April 1, 2023

This entry is part 15 of 22 in the Flash Fiction: Invisible Strings

Written in 58 minutes.


After learning of Elizabeth’s condition, she reluctantly agreed to step back from some of the new duties she’d assumed in the stables. She personally thought that she could have continued on with little alteration to her activities, but Jason had seemed so worried for her safety that she’d agreed with little argument. And he’d asked her for so little since their marriage had begun, it seemed churlish not to agree.

“Just until you’ve safely delivered,” Jason told her. He tightened his arm around her, the sounds of rain pattering gently against the windowpane. “For my sake,” he added. “I still have a few months left on my term, and I can’t be here every day.”

“I’ve already agreed,” Elizabeth murmured, her eyes closed and her mind drifting towards sleep. “You mustn’t worry so.”

“I won’t.” He would, of course, but he would do a better job hiding it from her, Jason decided as her breathing deepened and the weight of her body tucked against his shifted, indicating she’d fallen sleep. She’d done this once before, and all on her own—though he disliked thinking of her alone with Cameron back East. How had she managed? Had there been anyone to turn to? Had the birth been easy?

It might not be within his power to guarantee that both his wife and their child would be safe and healthy, but surely there were ways to encourage that ending—actions Jason could take.

It was difficult to follow her into sleep, nearly impossible to stop his mind from imagining all the disasters that could occur if he wasn’t there to pay attention. His father had managed this three times, his grandfather twice, and hadn’t Jason’s brother done it as well?  They’d kept their wives from tragedy—

But they weren’t there to ask, and none of Jason’s other acquaintances were fathers. He was on his own.

Elizabeth had suggested they wait a few more weeks before telling his family — it was Lila’s fondest wish for more grandchildren—she wanted to be absolutely sure. And she fretted over Cameron’s reaction. He was a secure little boy, who had taken to life on the ranch and as Jason’s son so easily, one could scarcely remember it had only been a handful of months since they’d met.

But finally, as the stubborn summer finally relented and the days turned towards autumn, Elizabeth and Jason took Cameron into town for their weekly dinner with Lila and Dillon, prepared to share their good news.

Cameron raced into the house, eager only to see his grandmother, but for the treats she ensured were on hand for the little boy. By the time Jason and Elizabeth entered the parlor, Cameron was already sitting at Lila’s side, a piece of a sugar candy in his hands.

“My darlings.” Lila rose and embraced them both, lingering with a hug for Elizabeth. “I’m so happy to see you both. And of course, my little prince.”

Cameron beamed up at her. “That’s me,” he told his parents smugly. “Prince Cameron.”

Elizabeth laughed and sat on the settee across from Lila and Cameron. “Yes, Prince Cameron who must remember to clean up after his new puppy. And his pony.”

“Puppy!” Lila’s eyes sparkled. “I must hear everything.”

Only too happy to talk about the dog that Jason had brought home a week before, Cameron’s excited words kept them occupied until dinner was served. They talked of life on the ranch, Jason’s last few weeks as sheriff, Dillon’s plans to stay on as a deputy, and plans for Cameron to begin school in the spring.

“I know how to read. Mama taught me,” Cameron told Lila proudly. “But Papa says I have to learn how to do lots more so I can have more horses and race them and make them happy and—”

“And it will be good for you to make friends,” Elizabeth added. “Your own age.”

After dinner, Cameron went up to play in the nursery, and they settled back in the parlor, with tea for the ladies, and ale for Jason and his cousin. When his grandmother had served both she and Elizabeth, Jason sent Elizabeth a glance, and she smiled nervously. Nodded.

“Grandmother, Elizabeth and I have some news to share.” He took her hand in his, felt her trembling fingers in his own. Lila looked hopeful, but said nothing. “In May, we think, you’ll have another grandchild to spoil.”

“Oh, oh! I had hoped!” Lila rose to embrace Elizabeth again. “My sweet girl! A baby!”

“Congratulations.” Dillon’s smile was smug, and Jason knew the little brat was taking some credit for the action. “And thank you. You’ve bought me at least another year of breathing room.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Jason told him. “Grandmother will remember you at some point—”

“Sure. But you keep giving her grandkids—” Dillon shrugged and looked back at their grandmother and Jason’s wife, seated together now as Lila pumped Elizabeth for any and all information. “I’m safe for a while.”

