Monthly Archives: September 2020

September 19, 2020

This entry is part 1 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

I am very excited to be bringing this story to Flash Fiction! I had this idea a while ago and workshopped it a bit in my Flash Fiction archives. I’ve always wanted to write the 1999 time period more, but I haven’t really found a place for it to fit into my normal schedule And if Signs of Life didn’t make it into the Flash Fiction category, you might not see this story for another three years.

This story picks up directly after Jason moves out of Elizabeth’s studio in 1999 — after the infamous Christmas Party where Nikolas punched Jason and announced that Jason and Elizabeth were sleeping together. Bobbie came the day after Christmas tell Jason that Liz didn’t need to be known as Jason Morgan’s girlfriend, so he moved out. This begins the next day. I’ll have a more thorough recap if you want it later.

Written in 50 minutes. Time for a basic spellcheck, but not typos.

ETA: I’ll be honest — the PCPD scene in this flash fic entry was written previously. I had a version of it from old draft that I just liked a lot, and didn’t see the point in rewriting it. I cleaned it up and edited it, but everything else is new.

Monday, December 27, 1999

Kelly’s: Kitchen

“I will not get arrested, I will not get arrested,” Elizabeth muttered as she leaned against the brick wall, her eyes closed, counting to ten.

She opened her eyes to see DJ, the cook, staring at her with one dark brow lifted. “You got problems, Lizzie?”

“Problems. Do I got problems?” she repeated. Elizabeth huffed, then straightened. “Do you know what my problem is?”

“Am I going to be sorry I asked?”

“Do you see that crowd of people out there?” She gestured out the serving window where Kelly’s was packed, uncharacteristically crowded for a pre-dinner rush hour. Kids weren’t in school and most of the warehouses were shutdown for the holidays. Kelly’s was usually dead this time of day.

But not today.

Today, someone must have told someone else that Elizabeth Webber, town harlot, was back at work because her shift had started a stampede of people who wanted to look at her. Whisper. Giggle. And wonder what Jason Morgan saw in her.

“I see them,” DJ said. “You should take their orders—”

“Do you think people are lining up to snicker at Jason?” she demanded. “No. Because I’m the woman. He can do whatever he wants—”

—including moving out of the studio abruptly with no warning or explanation that made a lick of sense, then not bothering to even call her today, the first day in almost a month they hadn’t seen each other, bastard couldn’t wait to shake her loose—

“Well, I don’t know, Lizzie, if Jason Morgan worked at a diner, maybe people would be—”

“Oh, don’t help, DJ,” she muttered. She grabbed her order pad and stalked out into the diner, hoping that some of these gawkers would at least tip her well.

They did not. In fact, some of them didn’t tip at all. Maybe, she thought nastily as she bussed a table because Gavin had flaked again, maybe those beach blonde bimbos thought Jason paid for everything because that’s how they would handle dating a sexy, rich—

“You are an idiot,” she muttered to herself. She dumped the tub in the kitchen, then went back out into the diner, wincing when she saw Carly Quartermaine seated at the counter. Of course.

“Are locusts next?” she asked the ceiling.

“Now, don’t you be tempting the Good Lord, Lizzie,” DJ admonished her. “He’ll strike you down for it.”

“He’ll have to get in line,” she retorted.

“Having a bad day, Lizzie?” Carly asked as she picked up a menu, doing her best nonchalant expression. “I guess it hurts to know Jason couldn’t wait to get away from you as soon as everyone knew he was slumming it with you.”

“I actually think I’d be an upgrade,” Elizabeth said with a sweet smile. “But I’ll take your word for it since no one knows trailer trash better than you.”

Carly slapped the menu on the counter, her brown eyes sparking. “You wanna go a round?”

“Today? I absolutely do.” Elizabeth held up a finger. “But I fight dirty. I bite. And you can ask my brother Steven to show you the scar I gave him when I was six. Served him right for cutting my doll’s hair for a pretend surgery.”

And her parents had just laughed at her when she’d cried about it — Steven was going to be a doctor. It was natural for him to practice.

Carly’s scowl deepened, and Elizabeth thought she might actually take her up on the offer — until another figure approached them. Elizabeth winced as she locked eyes with her disapproving grandmother and Audrey’s thin, tight smile.

Carly twisted on the stool. “Oh. Mrs. Hardy. Here to pick Lizzie up for her Girl Scouts meeting?”

“Carly,” Audrey said, carefully. She stepped around the blonde. “Would you mind if I spoke with my granddaughter alone?”

Elizabeth sighed as Carly shrugged and picked up her coat. She’d rather get into a fistfight in the back alley than deal with another round with her grandmother, but Carly slid off the stool.

“See you around, Lizzie,” Carly tossed over her shoulder.

“Say hi to your husband for me!” Elizabeth called after her. Then turned her eyes on Audrey. “Gram, let’s save us both some time. You’re disappointed in me. Very disappointed. What would my parents think —” She waved her hand in the air. “And so on.”

“Actually, I was wondering what Lucky would think.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together as she took that in, the tightness in her chest beginning to ache. “I think,” she said softly, “that Lucky loved me very much. And that he would want me to get on with my life. I’m only eighteen, Gram. I didn’t die with Lucky. No matter how much I wished I had.”

“Oh—” Audrey closed her eyes, shook her head. “Of course that’s not what I meant. But it was such a shameful display at the hospital—how could you—”

“I didn’t do anything. And you know it. I was there to work the party. Jason and I were just talking, and Nikolas started that fight. Jason and I didn’t do anything wrong—”

“When did this start?” Audrey demanded. “Before or after November?”

“Wondering if you have a case at the PCPD? Gonna try to get him on statutory rape?” Elizabeth said, biting out the final word. “Go ahead. Give it your best shot. Wouldn’t be the first time the PCPD couldn’t do anything—” She sighed. “There’s nothing to tell before November—”

“But there is something to tell?”

Another anguished voice cam from behind Elizabeth, and she turned, surprised to find her best friend, Emily Bowen-Quartermaine, standing there. She must have come in the back alley. “Emily—”

“How could you keep this a secret from me? I’m your best friend. He’s my brother!”

Elizabeth was nearly at the end of her rope with this damn day. “I was right, DJ. It’s the locusts—”

“Locusts? Elizabeth, will you never be serious?” Audrey sighed.

“You should have told me!” Emily said, very nearly stomping her foot. Elizabeth looked at the watch on her wrist and sighed in relief

Four-thirty. It was over.

“I didn’t tell you, Emily, because I don’t owe you the details of my life. I choose to share them, but you don’t get to demand anything from me.” Elizabeth untied her apron and shoved it on the counter. “My sex life is my business. Not yours—”

Audrey moaned slightly as she pressed a hand to her head. “Oh, dear God, what would your grandfather say if he were here?”

“Sex life!” Emily repeated, her eyes bulging. “You’re having sex—”

“That’s it. Party’s over,” Elizabeth decided. She stalked past Emily to the back where she’d stowed her coat and purse for a quick get away out the back. “Hey, DJ, what comes after locusts?”

“Darkness,” the cook said, with a sad shake of his head. “But don’t you go temping that, Lizzie. There are bad things in the dark.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Tell me about it,” she murmured, then she pushed open the security door and left the diner.

Elm Street Pier

For half a minute, Elizabeth thought about staking a position on the pier to see if she could run into Jason. She should probably warn him that she hadn’t set Emily straight on the platonic nature of their relationship—

But then she realized that if Emily went over to scream at Jason about something that wasn’t her business, he’d get a small taste of the nonsense she’d lived through that day —

And if there was a perverse pleasure in that, Elizabeth wasn’t going to complain.

Besides, as soon as she came to the top of the stairs, she saw Nikolas Cassadine, her former best friend, sitting on one of the benches.

And her ire only grew.

