought well I’ll make him, I’ll make him help me! I’ll—I’ll follow him, and I’ll kidnap him or I’ll shoot him—I will make him help me!” Sam screamed.

“But you killed him instead,” Drew said quietly. “You didn’t mean for him to die.”

“I followed him to her house. I knew you were weak,” Sam snarled at Elizabeth who just stared at him. “I waited for him to leave your room—but he didn’t—you made the boys leave—I knocked you out so I could get to him but—”

Her voice trembled. “Franco caught me, and I had to kill him, and it’s your fault—I couldn’t get him out—I had to kill him and now my baby is going to die—” Her fingers trembled. “I had to kill him—if you hadn’t let him—if you hadn’t—”

“He came there to attack me.” Elizabeth swallowed hard. “To force me to take him back. I wouldn’t—I would have helped you,” she said softly. “If you’d told me, Sam. I still can. We can—there are other people we can look for—please, don’t take my baby from me. I can help you—”

“Please, Sam—” Jason locked eyes with Cameron’s terrfied blue ones. “Just let him go—they’ll udnerstand what you did—”

“You protected a rapist all these years!” Sam raged. “It’s your fault! You can’t get away with it!”

“Then shoot me—kill me—” Elizabeth pressed her hands to her chest. “Take your revenge on me, Sam. Not Cameron. He never did anything to you—”

“Mom—no—”

“I’m the one you hate. Who you’ve always hated. Take me, not him—”

Sam’s eyes were wild as she shoved Cameron to the ground, aimed the gun at Elizabeth, and pulled the trigger.

August 6, 2020

This entry is part 11 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereads.

Spinelli knocked lightly on the side of Ellie Trout’s work station, and his girlfriend turned to flash a bright and happy smile at him. “Spinelli!”

“Hey. Hope you don’t mind me dropping by.” He couldn’t quite get past how happy she looked to see him. It was still very strange to him that Ellie liked him, but he wasn’t complaining.

“No problem. On the phone you said it was, like, important, and that it had to be during Brad’s break—so…?” Ellie looked at him expectantly.

Spinelli winced, then sat on the spare tool in her cubicle. “Listen, here’s the deal. I have a friend—who is not a drama queen and dumb about this kind of thing—she is pretty sure Brad is acting very weird around her and it started when he ran a DNA test for her.”

Ellie furrowed her brow. “A DNA test? Those are pretty standard. Why would Brad be weird about it? Other than the fact that he is a major league tool,” she muttered darkly. “I hate him.”

“Duly noted. Uh, well, it turns out that my friend—who works here, making it, like, totally above board and all that good stuff—ran this test for a friend of mine—”

“Spinelli.” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Can you just bottom line it for me? You think Brad screwed up a test. You want me to run it again?”

“Well, that’s the other question I have — is it possible he just—left the original tests in the computer or something and just gave my friend the paper results?”

“Uh…” Ellie frowned. “I don’t know. Electronic results go into the database. Did she look them in there?”

“Yeah—they matched the paper, but you guys have different databases down here and I know—”

“Oh—you mean, like when we literally ran the test matching the sequence—can I pull up those results?” Ellie turned back to her terminal. “Yeah, probably. What’s the patient name?”

“I don’t know. I just have the file number.” He slid it across the table to her. “My friend ran it through the standard system, but, um, I think maybe the actual names weren’t attached to the file.”

“Well, we’ll see—” Ellie tapped a few keys. “Man, I’d love to nail Brad for something. He’s just a dink. He was supposed to be laid off, but noooo, Tracy Quartermaine just had to donate enough money—”

She turned back to him. “Okay, so what I have here is the original sequencer. Looks like he ran a marker test on a—four month old male? Does that sound right—”

“Yeah—”

“He ran those markers against three people—” Ellie squinted at the screen. “Two sets of male DNA and one set of female—”

“Two sets of male—” Spinelli straightened his shoulders. “Are there names?”

“Nope. Initials though. J, D, S, and F. Weird. We usually use numbers. I wonder why he did it like this—I mean, every tech has their own thing and it usually doesn’t matter because it’s our internal system but—”

“Ellie,” Spinelli said with a bit of impatience. “What were the original results?”