“And you shouldn’t worry about anything,” Lila told Elizabeth, patting her hand. “Now, I know you and Jason wanted Cameron to have things here in town, but we have so much furniture and toys left over from the children we’ve raised. You must look through it—”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, likely to agree, but Jason interrupted. “Grandmother, I’ve told you. We want you to have things here. Elizabeth comes to town often enough, and it will be a relief to have somewhere safe for Cameron and the baby.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, her expression a bit mystified. But then she smiled. “Yes. Of course. You’ve been so kind to Cameron, and he thinks of this house as another home. I want all our children to feel that way.”

“Still—” Lila looked almost mutinous but Jason wasn’t going to change his mind on the subject. He wanted Cameron to have his own things. For his children to have their own memories.

“We should get home,” Jason said, interrupting her again. He set his glass aside. “You need your rest,” he told Elizabeth who would never argue with him in front of his family, and she took a deep breath.

“Yes. I get tired easily,” she said, squeezing Lila’s hands. “Thank you for dinner, and for your excitement. I will see you at the meeting in a few days.”

“Bring Cameron,” Lila said as she walked with them to the door. “I don’t see him nearly as often as I’d like.”

“Of course.” Elizabeth hugged his grandmother, but when Lila turned to Jason, he’d already started up the stairs to fetch Cameron. He didn’t want to chance being left alone with Lila just yet — she would have too many questions.

He didn’t want to answer any of them.

The drive back to the ranch was mostly silent, as Jason held the reins and concentrated on the road in front of them. It was just as well, Elizabeth thought. She hardly knew what she would say to him.

Lila had apparently already offered Jason anything he wanted from the nursery prior to tonight, and he’d refused without saying anything. She couldn’t understand his protest — the nursery was filled to the brim with toys, and Elizabeth knew there were more pieces of furniture in the attics. Lila had told her once, with great sorrow, that she’d saved things for her children. For her grandchildren.

Only she’d lost nearly everyone one of them before they could use any of it. She’d had to pin all her hopes and dreams on Jason and Dillon—of course she’d expected Jason to inherit pieces that she’d brought East —

But Jason had refused. Twice. Without broaching the subject with Elizabeth, which meant it was not up for discussion.  Why had Jason refused Cameron access to pieces of his family’s history? And for their own child—

Her hand rested on her abdomen where little evidence of the child could be seen. What reason could there be? Jason had thrown himself into being Cameron’s father after that day in the lake, and he’d never hinted at any unhappiness. Quite the contrary, until he’d rudely refused his grandmother’s offer, Elizabeth had nearly thought herself living in the fairy tales she’d read about as a child.

Had she been fooling herself in thinking there was affection on Jason’s side? She’d wondered at the beginning why a man who had hardly seemed in need of a wife had chosen her, and she’d thought it perhaps was due to his loneliness, for the need of a woman in his bed. But he’d never treated her that way—

She pushed away her worries and fretting. Whatever reason Jason had for refusing Lila’s offer, she would not allow it to affect her marriage. Jason was a kind man, an excellent husband, and a perfect father. There was little reason to invite trouble by asking questions that might bring unhappy answers.

Jason was surprised when, after their dinner, Elizabeth said nothing about Lila’s offer. She didn’t press him or demand an explanation. They tucked a sleepy Cameron into bed and retired to their own room, just as they did most nights, and Jason wondered—hoped—Elizabeth had accepted the reasons he’d given his grandmother.

But Lila was not to be so easily defeated, and on the day Elizabeth went to town with Cameron for the committee meeting, Dillon arrived at the ranch, towing a wagon with a sheet-covered lump.

Jason stood at the top of the porch stairs, a grim expression stretched across his face. His cousin hopped over the wheel, his boots hitting the ground. “Give me a hand with this, will you?”

Jason opened his mouth to refuse, but fell silent when Dillon whipped off the sheet to reveal a cradle. A cradle Jason recognized all too well —

It had been ordered from London, the city of his grandmother’s birth, and shipped to New York as soon as Lila had told Edward of their impending first child. Nothing but the best for Edward and his family. The cradle had been carved by one of the city’s finest artists, and both of Lila’s children had used it.

They’d brought it West with them, first to San Francisco where Jason’s father had inherited it as the eldest son. All three of Alan’s children had called the cradle home for their first few months of life. And then, Jason’s brother had married and inherited.