All of this was because Nikolas couldn’t mind his own business. Couldn’t respect her boundaries. Thought he had a right to tell her what to do—

She sauntered down the steps, and he turned at the sound. He drew his brows together. “Elizabeth,” he said warily. He got to his feet.

Good, he should be worried.

“At what point did I give you the impression that you had any right to tell me what to do?” she asked coolly.

“I know you’re angry—”

“Angry? You humiliated me in front of half of the town,” Elizabeth snapped. “I don’t want you, Nikolas. Get over it.”

His cheeks flushed as he lifted his chin. “That’s not what this was about—”

“No? Could have fooled me. We were friends. Until you tried to kiss me, and I didn’t want it. I don’t want you,” she said flatly. “And I felt really bad about hurting you. But you don’t have that same problem. You didn’t care that you were hurting me, that you were making my life more difficult—”

“If you’re ashamed of your affair,” Nikolas sneered.

“Affair? I’m single, Nikolas. I didn’t die last April, and I am not going to spend the rest of my life alone! If it wasn’t Jason, it was always going to be someone. Just admit it, Nikolas! You’re not mad that it’s Jason, you’re mad that it’s not you—”

Nikolas glowered. “He’ll just hurt you. The way he did Robin—”

“And that would be my business. Not yours. You and I are done, Nikolas. The Cassadine in you really jumped out,” she said. “We’re not friends. Maybe we never were—”

“You know that’s not true—”

“You never liked me,” Elizabeth reminded him. “And I didn’t like you either. Let’s go back to that. I think our first impressions were correct.”

She turned and stalked up the stairs, leaving Nikolas behind.

For good this time.

PCPD: Squad Room

Marcus Taggert was not having a great first day back after a holiday break. He grimaced as he listened to the irritating hold music on the other line. All he wanted was a John Doe floater to be fingerprinted.

Why the hell did everyone keep acting like it was so damn hard? IT wasn’t his fault the body had been dumped in the harbor and so bloated and decomposd that it couldn’t be identified visually?

Did anyone think Taggert wanted to look at those damn photos first thing in the morning—

Taggert scowled at the phone receiver in his hand as if the pathologist on the other line could see him. “Well, can’t you just run the prints? No, no. Don’t give me this bullshit about it being a holiday. That was yesterday. Pick up the stiff’s fingers, roll them in some fucking ink—don’t give me attitude, Carson, or the next person you talk to will be the Commissioner.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I’ll wait.” Never failed. As he waited for the pathologist to return to the phone, he scanned the squad room and noted his partner, Andy Capelli, taking a statement from an increasingly irate Nikolas Cassadine.

When the younger man stormed out of the room, Taggert lifted his brows. “What’s his damage?”

“Oh, he wants me to file assault charges against Jason Morgan,” Capelli said. “Can you believe sweet little Elizabeth Webber has gotten mixed up with that asshole?” he snorted.

“Mixed up with? Like—” Taggert winced. “Sleeping together?” No. Not possible.

“Says Elizabeth confirmed it. He found Morgan with her in a studio her grandmother rented for her birthday a few weeks ago.”

“Well, she’s not the first good woman to see something worthwhile in an asshole,” Taggert said. The pathologist came back on the line finally, and the name had him clenching his teeth. “You’re sure—hey, cut the sarcasm, asshole—yeah, okay, send me over the full autopsy when you’re done.”

He set the receiver down gently in the cradle. “When did Cassadine say he saw Morgan at Elizabeth’s place?”

Capelli glanced at his notes. “Ah, around mid-December. Maybe the 13th. He didn’t remember for sure. Why?”

Taggert pursed his lips and tapped his pen against his desk blotter. “You said there was a fight. Was it that day?”

“Yeah—Cassadine wasn’t talking about that one though. Apparently they got into it at the GH Christmas party, too.” Capelli leaned forward, his dark eyes focused. “You think there’s something to the assault charge?”

“No, I’m thinking about timing. I remember thinking I hadn’t seen Morgan around for a while, and usually I do. We both go to Kelly’s for coffee almost every day, but I didn’t see him around much in December.”

“So, then I guess he was holed up with the Webber girl then—”

“Or,” Taggert said slowly, “she’s been covering for him. The guy at the morgue printed my floater. Anthony Moreno.”

“Anthony—” Capelli closed his mouth and just stared at him. “Moreno. Corinthos and Morgan’s rival. But Morgan’s too smart to dump a body like this—”

“I’m not saying I have all the details worked out. I’m saying that it’s all very interesting, and I’m not sure I buy that Jason Morgan is sleeping with Elizabeth Webber. Not—not like this.” Taggert hesitated. “I mean, everything she’s been through—Morgan—” How did he phrase this so that Capelli would understand?

“Morgan’s protective of her. I could see that the one time I saw them together. I don’t know why she’d be covering for him, but I also don’t believe it’s what Cassadine thinks it is. It’s…it’s worth finding out exactly how long its been since anyone saw Moreno and if Morgan has an alibi for that time period.”

“All right, let’s go check it out.”

Studio: Back Alley

Elizabeth turned the corner and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the motorcycle parked there—and the man sitting on it. Jason Morgan arched a brow at her as she stood there like an idiot. “Hey.”

“Um, hey.” She approached him, folding her arms nervously. “What—why—”

“I was wondering,” Jason said with a light grin that made something in her chest flutter. “Why I got a voice mail from my sister demanding to know why I hadn’t told her about us. Apparently, you wouldn’t tell her because our sex life isn’t any of her business.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips, deciding she needed to answer that question very carefully because truth be told, she was pretty sure she just figured out what it meant to be turned on by someone just saying a thing.

Because Jason referring their sex life—even fictionally—was making everything inside her feel sparkly, and fluttering—and stupid.

And if she opened her mouth right now she might do something insane like ask him to repeat our sex life on a loop for the next fifty years.

“In my defense,” Elizabeth said, “I’m not wrong.”

Jason tipped his head. “Yeah?” His grin stretched even further. “How so?”

“The fact we, uh, don’t have a sex life isn’t relevant.” She met his eyes, then arched her own brows. “It still doesn’t make it her business. Or do you tell your sister about every woman you sleep with?”

Well, that was wildly inappropriate, Elizabeth decided as she watched Jason’s eyes widen slightly. She was nearly ready to apologize and stop this ridiculous attempt to flirt—

Oh my God, was she trying to flirt with Jason Morgan?

But then Jason just nodded. He held out the helmet, and Elizabeth took it from him. “You’re right. And if she was half as irritated with you in person as she was in the message—well, I guess you deserve to have a little fun.”

“That’s what I thought.” Elizabeth fastened the helmet, climbed on the back of the bike. “This has been the absolutely worst day.”

“Cliff road?”

“Fast.”

This entry is part 6 of 9 in the Vlog: Fool Me Twice


Series

  • Fool Me Twice 1: It Starts
  • Fool Me Twice 2: Who’s In This Story Anyway?
  • Fool Me Twice 3: How am I supposed to do this again?
  • Fool Me Twice 4: Picking the start of the story
  • Fool Me Twice 5: Carly Doesn’t Get Slapped Enough
  • Fool Me Twice 6: I’m So Excited!
  • Fool Me Twice 7: I’ve Completed the First Draft. Now What?
  • Fool Me Twice 8: So I lied
  • Fool Me Twice 10: Asking For Help Is Recommended

    • Topic

    In this video, I talked about the flashbacks I’m adding to give more depth to the back story, give you guys a sneak peek into the some of the subplot scenes, and talk about the next step in soundtracking.