“Oh, right! Sorry—so, it looks like D is the son of S and F. Does—does that help?” She looked at him. “I mean—”

“Wait—” Spinelli frowned. “He ran a maternal and paternal DNA marker test? How is that possible? Those two male DNAs should be related—”

“Oh, nope. No one is related to anyone—except, S and F. To D.” Ellie pursed her lips. “Is there a point where I get to know names?”

“Uh…maybe. Can you print that out for me? I need to go, um, deal with this.”

——

Jason rocked back on his heels and studied Sam, uncomfortable to have been caught shopping for Elizabeth’s Christmas present. “No, I, uh, just don’t know what—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you need anything?”

“No. No. I just—” Sam bit her lip. “I felt bad about the last time we talked. At Kelly’s, before Halloween.” She folded her arms. “I had no right to ask you that question. We’re—you know, we signed the papers and everything. I just—”

She looked at the lineoleum tile. “I don’t know. I know you saw me that day with John, and you didn’t say anything about it. And maybe I was mad. Because you hated me spending time with him before and now it’s like it doesn’t matter—”

“I didn’t like it before,” Jason said carefully, “because I knew you were telling him things we should have been handling together. I was angry because I knew I wasn’t treating you well. That I wasn’t there for you. I hated him for being able to help when I couldn’t.”

“Oh.” Sam met his eyes. “Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. Um, you know, that’s part of the reason I don’t like Elizabeth. Like—she always seem to get you and—it’s not that I didn’t—but it always took me longer, and that was—I hated it. And I hated her. Then I hated you, and it just—” She exhaled on a huff of air. “It twisted everything inside, and I don’t know if we ever fixed it.”

“Sam—”

“And none of it really matters now,” she continued, “because we are divorced, and I don’t know, I think maybe it’s for the best?” Her voice trailed up—and he knew she was asking him the question.

Was he sorry their marriage was over?

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” he said after a moment. “That we hurt each other. Back then, a year ago, a few months ago. But yeah, I think it’s for the best. The divorce.”

Sam did a slight double take, and he thought maybe—maybe she’d been hoping for something else.

But he was…happy now. Even if he didn’t know what to buy Elizabeth for Christmas, he’d been happy these last few weeks since Halloween, since the day she’d declared herself the Queen of Regrets and offered him the position of king.

He didn’t want to go back. Didn’t see a reason to.

“I’m dating John,” Sam told him. “I just—I thought you should know.”

“I hope you’re happy,” Jason told her. “That’s all I want.”

“Well, then you’re a better person than me,” Sam confessed. “Because I don’t think I’m ready to wish you the same. Not with her. Maybe one day.”

She walked away, leaving Jason at the jewelry counter. He’d promised to tell the truth and he wasn’t sorry for it. He just wish the truth didn’t always seem to hurt someone.

August 5, 2020

This entry is part 14 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

“There is no way in hell I’m letting you meet with him alone,” Jason snapped the second Elizabeth returned from the hallway.

When Ric had made his demand to meet her, Jason had said no—and she’d left the room to make the arrangements. She wanted her daughter back and didn’t want anyone getting in her way.

“Well, since I didn’t ask for your permission,” Elizabeth retorted, with a flash of irritation, “I guess I won’t have to worry about it. You need to call Spinelli and find Sam. If she doesn’t still have Lily, then she’ll know where she is. Find her. I’ll distract Ric—”

“Elizabeth,” Steven said with a wince as Jason glared at his sister. “That might not be the best thing to do. I think we’re better off tracking Sam as a team—”

“No one in this room gets to tell me how to do anything,” Elizabeth said, stabbing a finger at the three of them. “You—” She pointed at Jason. “Left me in the middle of the night six months ago without a word. And you—” At Steven “—have suspected my daughter was alive for how long? And Kelly—you were my friend—”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I’m done being a victim. I’m done being protected. My daughter is alive. She’s been stolen from us, my life has been destroyed. My husband has been shot and blow up twice, my brother was nearly killed—” She squared her shoulders. “I’m not doing this anymore, do you understand?”

Jason exhaled slowly, then nodded. “You’re taking a weapon. I know you don’t like guns—”

“But you taught me how to use one,” she finished. “I’m sure you can find one I can handle in the next hour. And while you’re doing that, I want you to get Spinelli to track down Sam. Call Justus. Have him on standby. If I have to shoot Ric, I don’t intend to go to jail.”

