Category Archives: Flash Fiction

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.”

August 3, 2020

This entry is part 10 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits or typos.

Elizabeth nervously played with the straw on her iced tea, then looked up with relief when Spinelli finally came in through Kelly’s door. He waved, then weaved through the tables to join her in the corner.

“Trying to be incognito?” he asked. “This must be really top secret.”

“Not top secret—” Elizabeth waited as a waitress came over and Spinelli gave her a drink order. When they were alone again, she continued, “It’s more that I just don’t want anyone to hear. I might be wrong—” She wanted to be wrong. Oh, man, so much. “It’s just…something is so weird and I can’t pretend that—”

“Back up.” Spinelli held up hand. “Whose results are we talking about?” He hesitated. “This isn’t, like, before, right? With Aiden? Or Jake? Like what level are we talking about?”

“A few months ago, Jason was talking with Tea Delgado about her son.” Elizabeth sighed. “This was, um, back in early August, I think. Before the whole water thing. And Tea mentioned that her son—you know, Victor?—he has this genetic illness. An illness that is…common in the Cassadine family.”

She saw the moment Spinelli knew what she was referring to. “Oh. Damn. You don’t mean—”

“Jason thought it was strange. And there were a few other things—namely, that Todd Manning was involved—that it all kind of happened in the same area—that Sam kind of…had a rough time—” Elizabeth sighed. “Anyway—he didn’t get a chance to do anything with his suspicions because—”

“The world went insane for a while?” Spinelli finished. “Yeah, okay. So how’d you get involved?”

“Well, he told me. In the hospital. After Ewen—” She bit her lip. “And I—I know how much he wanted it to be true. He blames himself.”

“Stone Cold does like to make everything his fault,” Spinelli said with shrug. “It’s one of his fatal flaws. You ran the test?”

“I don’t have the ability to just—” She gestured, then broke off when the waitress brought his drink. “I can’t just get a blood test run on my own. Patrick did me a favor, and it went through the system like a normal test. It wasn’t even a full DNA test — just one looking for enough markers. Those are faster.”

“Right, right. Then what?”

“Brad Cooper brought back the results,” Elizabeth said. “He gave them to me, and I gave them to Jason. Unopened—” she added. “I had nothing—I wouldn’t—”

“Elizabeth.” Spinelli shook his head. “I know you. Even if you’d thought about it, you’d never go through with it. So—Jason was the first person to see the results?”

“Yeah, he said that we were wrong, and we just—we put it away.” She bit her lip. They’d put it away and continued on the path they’d already been traveling. Back to each other.

“So why are you suspicious now? What’s been going on?”

“Brad Cooper. He’s acting weird around me—running from me, just being—really shady.” Elizabeth made a face. “I didn’t really know him before the test—but I know—you’re dating that lab tech, right? Ellie?”

“Yeah. She could run the test for you again if I can’t find anything on the main frame—” Spinelli hesitated. “Wait—Brad Cooper? Ellie said something about him.”

“It’s what made me wonder about all of this,” Elizabeth continued. “Because I know Steven was talking to the head of the department — they were going to make cuts. Layoffs. And Brad had only been hired a few months ago. He would have been first in line.”

“But ELQ made a donation after the water crisis,” Spinelli said. “Oh. You think—”

“Tracy Quartermaine,” Elizabeth finished. “Who does not like Sam.”

“No, I, uh, remember vividly how much she does not like Sam.” Spinelli scratched his nose. “You think she found out? Why would she care? It’s not like it was his kid.”

Elizabeth looked at her iced tea, pushed it across the table. She didn’t want to say it outloud, didn’t want to admit that everything she had right now was built on a foundation that was about to crumble.

Because if she was right, Jason was going to be able to give Sam back the child she’d lost—the loss he blamed himself for. And Sam would forgive him.

“Elizabeth.”

She looked up to meet Spinelli’s kind eyes. “You’re doing the right thing,” he said. “And this is how it went down, you’re going to do something really great for Sam. I wish I could do the same for you. I wish I could bring Jake back.”

“Me, too.” She sighed. “I think Tracy knew what we all knew—if Jason had been the reason Sam got her son back—”

“The divorce might not have been finalized.” Spinelli grimaced. “You don’t think that’s still on the table, do you?”