    Transcript

    coming soon

    September 18, 2020

    ETA: I just wanted to say that I write these posts before I start my Flash Fiction which means I wrote all of this before I got the news that amazing, legendary, iconic, irreplaceable Ruth Bader Ginsburg has passed away. I was literally finishing up my spell check when my friend Lauren texted me and Ang DM’d me. So I just — I just want to say that I hate this year. I hate the fact that we’re losing these people who matter and that we just–please go vote. We can’t do four more years. We just can’t.  I barely think I can manage a few more months of this. 

    Your Update Link: A King’s Command – Part 3

    Happy Friday! I hope everyone had a great week! In less than three weeks, Mad World: Book 3 will be here! Crazy to think it’s almost ready! On Tuesday, I’ll publish Chapter 51  (September 22), then Chapter 52 on September 29 before publishing the last 23 chapters on October 6. The chapter numbers are continuing from Books 1 & 2, which is why this book starts at Chapter 51 and Book 4 will start chapter Chapter 76.

    I worked on the structure of Book 4’s beta draft to start getting an idea of changes, but I’m really in the early stages because I’m focusing on meeting my editing goals for Book 3. If I keep up at the pace I’m at, I’ll finish the posting draft around September 28, which actually gives me time to do one more read through for any final typos. It’s a really realistic pace — only two chapters a day right now but these first 14 chapters really only had line editing. I think towards the end, where I decided to add or rewrite some scenes, it might take longer so we’ll see.

    Fool Me TwiceFool Me Twice is just about ready to move into the final stage of Discovery which is creating a soundtrack. I’m still refining the flashbacks — I have about eighteen planned, which means I need maybe fourteen more to match one for each chapter. I’m hoping to finish that tomorrow, but it’s okay if it takes the rest of the weekend since soundtracking honestly doesn’t take that long. I’ll have a vlog up for that story tomorrow, and I’m so excited with how this is going. This is the best position I’ve ever been in to start a fresh new draft!

    The last thing I want to mention is that on Sunday, I’ll be writing the final part of my 2001 story, The Ghost in the Girl, which means next week — we’re launching a new story. My original plan was to stay in 2001 and write a bit more but nothing on my drawing board is kind of speaking to me yet. What am I thinking about is going to another time period and starting a new series from earlier in Liason history – either Kismet or Signs of Life. If you have a preference, comment and let me know! I’ve attached their descriptions below.

     

     

    Kismet

    Set December 1997. Jason is the newly minted, inexperienced leader of the Port Charles underground. Elizabeth is the black sheep nursing student at General Hospital. They meet over the bleeding body of Nikolas Cassadine, the victim of a drive-by shooting at Luke’s Club that might have been targeted at Jason. When they both end up at the PCPD, arrested for simply breathing, the attraction between them is immediate.

    But life is never that simple in Port Charles, and Jason has a lot of baggage—an ex-girlfriend he might still be in love with, the ex-friend with benefits who is about to drag him into another crazy scheme, the woman his best friend stood up at the altar on his way out of town, and the controlling family still desperate to drag Jason back home at any cost.

    Can Elizabeth see past all of this drama and give Jason a chance? Or is there just one too many secrets to deal with?

    Status: Not yet Published
    Genre: Romantic Drama
    Type: Novel
    Characters: Jason, Elizabeth, Robin, Carly, Emily, Alan, Monica, Taggert, Brenda
    Couples: Jason/Elizabeth, Jason/Robin
    Signs of Life

    Set December 1999. No one even knew they were friends until Nikolas Cassadine announced Jason and Elizabeth were sleeping together at the annual hospital Christmas Party, and now, suddenly everyone wants to weigh in on the subject. It’s not true, of course, but that’s never stopped Port Charles before.

    At first it’s amusing when her grandmother and his sister pass judgment, but things quickly get serious when Anthony Moreno’s body surfaces in the Port Charles harbor, and their fictional relationship might be Jason’s only chance to stay out jail. Elizabeth can alibi him, and after all, only Bobbie and Carly know he was shot. They’re not telling anyone, right?

    Until Carly decides she needs Jason’s help in yet another desperate scheme, and she’ll use any leverage at hand to make him dance her to her tune.

    Status: Not yet Published
    Genre: Romantic Drama
    Type: Novel
    Characters: Jason, Elizabeth, Nikolas, Sonny, Carly, AJ, Taggert, Edward, Alan, Monica, Audrey
    Couples: Jason/Elizabeth, AJ/Carly

    This entry is part 3 of 27 in the Flash Fiction: A King's Command

    Written in 50 minutes. I did a basic spell check, but as I was finishing up, I got the news about Ruth Bader Ginsburg, so my brain is just — I’m sure I missed stuff. I’m sorry guys.

    After the priest blessed their marriage, and they had signed the registry to formalize it, Jason did not linger in the chapel. Elizabeth scarcely had a moment to look at the countenances of her father and siblings before he took her hand and led her out of the church.

    Elizabeth blinked at the sunlight in the street of the Royal Mile—the sun had climbed higher in the sky.

    “My laird,” a man called, following Jason and Elizabeth. “A moment—”

    The men with her new husband—her mind nearly skittered over those words—turned, their faces fierce and ready to do battle.

    “His Grace, the Duke of Albany has offered chambers at Holyrod for your wedding night,” the man said, flinching as the rough scowls of three Highlanders were leveled at him.

    Jason tensed. “I have rooms at the Red Lion,” he said, “that will do just fine.”

    “The Red Lion—” the man sputtered.

    “Have her father send her things there. We leave in the morning.” Jason turned, his hand still grasping Elizabeth’s, and started down the stone streets.

    Unused to the heavy velvet skirts or the weight of them draped around her, Elizabeth stumbled and nearly fell to the ground.

    “Jason, she’s not dressed for a trek through the streets,” one of the men—a dark-haired man with suspicious eyes—said to him a low tone as her husband hauled her back to her feet.

    “I just need to walk a bit more slowly,” Elizabeth said quickly. “I—’tis not my gown. I—” She fell silent as Jason’s eyes fell on her.

    “Would it be better to take the rooms at the place?” the other man, with fair hair, suggested. “She might be more comfortable—”

    “Oh, no—” Elizabeth shook her head, wincing as her husband’s face tightened. “Please. I do not wish to be any trouble.

    “Are you not a Lowlander?” the fair-haired man asked, spitting out the term as if it were akin to Hell. “Silk sheets and goose feathers?”

    “No,” Elizabeth said quietly. She drew her hand out of Jason’s grasp, her chest tightening. “I am from the Lowlands, but that is not my experience. A cot or even some padding on the floor will do fine. I ask for nothing special. You did—” She chanced a look at Jason’s blue eyes, finding them as frustratingly closed to her as she had the day before, as she had in the chapel.

    It was not until she had taken his hand, until their skin had touched, that she’d been able to glimpse anything. He was a kind man, frustrated at the turn of events. He had not come to Edinburgh to wed and did not want this. He was prepared to do his duty, and she knew he would not hurt her.

    “You did not expect to be looking after a female, I imagine,” she finished in a small voice. “I will endeavor not to be a burden.”

    “Difficult,” the dark-haired man said. “You’re a female. It’s in the description.”

    “Johnny—” Jason snapped. He took a deep breath. “Forgive me,” he said shortly. “These are my men. Johnny O’Brien and Francis Corelli.”

    Elizabeth drew her brows together at the strange last names—Irish and Italian. Unusual to find in a Highland clan. “Hello,” she said uncertainly. She smoothed her hand down the skirts of her velvet gown, a bit dismayed to find the bottom of the skirts had been splashed with mud.

    “We’ll go to the Red Lion,” Jason said finally. “I arranged another room last night,” he told her. “You will be comfortable.”

    She blinked at that, but before she could discover more, he turned back to Johnny and Francis. “And have a care with how you speak to her. She’s your lady and deserves the respect you show my aunt.”