—

Half an hour later, Damien Spinelli arrived at the safe house with a weapons box and a computer. He looked skeptical about the plan but even he knew that look in Elizabeth’s eye. He handed over the box, sat down, and started to track down Sonny’s former mistress.

Jason unlocked the box and withdrew the smaller handgun he’d bought for Elizabeth after she’d left Ric. “When was the last time you were at the range?” he asked her.

“After you left, Steven took me to recertify my license,” she told him. She took the gun from him, then took the bullets from the box he handed her and expertly loaded it. “He thought I might need to remember how to protect myself.”

“I don’t like this,” Jason told her. She glared at him, but he took a deep breath. “But you’re right. I’ve spent a lot of the last year not telling you anything. Trying not to hurt you. And that’s all that’s happened. I never—” He hesitated. “I never thought there was a chance Lily was alive. I never would have left—”

“I know that.” Their eyes met, held. “I can’t think past the next few hours, Jason. Whatever happens, after today—I don’t know. I just want my daughter back and I want to make sure Ric Lansing can’t ever hurt me or anyone I love again.”

“All right. Let’s go take a few practice shots.”

—

Elizabeth hadn’t wanted to learn how to use a gun, but Jason had insisted. If he wasn’t going to be allowed to kill Ric, he wanted to make sure she could protect herself. In fact, the first time he’d kissed her had been at the gun range, she remembered fondly as she stepped onto the elevator at Harborview Towers and pressed the button for the penthouse level.

She’d been a terrible shot at the first lesson, but the fear and worry and anxiety had somehow disappeared the moment she aimed the gun and pointed it at the target. Steven hadn’t wanted her to learn. Patrick had scoffed. All the men in her life had simply told her no — she couldn’t.

But Jason had given her that security back and taught her how to protect herself. Had bought her a gun she could handle and made sure she knew how to use it.

She would take that with her today because today —

Today was the last time Ric Lansing was ever going to call the shots.

“Mrs. Morgan—” Max blinked when she stepped off the elevator. His face was ashen as he straightened from his perch by the door. “I thought you’d gone back to Boston—”

“I’m here to see Ric. Is there any news about Sonny?” she asked quietly, knowing how devoted Max had been to Sonny and Carly, wondering how this had happened under his watch.

“No, no. No news. Ric’s inside.” Max’s mouth twisted as he said the name. Ric had wanted all the power his brother had wielded, but had never stopped to consider that power only lasted as long as you could control it.

If Elizabeth intended to let Ric live after today, she wondered how long it would be before someone finished him off.

He shoved the door open. “Miss Webber’s here,” Max said.

“Ah, Elizabeth. Close the door, Max,” Ric told the guard as Elizabeth walked in. He sauntered towards her, a tumbler of bourbon in his hand.

“You always wanted Sonny’s life,” Elizabeth murmured. She folded her arms, arched a brow. “Now I guess you have it.”

“I worked harder for it than he did,” Ric said flatly. “Now, we’re here to make a deal—”

“We’re not actually.” Elizabeth lifted her chin. “You stole my daughter from me—”

“I was trying to protect her from Sonny and Carly,” Ric cut in.

“Oh? I must have been mistaken since Carly’s dead, Sonny very nearly is, and you’ve never given a damn about me,” Elizabeth retorted. “Stop pretending, Ric. It doesn’t work with me.”

“Elizabeth, you know I’ve always wanted the best for you—”

“I know who you are,” she told him. “And I have since the night you put those drugs into my champagne, drugged me until I couldn’t consent and raped me. The only reason you’re alive is because I didn’t let Jason kill you. You owe your life to me. Now I want to paid. Give me back my daughter and I might let you live.”

August 4, 2020

This entry is part 15 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

“Damn it,” Chase swore. He looked at Jason. “Do you have that app? Can you track Spinelli’s phone—”

Jason frowned at him, then looked down at the phone. “Uh, no—”

“Yeah, you do.” Cameron snagged the phone from him, his fingers trembling as he navigated the touch screen. “All Apple phone users have it. Didn’t Spinelli set up your phone when you came back?”