“I think,” Elizabeth said carefully, “that when this happened three months ago, that was a definite possibility. I don’t know about now. I can’t think that far ahead.”

“Okay.” And gratefully, Spinelli did not push her. “Well, I’ve got some good news for you,” he told her. “Ellie hates Brad, so I don’t even need to do anything nefarious. I can just…ask her to look up the test probably, and I can tell from there if it was messed with. Can you get me another set of samples for her to test?”

“I don’t know. That might be harder,” she admitted. “But let’s start with the original test result and see what comes up.”

—

Jason did not like shopping, and normally asked Carly to pick up something he needed. He’d give her a list and his credit card and that would be the end of it.

But he knew if he asked Carly to help him shop for Elizabeth and the boys for Christmas, he’d have to listen to her complain. Asking Michael meant he might tell his mother—

He just wasn’t in the mood.

So he stood at the jewelry counter in Wyndham’s, staring at the tray of necklaces, wondering why it was so hard to pick something out for Elizabeth after all the years they’d known each other.

“She’s not really a necklace person, is she?”

Jason turned around to find Sam standing behind him, a hesitant smile on her face.

August 1, 2020

This entry is part 13 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits or typos.

Jason shook his head. “No. He wouldn’t have killed Carly—” He struggled to sit up, wincing as Steven finished stitching the cut on his leg. “You said—you said you left.”

“He tried to kill me,” Steven said, his jaw clenched. “He came downstairs — raging — I didn’t even know she was dead. I got home and he was less then ten minutes behind me. He threw me against the wall, tried to choke me — I managed to push him. He fell, hit his head—” He cleared his throat. “And I left.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Elizabeth murmured. “I went to your place—it looks like you’d just left. There’s nothing out of place—”

Jason looked at Elizabeth as she stopped talking, and they seemed to realize it at the same time. “Someone cleaned up.”

“You think it was Ric?” Kelly asked. “I mean, he’s done everything else—”

“We think he’s done everything else. I know you think Carly was framed for picking up the bomb, but—” Elizabeth grimaced. “Sonny still ordered them.”

She dragged her hands through her hair. “It’s—we keep running from theory to theory and we still don’t know anything for sure. We know Carly’s dead. We know Sonny ordered the bomb and Carly picked it up, but how we do even know it was the bomb in the SUV?”

Steven frowned at her, got to his feet. “What?”

“How do we know the bomb Carly picked up was in the car? Because the explosives guy died after Jason talked to him? That doesn’t prove anything. The guy might have made another bomb. The only thing we know for sure is that my daughter—” She looked at Jason. “Our daughter is alive. We don’t know how Sam ended up with her. Right now, I don’t care. I want her back.”

She exhaled slowly. “You said she’s probably being moved. Why? I thought Sam left town—”

“Sam moved to Rochester after her daughter was born,” Steven told her. “I called her—and she hung up on me. The next time I called—her number had been disconnected. She went underground right after Carly died. I don’t know where she is, but if Sam is working with Ric—”

“If,” Elizabeth repeated. “I can’t keep doing this, Steven. I can’t keep playing these games. We’re no closer to finding out who planted that bomb than we were a year ago. All I know—I want my daughter. I need—” Her voice broke.

“Spinelli.”

Jason struggled to his feet, pulling out his phone, wincing. The screen was cracked but it still worked. “Let me call him. He found Kelly’s address—”

“That’s how they knew you were there,” Steven snapped. “He told someone—”

“No—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No—that doesn’t make sense. The car exploded after we’d been driving in it—the bomb must have already been in it. They waited until after we’d talked to Kelly.” She bit at her thumb. “Someone was following us. They didn’t need Spinelli to find out anything. They followed us and detonated the bomb. They must have thought you told us something.”

“I don’t know anything,” Kelly insisted. “Except—”

“Except enough to put us on the trail for our daughter,” Elizabeth told her. “They know I went to the hospital. I came straight here. Steven was looking for you. They don’t even need to know what I found out from Patrick.”

“And you don’t think they is Ric?” Jason asked.

“I think that it would be a mistake to say we know who is behind this. Jason—Ric’s been in Port Charles for most of the last year,” she told him. “He didn’t come after you personally in Cairo. Which means he sent someone. This is bigger than Ric. He’s part of it—I’m sure of that. I just—I just want to find our daughter.”