    “Right,” Johnny said slowly, squinting at Jason. “Will she be dunking me in the loch like Lady Tracy? Because I can only take so much—”

    Jason scowled, took Elizabeth’s hand, and the four of them continued down the Royal Mile again. This time, Jason tried harder to match the stride of her shorter legs and was more careful avoid the mud.

    —

    He did not know what to think of his new wife.

    When the regent’s man had offered the comfort and luxury of the palace, Jason had been irritated. He could take care of his clan, and it was better for Elizabeth to learn now what kind of life she could expect as his wife. He expected her to pout and complain when he’d turnd down the offer—

    Only for her to support him, back him up, even when Johnny had suggested Jason change his mind. And she’d barely flinched when Francis and Johnny had all but insulted her as a weak Lowlander.

    When he’d seen her in that velvet gown, he’d been irritated. She was beautiful of course but it was completely unsuitable for a Highland woman. If her entire wardrobe was made up of garments like that —

    But then he’d learned it was not her gown, but a gift given to her Albany—

    His teeth clenched as he showed her inside the dark and dim entryway of the Red Lion. He did not care to be reminded that his new wife had done some service to the Crown that he had not been told.

    She would tell him the truth, Jason decided. She would decide today where her loyalty was to lie — with him or with the Crown.

    Elizabeth looked around the room, her eyes wide and Jason felt as though he was looking at the interior for the first time. It was dark, with low ceilings—he could smell something unpleasant from the public rooms.

    He waited for her to complain, but she did not. Instead, she smiled at him, a slight curve of her lips as she looked at him expectantly, folding her hands in front of her. “Are we taking a meal down here?” she asked softly. “Is that why we’re waiting?”

    “No,” Jason muttered, wishing she would just do what he expected her to. He did not care for surprises. He looked to Johnny and Francis. “You are both to go to her family’s inn. Get her things. If you need to arrange a pack horse—”

    “Oh, that won’t be necessary.” Elizabeth flinched when Jason turned, scowling at the interruption. “My apologies, sir. I only have a few things. They’re—they’re in the vestibule at the church. I—I did not bring much to Edinburgh.”

    “What is much?” Johnny asked suspiciously. “Jason’s sister told me that once, and she had an entire trunk—”

    “There should be a sack in the room where I met with His Grace,” Elizabeth said. “That is all I had with me.”

    “A sack.” Francis cleared her throat. “Well, then, Johnny, we ought to track it down for milady, and take our leave.”

    “You’ll have to send for your things from—” Jason hesitated. “Where are you from?”

    “Annan, in Dumfrieshire,” Elizabeth said, “but ‘tis not necessary—”

    “Why?”

    “Well, ‘tis just clothing,” Elizabeth said lightly. “And I’m told the weather is harsher in the North, is it not? It won’t be appropriate. Why go to the trouble if most of it will not be wearable?”

    He had no answer to that perfectly logical statement. Instead, he took her hand and led her up the cramped staircase. The Red Lion had perhaps not been the best choice for his wife, he realized, as her skirts brushed the sides of the narrow hallway. He pushed open the second room he had arranged for her and allowed her to walk in ahead of him.

    Elizabeth walked into the center of the room, and he studied her reaction to the small room, with its double bed, thin mattress, and night table. Near the window, there was another stand with a bowl for washing up, but the room was spare and not nearly as comfortable as rooms in the palace would have been.

    She stared at the bed for a long moment, then swallowed hard, looking at him. “I understand that this was not your choice,” she said softly. “And I meant what I said earlier. I will try very hard not to be a burden. I cannot say you will not even notice me, but—”

    Jason closed the door behind him, then faced her, crossing his arms. He waited for her to meet his eyes, her own shadowed in the dim light of the room. Little sunlight reached this area of the building and he hadn’t lit any of the candles.

    “What service did you do for the Crown?”

    —

    It had been too much to hope, Elizabeth thought with a sinking sigh, that her new husband would be impressed with her lack of complaints thus far and not inquire about the reasons the regent had wanted to arrange a marriage for her.

    In truth, she was bewildered by the turn of events as well — why had the regent not simply thanked her and sent her home with a caution to her father to keep her hidden?

    Why arrange a marriage to a man that Albany respected and, she sensed, feared, if he did not have some sort of reason? And what excuse could she given her new husband if it could not be truth?

    It could never be the truth. Jason Morgan was not a man to countenance such a curse, she surmised. He might not cast her out or beat her for what she could do, what she could see—

    But neither would she ever be a true wife. He would never allow her to be a part of his family. There might never be children.

    “His Grace told me I was not to speak of it,” Elizabeth said. Her throat tightened as his jaw clenched. “He swore me to secrecy.”

    “Secrecy,” Jason repeated. “And you would keep this oath?”

    “I—I would,” she said in a halting voice even as she broke their eye contact, cast her eyes as the uneven wooden planks beneath their feat. “All I have is my word,” she continued. “Where I come from, a man lives and dies by the strength of his word. If he says something will be done, it must be done. Is it not the same in the Highlands?”

    “Aye, keeping your word is an important thing,” Jason said slowly. He walked towards her, stopping just short. “But it is not as important as loyalty.”

    “I—I am loyal—I will be loyal—” Elizabeth promised. She raised her eyes. “I promise you, Laird, I will try very hard—”

    “You cannot be loyal to me and hold a secret that endangers my clan,” Jason told her, bluntly.

    “It doesn’t—” But tears stung her eyes. It could, and she knew that. She would never mean it, but it always brought her misfortune.

    “This service you’ve done to the Crown—the Duke has not discharged is debt by marrying you to me,” Jason said. “This was not repayment. I am not important enough for that—”

    “I—”

    “This was protection,” he continued. “You have been placed under my protection. And you will not tell me why.”

    “I—I—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, nodded. “Yes. I believe that must explain it. But I gave my word to His Grace. You cannot ask me to break my word.”

    “No, I cannot ask it. Nor can I command it.” Jason returned to the door, opened it slightly, then looked back at her. “But if you will not tell me, then I cannot trust that you are loyal. And I will not have a wife who is not loyal.”

    “I—” All her hopes and dreams extinguished in an instant. Elizabeth stared at him. “You will set me aside already?” she asked, shaking. Her father would be furious—

    “I have been asked to give you the protect of my name and my clan,” Jason said. He opened the door fully, then stood on the threshold. “I swore to the duke that I would see you safe. I never promised anything else.”

    “B-But—”

    “It will be up to you,” Jason told her. “What life we are to live. I will send your things to you when they arrive. Good day, Elizabeth.”

    Then he closed the door.

    Elizabeth stared blindly at it long after he left. If she told him the truth, he would never take her to his bed. Never give her his children.

    But neither would he do those things if she held her tongue.

    What was she supposed to do?

    September 17, 2020

    Hello! Just a quick check in to let you know I’ve posted two new videos on the YouTube channel. One is the Mad World vlog update about the beta draft and the other is my magnum 35 minute opus taking apart the Mike Corbin storyline. As part of the Mike video, I had about an hour’s worth of footage, including 8 minutes of talking the story and my grandmother. I cut three minutes from that section because they weren’t relevant to the story, and I needed to cut a lot, LOL. I’m linking you guys to the 8 minutes as well.

    Still working on the YouTube section of the site, but the writing comes first at the moment 😛 See you guys tomorrow!

    AND! I have an instagram for Crimson Glass! I’ll be posting on the Story & Reels feature and posting new updates there when I can. Follow me there! I haven’t linked the account with the others in the right-hand column yet because I don’t have an icon that matches yet. I’ll get it.

    Mad World: The End Is So Close, Yet So Far (#6) – 8 mins

    Dear General General Hospital, We Need To Talk About Mike – 35 mins

    BONUS – Full Clip – Talking About Alzheimers & Dementia on The Show

    September 16, 2020

    Your Update Link: A Shot in the Dark – Part 3

    Thank you so much for the response to Monday’s Flash Fiction update! I really thought that scene would be harder to write, but I was able to get everything in. I don’t write a lot of Brenda, and I tend to write her a bit more silly and comedic than I probably should, LOL.