He showed the Find Friends app screen to him — “Look, he linked your phone with his.”

“Where does the phone say he is?” Chase demanded, clearly itching to grab the phone. “Where?”

“I don’t know—”

Jason squinted at the screen and then zoomed in— “The only place he might be is that motel—” He looked at Drew, knowing the shared the memory. “Where Danny was born.”

“Okay, okay. What’s the name of that motel?” Chase demanded. “What’s the address?” When Drew reeled off the information, the cop pulled out his own phone and started to cal it in. “Okay, you stay here, and I’ll handle this—”

“The hell we will—” Drew snarled but Chase was already out the door, slamming the door behind him.

“Give him five minutes to get out of the building,” Jason said flatly to Drew. “Then we’ll go. He can’t stop us if he doesn’t know we’re on our way. I’m not—” He looked at Elizabeth and Cameron. “We’ll call you when we know—”

“Not a chance in hell—”

“I don’t want to argue with you about this,” Jason told her. He stalked over to a cabinet, unlocked it with his keys and drew out a set of boxes. He slid a gun into the back of his jeans, looked at Drew. “You want to carry?”

“Uh—” Drew scratched his temple. “Yeah. Sure—” He looked at Elizabeth. “Look, I know you can handle yourself, but you’ve been through enough—”

“How do we know you won’t find Sam and get her out of the country?” Cameron demanded. “Sam needs to get arrested so Mom is exonerated—”

“I get why you don’t trust me—” Drew flinched when Cameron rolled his eyes. “I just want to figure out what set this off.” He looked at Elizabeth. “I know there’s bad blood, I know that—but this is not right. You know that. Something had to have happened—”

Elizabeth frowned. “Last year—when she got sick—she went after Sonny. You think she’s going after me and Franco—”

“I think,” Drew said, with a sigh, “that it’s also because of Danny.” He took the gun from Jason, tucked it behind his back. “We found out before she took off that his cancer was back. I thought she was just having trouble handling it, you know? But then she didn’t contact me. Even to check on Danny.”

“That’s no excuse—” Cameron began but Elizabeth held up a hand.

“That might be true. But I’m still going with you.”

“No, you’re not.” Jason pulled open the door. “Let’s go, Drew.”

Elizabeth scowled and charged after the brothers as they left the apartment. A moment later, Cameron went after them.

He stayed out of their sight, taking the service stairs when they took the elevator. He didn’t know why either Jason or Drew was bothering to argue with his mother. He knew that look on her face —

He reached the street before they did, and found Jason’s SUV parked out front. He quickly went to the other side of the car—then heard their voices still arguing as the trio approached the car.

Cameron waited for the snick of the car lock, silently opened the door, climbed into the back seat—then into the empty space in the back of the car. He sat against the seats, holding in his breath, hoping they’d been distracted arguing.

“You haven’t won an argument with me in twenty years,” he heard Elizabeth snap when the door opened and she slid into the back seat. “I don’t know you even tried it today.”

Cameron sighed in relief as he heard the engine switch on — he’d managed to get in without being detected.

——

“Can you at least wait at the SUV?” Drew asked as they pulled into the motel parking lot. He frowned at the sight of ambulances and police cars. They parked near the entrance, the side of the motel that looked over the woods.

“Why are you still arguing?” Jason asked Drew. He turned off the car, looked at Elizabeth. “Stay behind us.”

“That I can do since you wouldn’t give me a gun,” Elizabeth muttered. SHe climbed out of the car, and Chase was already striding towards them, his face flushed with irritation.

“Can’t you just stay in one place?” he demanded of them. “She’s already gone—”

“What about Spinelli?” Jason asked.

“He’s being loaded into the ambulance now—” Chase gestured in that direction. “Why don’t you head over to the hospital?” He stalked away.

“Maybe she’s still in the area,” Drew suggested.

In the SUV, Cameron slid out of the back seat, silently opening the door, grimacing as he realized that he’d have to show himself to his mother — he hadn’t really thought out this part of the plan —

“Don’t move—” Sam’s voice was hot in his ear, behind him, something hard shoved into his back. “Come with me.”

“Listen — Sam —”

“Or I’ll kill her right here and I don’t care if I get caught.”