She looked at Steven. “I know contacting Spinelli might make us vulnerable, but I also know if anyone can find Sam, it’ll be him. I think it’s worth it.”

Steven pressed his lips together, then nodded. “Okay. It’s your call.”

“Call him,” Elizabeth told Jason. “Because I think if we find Sam, we might get closer to an answer. She has to know she has our daughter. Otherwise, why move? Why not stay in Port Charles? She’s running.”

Jason nodded, then texted Spinelli to call him on a secure line. As he finished sending the message, Elizabeth’s phone buzzed. She frowned, pulled it out of her pocket, and her face paled.

“It’s Ric.”

“Don’t answer it,” Steven snapped.

“I don’t think I have a choice.” Elizabeth pressed the speaker phone. “Ric.”

“Hello, Beautiful.”

Her skin crawled at his use of the endearment. “What do you want?”

“I hear you’ve had quite a day today. I thought maybe we could discuss a deal.”

“A deal?” she repeated. What a strange thing to say—

“I have something—well, someone—you want. And you have someone I want.”

Elizabeth frowned, looked at Jason. Did he want Jason? “I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple. I’ll tell you where Lily is if you come to see me. Alone.”

July 31, 2020

This entry is part 14 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No type for typos.

Spinelli took a step back from Sam, trying very hard not to look more worried than he actually was. So what if Sam had killed Franco? Franco had needed killing, and Jason had been trying for nearly a decade — but there was something in the look in her eyes that made Spinelli very uncomfortable.

“Uh, okay, well, then I’m glad I know—” Spinelli flashed her a smile he hoped looked casual. “I’ll just be—” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll just be going.”

Sam narrowed her eyes, walked towards him. “Going where?”

“Uh.” Spinelli pursed his lips. “To Portland. To, uh, Ellie and Georgie. My family. They need me, and I’m really getting too old for this crap—”

Sam folded her arms. “You know I did the right thing. Elizabeth will go to jail like she should have for what she did to me, and Jason will get Jake. That’s the right thing. Then Jason and I can pretend none of this ever happened.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Spinelli said slowly, though he wasn’t entirely sure that Elizabeth’s sins against Sam warranted such a drastic revenge considering Elizabeth had largely let Sam get away with all her shenanigans.

Either way, Spinelli very much wanted to make sure that he didn’t give Sam a reason to think that he did not agree with her. Because if he could just…get out of here, he could tell someone who could fix this.

Because this was not a Sam that he knew how to reason with.

“You agree that she deserves it for lying about Jason, don’t you?” Sam demanded. “For trying to steal him from me again?”

Not the time to mention that Elizabeth had actually been lying about Drew — Spinelli just nodded. “Uh, yeah. I mean, we were all mad about it, right? So…this is fair.”

Sam stepped away from the door, studied him for a long moment, then shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Uh, listen—”

She walked over to the nightstand and Spinelli tried to inch towards the door. No quick movements, no fast talking — he slid his phone out of his pocket, behind his back, navigated to his emergency contact lists and hit a random number, hoping it would be Jason because, man, Ellie would not know how to deal with any of this crap in Portland—

“I need to make sure no one knows it was me,” Sam said as she turned back to him, a gun in her hand. Aimed at him.

Damn it.

—

“I can’t just sit here and wait for Spinelli to find something,” Cam said as he got off the sofa and started to pace. “He’s not returning calls—his phone tracker is off—”

Elizabeth pressed her hand to her eyes. She just wanted to go back to the world she’d gone to sleep in — with nothing more than regrets about a bad boyfriend in her thoughts — not this elaborate revenge plot that had put her boys in the middle of it, shoved her past with Sam into the forefront—

She was exhausted by life right now, and the fact that any hope rested on one Damien Spinelli did not give her any optimism.

There was a sharp knock at the door. Diane frowned at it, walked over to it, and opened it, narrowing her eyes at Chase.

“I’m not happy about this either,” the beleaguered cop snapped.

“You’re not taking my son—” Elizabeth stepped in front of Cameron.