    I have a ton of channel updates coming this week — updates for Fool Me Twice and Mad World’s vlogs as well as a new Crimson Suds episode about Mike’s storyline (I’m actually watching a draft of it while I type this post so it might even be up later tonight).

    I finished my read through of Book 3’s beta draft, and I’m happy to say that up until the last few chapters, I don’t need to do more than a lot of line editing. The final two chapters need a lot of work, which I figured since they were a late pull from Book 4’s draft and I was tired towards the end of the process. It was hard to know exactly what I’d need to do with those chapters since I hadn’t reread the whole thing in order since I started the draft.

    So we remain on schedule for the October 6 release date, and I’ll have the first of your two preview chapters next Monday or Tuesday.

    Book 4 is going to need more work than I thought it might, but I really don’t know just how much.

    I’ll see you guys tomorrow with some channel updates, then on Friday with the next Flash Fiction!

    This entry is part 3 of 18 in the Flash Fiction: Shot in the Dark

    Written in 56 minutes. Time for a basic spell check but not a read through.

    Webber Home: Kitchen

    It was a few days before Elizabeth could get Cameron on his own long enough to bring up the topic of adoption which was for the best, honestly, because Elizabeth wasn’t sure how she felt it about it herself.

    Not that Jason wouldn’t be good for Cameron or that either of them would regret it, but she wondered what it said about her that she was willing to literally give Jason one of her boys — both of them really since Lucky barely managed to call Aiden once a month these days — but was hesitating to make any other kind of commitment.

    She’d give him the boys she loved more than herself, but not herself.

    And that was such a strange realization that Elizabeth almost let the whole idea drop, knowing Jason wouldn’t bring it up again if she didn’t.

    Then Cameron trudged in after school on her day off, dragging his backpack by the strap. He let it go in the foyer, then went into the kitchen without a word to her. Elizabeth frowned, followed him, and watched him take out the gallon of milk, pour himself a glass, and get a box of cookies.

    She folded her arms. “Tough day?” Elizabeth asked, leaning against the door frame. Cameron sighed, climbing up on the stool before dunking his first chocolate chunk cookie.

    “Can I move to a new class?” he asked dully.

    Elizabeth walked over to the counter, put the cap back on the milk, then put it away. “What happened?”

    Cameron jerked a shoulder as he crammed the cookie into his mouth. “Emma’s mad at me.”

    “She never stays mad—”

    She thinks I like Joss.”

    Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “Joss? When did that happen?”

    “Dunno. Girls are weird. She got mad at me because Trina hates Joss, and Trina is Emma’s girl best friend, and I think that’s supposed to mean something to me, but Trina isn’t in our class so it doesn’t matter if I like Joss—”

    Elizabeth tipped her head, trying to follow this logic. “Wait, are Trina and Joss still mortal enemies?”

    “Trina swore on blood,” Cameron told his mother very seriously. “Joss’s blood.”

    “Oh—” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. “Do I want to know?”

    “Last year,” Cameron replied. “We were on the playground, and Joss told Trina to brush her hair—”

    Elizabeth winced. “She didn’t.”

    “She did. Trina made that face, too, but then she punched Joss in the face—” Cameron’s mouth quirked up in a half smile. “That was funny. She hit her really hard, then started, like, hopping up and down, because she hurt her hand. Then everyone got in all kinds of trouble—their moms came to school—but anyway—before the teachers stopped it—Trina had Joss’s blood on her knuckles, and swore on it that she’d hate that—” Cameron hesitated. “Well, there were some words I’m not allowed to say—”

    “I get the gist. I guess I missed this,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. She scratched her temple.

    “It’s okay. Joss’s mom didn’t know what the big deal was, so Trina’s mom threatened to sue the school for something, and Mrs. Jacks had to take some sort of sensitivity course. So did Joss. She told me that it’s rude and mean to say things about a Black girl’s hair like she did, but that she wasn’t wrong, so she didn’t mean it when she said she was sorry—”

    “Oh, Lord—” Elizabeth exhaled. “So wait—”

    “Joss gave me that stupid Valentine,” Cameron muttered, “and Spencer told Emma about it, but I’m not supposed to be friends with her anymore, Emma said.”

    “Cam—”

    “But it was forever ago,” Cameron complained, “and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Emma said I was supposed to tear it up in front of Joss so she’d know, but that seemed really mean, Mom.”

    “It does,” Elizabeth said, making a mental note to talk to Patrick — and possibly pass this on to Jason in case Carly was going to get into more trouble at some point. It didn’t surprise her at all that Joss had a mouth on her like her mother.

    I

    And they’d only been in fourth grade the year before—Elizabeth couldn’t even bring herself to imagine what they’d do in high school—

    “So I told Emma that, and instead of not hurting Joss, Emma and Trina are mad at me, Spencer thought it was hysterical, and Joss is always mad at me because of Emma—” He sighed. “I tried to be nice to Spencer, Mom. Just like I told you and Jason. But it doesn’t work. How come I always got to be the good guy? Everyone else gets to be mean and stupid. It works for them.”

    “You never did ask the easy questions.” Elizabeth reached for a cookie, dunked it in Cameron’s milk. “It’s hard to be a good person when it feels like everyone gets rewarded for doing the wrong thing. I get it, I do. But I’ve been on the other side.” She pursed her lips. “Actually, I wasn’t that different from Joss when I was a kid.” Maybe not passively racist, she allowed, but — “I talked back to my parents, I skipped school whenever I could, I smoked—”

    Cameron’s eyes were wide. “Mom, smoking is really bad—”

    “I know, I know. But I wanted people to look at me. And I didn’t care if it was good or bad. I just wanted attention. I was selfish, and I was mean. A lot.”

    “That’s not—” Cameron shook his head. “No. I don’t believe it.”

    “I should put you on the phone with my sister one day.” She chewed her cookie. “She’d tell you about the time I stole test answers in English class and planted them on her to get her kicked out of school.”

    “Mom!” Cameron was scandalized. “That’s really bad!”

    “It is. And it was exhausting being like that all the time. Never having anyone to talk to. The thing this, Cam, when you’re the bad guy — when you’re mean and stupid — you don’t get to have any friends. Not really. I didn’t have a single best friend until I was sixteen.” She sighed, thinking wistfully of those days. Of the Four Musketeers and sharing brownies at Kelly’s.

    “My life isn’t always easy, Cam, and I’m not always happy. Sometimes I still want to do the wrong thing because it’s easier. And it might get me what I want in the moment. But at the end of the day — doing the right thing — being a good person — it’s worth it.”

    “Yeah?”

    “Yeah. I turned out okay, right? I’m not perfect,” she said with a smile as Cameron smiled back at her. “But I do okay. And I’ve got great friends. I’ve got Patrick and your uncle Steven. I had Aunt Emily—” Her throat tightened lightly as it always did. “I have the best boys.”

    “And you have Jason,” Cameron said. He poked out a chocolate chip. “I like having him around. And you’re happy with him. Did you do the good stuff? And that’s why you got to be happy this time?”

    “Yeah,” she said softly. “I did the good stuff. The right stuff. Even though it was hard. Life isn’t easy, Cam. And the right choice is sometimes going to be the worst one. Joss and Trina might be enemies until death.” And since Joss was Carly’s daughter, and Carly still hated Elizabeth because Jason had let Elizabeth help him after being shot, not Carly —

    “They probably will,” she corrected. “But how you treat people is up to you. Would it make you feel better to laugh in Joss’s face? Rip up her card?”

    “No. I don’t like that Emma’s mad or that Trina got mad. She was really mad last year. And she cried. I don’t like that either.”

    “You can’t win all the fights, Cam. Take the hits, get back up, and then live to fight another day.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you. About Jason.”

    “Yeah? Emma said that since I’m the man of the house,” Cameron told her, “that when he wants to marry you, he’s gotta ask me. Is that true?”

    “Well…” Elizabeth squinted. “No. Because you’re eight.”

    “Almost nine.”

    “And being nine won’t give you the ability to grant my hand in marriage either.”

    “Okay.” Cameron shrugged. “So what about Jason?”

    She cleared her throat. “He loves you and Aiden. And me,” she added. “You know we dated a little a few years ago. You were only about four.”

    “I remember. He was around, and then he wasn’t. I thought—” Cameron stared down at the counter. “I thought he was gonna stay. And he didn’t. Why not? He’s Jake’s real dad. Didn’t he love him?”

    “He did—he does love Jake. We will always love Jake,” Elizabeth said. She reached across the island counter, squeezed Cameron’s hand. Waited for him to meet her eyes. “And what happened four years ago—Michael got hurt. You remember? He has that scar. And he was asleep for a whole year. Jason got scared you and Jake would get hurt. So he left. But it was a mistake. We know that. I shouldn’t have let him leave, and he shouldn’t have gone.”

    “Okay.” Cameron frowned at her. “So are you getting married?”

    “No. But back then—Jason was going to adopt you,” Elizabeth said. “So that he would be your father legally. And forever.”

    Cameron looked away, looked down at the counter. “Is…do you want him to adopt me?”

    “That’s up to you, baby. Because this didn’t come from me. This is something Jason suggested. Something he wants.”

    “He—” Cameron swallowed hard. Looked at her again. “He does? Why?”

    “Because he loves you.”

    “But—if you got married, he’d be my stepfather. I don’t—”

    “If you don’t want it—”

    “I—I just—” Cameron blinked hard, swiping an hand under his eyes. “I want it,” he said in a small voice. “I don’t need a dad. You’re awesome, Mom. Just you. But it’d be okay. To have a guy. In case I needed one.”

    “But?” she prompted softly.

    “He…wanted me before, you said. But he left. And I didn’t know him anymore. What—” Cameron shoved cookie crumbs around the counter. “What if he changes his mind again?”

    Elizabeth bit her lip. “Cam—”

    “Or you guys have another baby. You might want another kid. And what if Jason gets a real one?”

    “You would be his real kid—” She paused. “It’s okay to say no, Cameron. It’s important for you to be comfortable.”

    “I—don’t wanna say no. I just—” Cameron sniffled. “It’s just scary to say yes.”

    “I know. It’s a lot to ask. And you know, Jason would answer these questions if you want to talk to him about it,” Elizabeth told him.

    “Can I—can I think about it?” he asked.

    “Sure.” Elizabeth forced a smile as her stomach twisted. Her little boy had the same trust issues as she did. Neither of them had a lot of experience with people who wanted to stay.

    And she really didn’t know what to do with that realization.

    Spencer House: Living Room

    Laura scowled as she scanned the note from Spencer’s teacher, then raised her eyes to glare at her grandson. “Spencer Michael Cassadine—”

    “It’s really not that serious,” Spencer began as he flashed a smile at her. “It’s one little F—”

    “Because you didn’t bother to even start the math test—”

    “I don’t need any of that,” Spencer said scornfully. “I’m a prince—”

    “Not if I don’t let you live to reach eighteen,” Laura muttered as she stalked away from him, towards her ringing cell phone. She hadn’t really raised Luke or Lulu once they’d hit the teen years, but Lucky hadn’t been this mouthy—

    Had he? Luke had always known how to handle him—he’d always been Luke’s son—

    “Hello?” Laura demanded, not bothering to check the caller ID. “I have a nine-year-old for sale if you’re interested. Slightly used, bit of a mouth—”

    “Well, Darlin’, I don’t think that’s a good idea seeing as he’s the Spawn of the Dark Prince.”

    Laura sighed and turned away from Spencer’s eye roll. “Luke?” she said. “What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in months—”

    “I know, I know, I’ve been looking up some things with Cowboy,” her ex-husband said. “That’s why I’m calling. Uh, we—I got myself into something here. And I need you.”

    “You need me,” Laura said. She narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

    “For once,” Luke said carefully, “I feel like I might be on the side of the angels—”

    “That has literally never been true a day in your life, Lucas Lorenzo Spencer—”

    “I’m glad I’m not the only one getting the full name treatment,” Spencer muttered.

    “Now, Laura—”

    “Don’t Laura me. Call Robert. Or Ethan,” Laura retorted. “I have things to do—”

    “Robert and Ethan can’t take care of these things, Angel,” Luke said. “It’s Cowboy. I can’t—I think he needs you. I—I thought I could help. I thought we do this on our own, but he’s—he’s starting to look wrong. Like he did before.”

    Her blood chilled. “Luke—”

    “And Helena’s up to no good. Some serious, serious no good. I just—I need you to come to Greece. I need you to help me with our boy. Before we lose him for good.”

    “I can’t just come to Greece. You need to tell me more—”

    “I—”

    Laura heard nothing but his breathing on the phone for a long minute. “He’s threatening to kill Nikolas, Laura. He thinks Nikolas kidnapped his son.”

    “What?” Laura demanded, her shrill tone grabbing Spencer’s attention. He furrowed his brow, sitting up from his flip on the couch. “Spencer right here—”

    “Not Nikolas’s son. Lucky’s—” Luke paused. “Well, I guess he’s still Lucky’s. On paper.”

    Laura closed her eyes. She put her hand against the back of the sofa. “Luke. You need to tell me everything. Now.”

    Webber Home: Living Room

    Elizabeth frowned as she passed in front of the living room window and saw Laura’s car in her driveway—and Laura and Spencer walking across the front lawn—followed by Patrick and Emma. “Jason,” she murmured.”

    Jason looked up from the dinner table where he was coaxing Aiden to eat his vegetables—he always refused to eat them for her—and got to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

    “I don’t know,” Elizabeth said. She went over to the door, reaching it just as Laura raised her hand to knock. “What’s wrong?” she said to her former mother-in-law. Laura’s face was pale, her eyes looked shocky. And Spencer wasn’t even glowering as the four of them stepped inside.

    “I’ll explain in a minute. I’m sorry just to show up like this—um—” She pressed a hand to her head.

    “She asked me to come over,” Patrick told Elizabeth. “Emma—” He nodded at Cameron. “Cam, Spencer, go upstairs. Don’t kill each other. I mean it.”

    Cameron got warily to his feet, pausing his Mario Kart game. “Mom—”

    “Go upstairs,” Elizabeth repeated. “Please.” Her palms felt sweaty. God, what if something had happened to Lucky? But why would Laura bring Patrick over—

    Cameron start up the stairs, and the bewildered Emma and Spencer followed him. A few minutes later, Elizabeth heard his bedroom door close. She paused, leaned up the stairs.

    “I didn’t hear enough steps over my head—”

    “How does she always know?” Emma hissed. A few minutes later, they heard the door again—and this time, there were steps over Elizabeth’s head.

    “Laura—”

    “I asked Patrick to come over because if—if I’m right—if Luke is right—” Laura twisted her hands together. “You’ll want someone to take care of the boys—”

    Jason lifted Aiden into his arms and came over to stand next to Elizabeth. “Laura, what’s going on—”

    “Luke called me tonight. He needs me to come to Greece because Lucky is there. He’s threatening to kill Nikolas.”

    “I—” Elizabeth started to shake her head, exchanging a bewildered look with Jason because what did that have to do with them—

    “He says Nikolas kidnapped his son. And Luke said—Luke said—” Laura’s voice almost broke. “He said he saw him.”