“Cameron?” Drew said, looking back and forth between the cop and Cameron whose face had paled. “Why the hell—”

“I’m here because we got DNA results back for blood under Franco’s nails,” Chase told them. He looked at Elizabeth. “It’s a match. For you.”

“For me?” Elizabeth shook her head, looked at her hands, at her arms— “I don’t have any scratches on me—”

“Circumstantial,” Diane sniffed. “They used to be in relationship—”

“No,” Elizabeth snapped at the redhead who scowled at her. “You’re not going to explain this away by suggesting I scratched him during sex. We broke up a month ago. I am not going to lie and say anything differently—” Her throat closed, her stomach pitched.

“Mom—” Cameron put a hand on her shoulder as Jason and Drew both started towards her. The teenager halted them both with a hot look. “Mom, he was trying to hurt you last night. Is it—” He cleared his throat as she looked at him blindly. “We know you didn’t kill him. But maybe—before I got there—it was worse than you thought—”

“Cameron,” Diane hissed. “Don’t—”

“Shut up!” Cameron threw at her. “My mom didn’t kill him! I didn’t kill him! I’m tired of all of this—tired of being protected—I’m not a kid anymore!”

“He didn’t,” Elizabeth managed. She squeezed her eyes. “He didn’t—” She exhaled slowly. “He tried—but he didn’t.”

“If I could?” Chase suggested with a mixture of irritation and discomfort. “I didn’t see any evidence of injuries last night that would have drawn blood the way you’d need to in order get these results.” He hesitated. “We found a pool of blood in the living room. The results aren’t back, but it looks smeared.”

“Someone dragged his hands through her blood?” Drew made a face. “Christ.”

“It’s time to stop protecting each other, Mom.” Cameron found his mother’s eyes. “We were victims. And if Chase thinks someone else was there, we should tell him who it might be.”

Chase lifted his brows. “We’re still working the scene. We might find more evidence to support a third party, but yeah, I’m thinking someone else had to be there. No other way to explain the timeline. Who was it?”

Drew exchanged an uncomfortable look with Jason, started to open his mouth, but his brother got there first.

“We think it was Sam.”

Before Chase could process that, Jason’s phone rang. “It’s Spinelli—” He answered it, putting it on speaker. “Spinelli—”

“Hey—listen, put away the gun, and we’ll talk about it—” Spinelli’s tinned voice echoed in the silence.

“No! There’s no talking!” The shriek was unmistakeable. Then a gunshot rang out over line, and they heard a phone hit the ground.

“What—” Sam’s voice was closer as she came towards the phone. “Is—did you try to call Jason—damn it—” Then the phone clicked off.

July 30, 2020

This entry is part 9 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereads or typos.

Elizabeth handed Patrick a chart with a wrinkle of her nose as she watched one the nursing students drop a huge stack of charts by the vending machine. “I’m trying to remember if I was that bad when I started.”

Patrick frowned, followed her eyes, then shrugged as he looked back at the computer. “Probably. You’re not much better now.”

She narrowed her eyes, then whacked his arm. “You’re a jackass.”

“It comes naturally.” Patrick scowled at the chart in his hand. “Did you take handwriting class from Satan or something? I can’t read this—”

“You’re just getting old,” she muttered, snatching it back from him and read out the medication dosage. “Why are you in such a cranky mood today?”

“Because the world is stupid and I’m tired of it—” Patrick exhaled sharply. “I went downstairs this morning.”

“Downstairs—” She sighed. “To the lab?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been down there in months, and I wanted to avoid it—I usually do. That’s why that weird lab tech is always up here.” Patrick gestured at Brad who had just left the elevator. “They gave her station to him.”

Elizabeth looked at Brad, who looked at her at the same time. His eyes got wide and he immediately turned and sprinted away. She squinted. “He keeps running from me,” she murmured.

“Who does?” her brother asked as he walked up to the hub, set down one chart and picked out another from the tray. “What’s wrong?”

“Brad Cooper, the weird lab tech,” Elizabeth said. She looked at Patrick. “I mean, isn’t he always running from me? What did I ever do to him?”

“Maybe he was running from me,” Patrick said. “I was a little…irritated when I saw he’d moved into Robin’s station.”

Steven hesitated. “I should have warned you, man—”

“No, it’s fine—”

“I don’t think it’s you,” Elizabeth insisted. “He’s been weird around me for, like, months.” She wiggled her shoulders. “Since the water thing—” Then her pen dropped from her fingers.