    “Saw—” Elizabeth’s entire body froze. Her brain simply stumbled to a halt.

    “Laura—” Patrick said.

    “Elizabeth, Luke said he saw Jake on the grounds of the Cassadine estate,” Laura told her. She reached for Elizabeth’s hand as Elizabeth stared at her blankly. “He saw him. Alive.”

    “I can’t—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No—No—”

    “Jake is alive,” Laura repeated, more firmly. “But there’s more—”

    “More—” Patrick demanded, his face pale, his dark eyes stark against the color. “How can there be more—”

    “He saw Jake with Nikolas,” Elizabeth finished faintly.

    “Not just Nikolas. Elizabeth—it’s not just Jake who’s alive. It’s Stavros.”

    “St-Stavros,” Elizabeth repeated, her pulse skittering. “Stavros. Your—Nikolas’s—”

    “Who the hell is Stavros?” Patrick demanded.

    Elizabeth looked at him, as her head felt faint. “Can you imagine someone worse than Helena? Because that’s—That’s who has my little boy” She swayed slightly and Jason shoved Aiden at his grandmother, catching Elizabeth before she hit the floor.

    September 14, 2020

    Your Update Link: Not Knowing When – Part 3

    Happy Monday! In theory, we’re FINALLY on the evening schedule for the weekday updates. In theory. You know my life — it’s weird.

    We’re back to 2002, and I am actually writing this update before I start the Flash Fiction at 7 — a little peek behind the scenes, lol. I type this post before I write so it’s all set up and I can post as close to the time when I finish writing as possible. I mention that because I know what I’m planning to write in about fifteen minutes, but whether or not I’ll get to all of it will be an interesting achievement. I’m really excited at least about the first scene because it was not precisely the plan for this story. This plot element was going to happen slightly later, but then I thought — huh — wouldn’t it be interesting if it happened because of this and not that?

    I know that’s vague. Go read the update, then come back and think about it. It should make sense.

    However, I will admit — I am slightly nervous about being able to actually nail the emotional inspiration I need to truly pull this off, so if you get literally ONE scene in this update, it’s because I agonized over it for 50 minutes, lol.

    ETA: I MANAGED EVERYTHING!!!!! 

    In other news — I am working my way through Book 3’s Beta Draft, making my final round of notes. It’s taking longer than my initial read through back in August despite only needing to read 25 chapters. That’s because this edit is really focusing on word choice and emotional beats. I’m happy to say that in the first 14 chapters — I’ve only found one scene that needs to be entirely rewritten and everything else is tiny changes. If the rest of the story pulls out that way, then I won’t have to put so much energy into the final draft. I have high hopes 🙂

    The Facelift screencapping project is going slower, and I’m gonna be honest — it’s because I’ve hit the section of Liason history where Liz starts to get REALLY annoying about Zander, and I’m just not in the mood. Also, my edits include all of Jason’s scenes that summer and it’s harder to nail down dates because my YouTube playlists are just the Liason scenes, so it’s taking a bit longer. I’ll get back into it!

    This entry is part 3 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

    Written in 55 minutes. Time for a basic spell check but not typos.

    YOU GUYS THIS PART IS WILD AND I CANT WAIT FOR YOU TO READ IT

    Las Vegas, Nevada

    The Chapel of Love: Parking Lot

    Elizabeth might have had a head start, but Jason’s legs were longer and he did more running than she did — he caught up just as she passed the Fountains at the Bellagio, passing in front of her so he could stop her in her tracks.

    Elizabeth scowled and nearly managed to adjust at the last minute to run past him, but he snagged her elbow and dragged her back.

    “Would you just stop!” he snapped. He grimaced when he realized he was almost digging into her forearm with his fingers. He forced himself to gentle his hold and guide her back in front of him. “Just—just let me explain—”

    “Explain?” Elizabeth yanked her arm away from him, cradling it against her chest, her eyes shadowed, almost hidden from him even as the bright lights of the Strip washed over them. “There’s nothing to explain! I am done humiliating myself—I’m getting a cab, I’m going back to Port Charles, and then I am never going to speak to either one of you again—”

    “Why—” Jason hissed as she turned sharply and started towards the street. He should just let her go.

    She was always walking away from him.

    Never giving him a chance to explain.

    Never believing him even when he did—

    After nearly forty-eight hours without sleep, after hours spent in Brenda’s vexing company—Jason finally snapped.

    “Why do you always do this?” he called after her, his tone scathing. “Why did you even come?”

    Elizabeth halted, nearly six feet from him, her shoulders snapping straight. She turned slowly, lifting her chin, her fists clenched at her side.

    “Are you really going to get mad at me right now? I—” She scowled, stalked back. Elizabeth jabbed a finger in chest, the tip of her index finger poking just below his collar bone. “You want to know why I came to Vegas? Why I showed up at your wedding to another woman like this is a bad romantic comedy?”

    Jason narrowed his eyes. “Yeah—I want to know. If you’re not even going to let me explain—”

    “I came,” she bit out with a depth of bitterness that he’d never heard from her before, “because Sonny told me you were hurt.”

    Jason’s mouth closed. He stared at her. “What?”

    “He told me that you were hurt. That you needed—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as if it could protect her. “You needed me. Worse. He told you’d asked for me.”

    He was going to murder Sonny.

    Slowly.

    And he was going to enjoy it.

    Jason drew in a sharp breath. “Elizabeth—”

    “And like the clearly stupid girl that I am—” Elizabeth opened her eyes, tears spilling over her lashes, sliding down her cheeks. Her voice broke. “I didn’t argue. Not until we landed in Vegas, and I realized that none of it made sense. He brought me here because he wanted to stop you from getting married. And he knew if he’d told me the truth, I never would have gotten on the plane.”

    “It’s not what it looks like—”

    “Really?” Elizabeth sneered. “Because it looked like you were marrying Brenda Barrett. How is there any way to explain that? How many times do you have to lie to me before I finally get it—”

    “I have never lied to you—” Jason wanted to drag the words back even as they flew out of his mouth. Once he could have claimed that.

    “For someone who prides himself on honesty,” Elizabeth retorted, “you’re really racking up the lies—”

    “I tried to tell you that there things I couldn’t tell you—”

    “No!” She sliced her hand through the air, the word exploding out of her like a bullet. “No! That is absolutely not going to work. No! Here are the things you can’t tell me—things I would never ask — what did you do at work today? When will you be home? Where did you go?”

    “I—”

    “You do not get to lie to me about the death of your best friend!” Elizabeth shook her head. “No. No, I’m not doing this—” She turned away again.

    “You’re the only one who gets to make mistakes?” Jason demanded as he followed her towards the street. “How many times have you lied to me?”

    Her eyes widened, and she whirled back around. “I—”

    “How many times have you done things that anyone else would find unforgivable?” he continued, the rage boiling in his chest. “You knew Zander had betrayed Sonny. That he was my enemy, Elizabeth, and what did you do?”

    “I—”

    “You took him into your home. You—” He broke off as Elizabeth stared at him. “You slept with him. You asked me to leave him alone—”

    “I thought you—” She swallowed hard, her lip trembling. “I thought you forgave me—”

    “Because that’s what I do. I forgive you. Because, damn it, I love you!”

    The words hung between them as she closed her eyes and Jason winced. That was not—that not the way that should have happened.

    “I don’t believe you,” Elizabeth said softly. She cleared her throat, opened her eyes to meet his. “Because someone who loves me wouldn’t do the things you’ve done—”

    “Damn it—”

    “You sat in your penthouse, you looked me in the eye, and you told me that you wanted to be with me. That you wanted to try—and you lied. And then you kissed Courtney—”

    “What?”

    “And you were just marrying another woman—” Elizabeth gestured wildly at the Chapel of Love a hundred yards behind them.

    Jason clenched his jaw. “And you came across the country because you thought I was hurt. What does that say about you? You love me, too, Elizabeth—”

    “No, I don’t—” she snapped. “Don’t tell me how I feel—”

    “Then don’t tell me how I feel,” he threw back at her.

    “How the hell am I supposed to believe you?” Elizabeth threw up her hands. “What have you done except lie to me for weeks—”

    If he could just convince her—if they could just get past this minute—he could explain everything about Brenda—and he’d fix that crap about Courtney — but she looked ready to bolt at any minute—

    She’d flown across the country with little more than Sonny’s word because she thought he needed her.

    Well, he did. Even though he wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. She was so damn stubborn—

    “You want proof?” Jason scowled, his mind racing. He dragged a hand through his hair, stared at the wedding chapel for a long moment, then looked back at Elizabeth. “I can prove it.”

    “I’d like to see you try—”

    “Come with me,” Jason said, grabbing her hand, then all but dragged her back towards the chapel.

    If she wanted proof—

    He’d make her see that he wasn’t lying if it was the last thing he did.

    Chapel of Love: Lobby

    Sonny pressed the ice pack to his nose, wincing as he watched Brenda examine her nails. “Are you ever going to forgive me?” he asked.

    “You’re going to have to be way more specific because your list of crimes is very long,” she said sweetly. She frowned. “This polish is chipped. I need my luggage. It’s in the car—”

    “And what the hell are you doing in Vegas?” Sonny demanded, out of patience with her. “I came all the way here and all I’ve gotten so far is a busted nose—”

    “That was a thing of beauty,” Brenda started to say, but then the double doors to the chapel opened and Jason stalked in, practically dragging Elizabeth after him.

    Sonny thought Elizabeth had told Jason that instead of taking a minute to protect her after what had happened on the pier, Sonny had lied to her. He got to his feet, bracing himself to get another sock to the jaw—

    But instead, Jason ignored Sonny and Brenda entirely and walked over to the front desk. “I need a new certificate,” he said, flatly.

    Elizabeth’s face drained of color and Sonny saw her muscles bunch. If Jason hadn’t tightened his grip, she might have taken another run for it.

    “Wait—what did he just say?” Brenda asked.

    “Uh, Mr. Morgan—”

    “A new marriage certificate,” Jason repeated. “Now.”

    “Uh—” The clerk blinked rapidly, looked over at Sonny and Brenda, looked at Elizabeth. “Okay,” he said slowly. He set a fresh sheet of paper on the desk. “But it’ll cost you double. You were halfway through—”

    “Put it on the card—”

    “Jason,” Elizabeth hissed.

    “Do you want proof or not?” Jason demanded, and Sonny raised his brows at the sharpness in his friend’s tone. He didn’t think Jason had ever spoken to her that way.

    Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “You think this is proof?” She jerked a thumb at Brenda. “Your last fiancée is right over there—”

    “Oh, well, fiancée is a strong word,” Brenda said, wrinkling her nose.

    “So is wife,” Elizabeth snarled, tossing a dirty look at her. “Stay out of it.”

    “I like her,” Brenda decided.

    “You could find out where they’re registered later,” Sonny muttered. What the hell was going on—

    Jason was ignoring them all as he grabbed a pen and filled out the form, signing his name at the bottom. He shoved the pen at Elizabeth and slid the paper closer to her. “Well?”

    Sonny was sure Elizabeth was going to stab Jason in the eye or something else violent from the way that she looked at him. But then she drew in a shaky breath, signed the form.

    “Huh,” Brenda said with a nod. “Well, at least this won’t be a wasted trip.”

    —

    Elizabeth couldn’t quite decide exactly why she’d signed the form or how she’d ended up in front of the same officiant that had nearly married Jason and Brenda less than thirty minutes earlier.

    She almost felt like she was floating above it all and had been since the moment Jason had bit out a declaration of love like he wanted to hit over the head with it.

    He never got angry with her.

    And when she’d asked for proof—

    He’d gone to find a way to prove it.

    So—

    She married him.

    When the officiant declared them husband and wife and told Jason he could kiss his bride, Elizabeth blinked, looked at Jason, wondering what he would do.

    He gently pressed on her shoulder so that she was facing him, tipped her head back and kissed her, drawing her against him like he had that night in her studio. Tired of fighting it, tired of pretending, of being angry and sad — Elizabeth kissed him back, threading her fingers through his hair, dragging him closer to her, wishing she could just disappear into him.

    She didn’t want to let go, didn’t want the moment to end, because then reality would hit — and he’d realize he’d made a mistake —

    Elizabeth didn’t know if she could bear to see that in his eyes. If she never let him go—never opened her eyes —

    But then there was a slight coughing from the front of the pew, and Jason drew back. Their eyes met as he slowly stepped back, sliding his hands down the length of her body until they rested at her waist.

    She turned to look at Sonny and Brenda in the front row, blinking rapidly.

    “Maybe we should go to the hotel,” Sonny said, getting to his feet.

    Jason glanced behind them to see the officiant offering them a smile and a reminder to pick up the license out front. When he’d left the room, Jason looked at Sonny, his eyes hard. “Don’t ever lie to Elizabeth again. Especially not about me being hurt.”

    Sonny winced, then he gasped in pain as Brenda whacked him hard in the ribs. “Damn it—” he grunted. “What the hell—”

    “You dragged that poor girl all the way here and she thought he was hurt the whole time—I hope your nose heals crooked,” Brenda said. She whacked him one more time with the back of her hand.

    “We’ll meet you at the hotel,” Jason told Sonny. “We’re taking the limo. You can drive there with Brenda.”

    He took Elizabeth’s hand and led her out of the chapel.

    Brenda scowled after him, planting her hands on her hips. “I think he thinks that’s a punishment. You’re lucky I didn’t marry you!” she called after them. “I would have made you miserable!”

    She huffed, looked back at Sonny. “Well, let’s go. I need food and sleep. And a new plan because my best idea just walked out of the room married to someone else.”

    The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas: Owner’s Suite

    Jason shoved the door open and waited for Elizabeth to walk in front of him. She had been silent during the short ride to the hotel that Sonny controlled in downtown Vegas, and Jason hadn’t known how to start the conversation.

    Elizabeth walked over to the large floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the Strip, folding her arms across her chest. The sun was just beginning to rise in the west, peeking out over the horizon in the distance. Jason closed the door, took a deep breath. “Elizabeth—”

    “If you’re sorry already,” she said softly, “can you just…wait to say it?” She looked at him. “Just a little longer.”

    “I’m not sorry,” Jason said roughly. He crossed over to her. He reached out to touch her, but faltered, let his hand drop down. “I don’t really—I’m not sorry,” he repeated. “But I thought you might be.”

    “I’m not really sure what I’m feeling,” Elizabeth admitted. “This is—” She laughed slightly, nerves making the sound shaky and fragile. “This is not exactly what I thought would happen last night when I left Kelly’s.”

    “Me either,” Jason said. He framed her face in his hands, leaned his forehead against hers. “I missed you,” he murmured.

    “I missed you, too.” She slid her arms around his waist and they stood there for a long moment, just letting the silence around them settle.

    “Let’s get some sleep,” Jason suggested. “And we’ll—we’ll figure everything else out later.”

    September 13, 2020

    Your Update Link: The Ghost in the Girl, Part 2

    ICYMI: A King’s Command – Part 2

    Hope you’re having a great weekend! I’m trying to take a bit of a break this weekend — I started rereading Book 3 yesterday and will be working on that later today. I’m editing videos and working on my script for my next Crimson Suds episode — I’m tackling Mike’s storyline and even going to try to edit some clips into it. I’m going to *try* — that should be up tomorrow or Tuesday depending on editing.

    I’ll see you guys tomorrow!