She could almost pinpoint the day his strange behavior had begun—the day he’d delivered those test results to her.

Sam’s test results.

“Well, maybe that’s it,” Steven suggested. “Everyone’s been a little weird since then—” He tipped his head to the side. “You okay, Bits? You look weird.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked a few times, then focused on her brother. “I’m, uh, fine. I was just, um, thinking about Thanksgiving. You said Mom and Dad are going to Sarah’s this year. Are you coming to the house? Patrick and Emma are coming.”

“That depends,” Steven told her with a lift of his brows. “Is Jason going to be there?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “You mean one of my best friends and whom I’m currently dating? Yes. He will be there. You’re not going to do this again, are you? I didn’t want to hear it on my birthday, I don’t want it now—”

“Well, you love to make the same mistakes over and over again, it’s not my fault that I means I have to—” Steven scowled, looked at Patrick. “Come on, man. You were around for her first round with him. Can’t you talk sense into her?”

“He is not in charge of me—”

“Uh, point of correction—” Patrick put up his finger. “None of us were around for that first round. No one knew it was happening.”

“That—” Elizabeth glared at him. “One, that’s not the point. And Two, not helping!”

“Also,” Patrick continued, giving Elizabeth an eye roll before looking at Steven. “You weren’t around for any of that either. You wanted her to give Lucky another chance which really made me want to punch you.”

“That—” Elizabeth stabbed a finger at her brother. “That is an excellent point!”

“Fine. You be an idiot. I’ll talk to Liv and see if she wants to come, but I think we might be invited to Dante and Lulu’s—”

“Son of a criminal by the way!” Elizabeth called as her brother walked away. “Honestly,” she muttered. She saw Brad step on the elevator. “Hey, Brad!”

He looked at her, and almost in a cartoon manner, started pressing the button faster. Elizabeth scowled, and started over to him — but he was able to get on the elevator before she could reach him.

“Sorry! Send an email!” Brad said as the doors closed.

“This is…not good,” Elizabeeth decided as Patrick stepped up behind her. “I told you it’s me he’s avoiding.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“I—” she sighed. “I have a bad feeling I know why, but I need to check something out first.”

“All right, but if you get arrested, make sure to give me a heads up in case you need bail,” Patrick sighed as they returned to the hub.

——

That night, Jason came over for dinner as he did most nights now, and after Cameron had finished his math homework (with a lot of grumbling and complaining), he decided this was a good time to teach Jason how to play video games.

“Okay, so you press this button—” Cameron said, pointing at something on the controller. “Then this one—”

“Uh huh,” Jason said, looking at it skeptically. “I’m going to be bad at this,” he warned.

“That’s okay.” Cameron pressed play, and sat next to him. “I like to win, anyway. Why do you think I want you to play me? Patrick and Uncle Steven always kick my butt.”

Elizabeth ignored them, reaching for her phone when it lit up with a message.

Happy to help! What do you need?

She bit her lip, looked at her son and Jason playing video games as Aiden cackled in the background—because it turned out Jason wasn’t too bad at the game after all and had already beaten Cameron in the first round of Mario Kart.

She should leave this alone. She’d done what she was supposed to do and had no reason to believe the results had been faked.

But then Elizabeth sighed. She’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t find out for sure.

Can you get into test results at the hospital?

A few minutes later, Spinelli replied. Yeah, but why?

Because I think someone lied to me, and we need to fix this.

July 29, 2020

This entry is part 16 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereading.

Elizabeth hadn’t planned to return to Diamond Springs — ever — but when she’d received the telegram from Jason about Ric’s sentence, she’d asked Patrick to follow up and find out when the execution was planned.

Part of her felt uneasy at the idea that Ric would executed for what he’d done—but there was also a part of her that thought that some people were too evil for the world. If Ric were still alive, maybe he’d find a way to do this again one day. Elizabeth didn’t want to feel like she had any more blood on her hands—not after what had happened to the Lewis family for simply trying to help.

When Patrick had given her the execution date, Elizabeth found herself buying a train ticket and arranging for his wife, Robin, to look after Cameron for a few days. She still wasn’t sure why she was going back until she saw Jason and his grandmother step out of the jail.

He looked at her, blankly, almost in shock as she approached him. Elizabeth frowned when she saw Lila hand something back to him, then walk away. “Is that your badge?” she asked as she reached him.

Jason exhaled slowly, looked down at his hand. “Yeah. Today is my last day.” He rubbed his finger over the gold star. “You—” He looked up, met her eyes. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Not today.”

“I wonder if part of me just couldn’t believe it would really be over. I saw the telegram, and Patrick brought back some newspapers, but…” Elizabeth turned to look at the gallows, at the noose that hung from the strip of wood. “There was no other ending, was there?” she murmured. “Once he was charged with theft.”

“No,” Jason said. “But—”

“He’d only hurt someone else one day,” Elizabeth cut in. “I know that’s true. But I suppose after Alexander and his brother, after my grandfather, Cameron, even my father for all his faults—” She sighed. “There’s been enough death.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, don’t—” Elizabeth touched his arm—just a brush of her fingertips against his sleeve. “He knew the penalty for theft as much as anyone else. He simply never thought he’d get caught.”

“Do you want to—Are you sure you want to watch?” Jason asked. He grimaced as he saw his cousin leading the sullen Ric towards the gallows where the judge and the executioner were standing. Dillon’s face also looked pasty and pale.

“No, I think—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Can we go somewhere? Or do you have to—”

“They won’t notice if I’m not here.” Jason took her arm and they turned their back on Ric Lansing to walk across the street to the house where Jason rented a room. His landlady would normally not countenance an bachelor escorting a woman to his rooms, but Faith Roscoe had never turned down the chance to go to a public execution.

When he opened the front door, he heard the trapdoor across the street drop down and he closed the door—not even looking to see what happened to Ric.

Elizabeth pressed a hand to her stomach as the crowd’s cheers rose. “I’ll never understand it,” she murmured. Jason agreed and led her upstairs to his rooms.

“If you didn’t come back for the execution,” Jason asked, “then why—”

“You’re leaving your job,” Elizabeth interrupted. She licked her lips. “Where are you going? Back to the marshals service?”

“Maybe.” Jason took her hand in his. “I was actually planning to go to San Francisco first. To see you.” He searched her eyes. “I want a chance.”

“I—I came back to see you. To see if there was a way—” She swallowed hard. “I don’t want to spend my life running away. I still don’t know if I can live here, in town, but I don’t want to look back one day and regret—”

He tipped her chin up and kissed her. After a moment, Elizabeth slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He drew back slightly, brushed his fingers over her cheek. “I love you.”

Elizabeth smiled, kissed him again. “I love you, too.”

——

Three Years Later

Elizabeth laughed as her son picked himself up from the mud puddle and brushed at his trousers. “Mama!” Cameron said with a glare. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I didn’t say any such thing, Cam.” She opened the gate to the paddock, the reins of her horse in her hand as she led Penny inside. “I told you to slow down and not to run when we’ve had all that rain—”

Cameron stomped his foot. “I’m gonna tell Papa—”

“Tell Papa what?”

Elizabeth turned, her smile broadening as her husband strode towards her, their two-year-old son in his arms. “Oh, you’re just in time! I’m putting Cameron on Rusty for the first time.” She nodded at the pony tied to the post.

“I’m glad I’m didn’t miss it.” Jason stopped just outside the gate and leaned over to kiss her. “We just came back from seeing Grandma Lila.”

“Candy!” Jake proclaimed with a grin. He had his father’s sunny blonde hair and his mother’s bright smile.

“I can see the chocolate,” Elizabeth said. She looked at Jason again, her own smile matching his. “She can’t help herself.”

“Mama, I wanna ride!”

“Better go help him,” Jason said, “or he’ll skip Rusty and move on to Penny—”

“He wouldn’t—” Elizabeth whirled around just as Cameron stopped, his hands dropping from Penny’s reins. He turned an innocent grin towards his mother. “Cameron Hardy Lewis—”

“Fine,” Cameron said with a huff as he stomped back towards the smaller pony.

“That boy will be the death of me,” Elizabeth muttered as Jason laughed. “And don’t start. I know he’s exactly like I was at that age.”

“As long as you know it.” Jason leaned over to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”