The last baby to be held secure, to be rocked into sleep was Michael.

It belonged to the eldest son. And now it was here, on the ranch, mocking Jason and reminding him that due to the whims of a capricious fate, he was the eldest son. His brother was gone. His nephew. All dead. Because life was fragile. And the people you loved could be lost without warning.

“Take it back,” Jason said, roughly .Stepping back, he met his cousin’s confused eyes. “Take it back,” he repeated sharply. “And tell Grandmother not to send anything else. I don’t want it.”

March 26, 2023

Update Link: Smoke & Mirrors   | Collect Your Regrets

Hello! This is my last pop-in before regular updates resume next weekend. Starting April 1, Flash Fiction returns! I’m excited to get that back into the schedule.  I’ve been working on hard on Fool Me Twice, Book 2 and the final draft of Signs of Life. I ended up deciding to add a bunch of material to Signs, so I’m putting off posting it until I’m done. I’ll bring it back shortly with more regular updates. I wrote a chapter of FMT this morning, and as soon as I finish this update, I’m off to write another one. I definitely feel like I’m starting to hit the groove there, and hope to finish Act 1 in the next week, possibly two.

This week’s bonus is the last draft of Smoke & Mirrors I worked on in November 2021 for NaNoWrimo. I’ve been working on this AU premise for YEARS at this point — I can remember going to my practicum in the fall of 2017 and making notes, but I still haven’t quite nailed the world building and characters. I think this version is the closest, and there’s a lot that I like here, but I’m still unhappy with Anna’s character. I think it’s too far out of actual character for her, and you know that kind of thing bothers me, lol. But I want the trio of Robin, Elizabeth, and Nadine as cousins, so  don’t have any easy to fix this. I have some thoughts, but it’s huge obstacle at the moment, so please don’t hesitate to let me know.

I’m so glad so many of you liked Kismet! I was so happy with how it was turning until I hit a storyline snag with Jason and the organization. I don’t know the 90s stuff as well as the 00s, so it’s been harder to write. I’m planning to do a rewatch of the summer of 97 to do some research so I can fix that and get back to it.

The other file, Collect Your Regrets, was a quick compile of my Scrivener folders for my trio of Flash Fiction series where I rewrote three Liz stories: the maternity lie, Jake’s return, and Tom Baker. I was asked by a mutual on Twitter for a PDF copy so she could read on vacation, so I figured I’d post the link for everyone. It’s SUPER messy without any real chapter breaks, but if you want it in one space, enjoy.

See you guys next week for Flash Fiction!

March 19, 2023

Update Link: Kismet, Prologue – Chapter 4

I need someone to slap my immune system, so it wakes up. I got sick AGAIN this week, but thankfully, it was just a head cold that cleared out after a few days. Still, the irritation of it all.

Anyway! I’m still writing, still making progress, but I haven’t had a chance to edit chapters of Signs of Life — I figured I should concentrate on Fool Me Twice, which is what I did. But I hate not having anything for you guys to check out, so I dug out Kismet, the NaNoWriMo project from last fall. I think my opening chapters are some of my best work, and I’m looking forward to digging back into this at some point this summer.

This is the Prologue and Chapters 1-4. I wrote two and a half more chapters, but most of the changes I need to make are in those chapters, so I figure this will hold you over 😛 It’s around 54 pages. I left it in PDF form because I want to go write FMT.

Some notes about Kismet — It begins with a prologue on the day of Sonny & Brenda’s wedding, and it uses actual dialogue from the Jason/Sonny scene with some tweaks, and refers to a scene that happened the night before. Jason’s story is mostly the same, but Liz has a new background (still a Hardy/Webber but aging her up means some new aspects to her backstory). I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

March 9, 2023

Update Link: Signs of Life – Chapter 8

Hello! I didn’t mean for my posting hiatus to take quite so long. Thank you for the patience and we’re back to updating Signs of Life more regularly. Since March 1, I’ve been back to working on Fool Me Twice and doing writing sprints during the week live on the Crimson Glass YouTube channel in the evenings. Flash Fiction will be back on April 1:) See you guys in a few days with more Signs of Life and news.

This entry is part 8 of 41 in the Signs of Life

Don’t say what you’re about to say
Look back before you leave my life
Be sure before you close that door
Before you roll those dice
Baby, think twice

Think Twice, Celine Dion


Saturday, January 1, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Bedroom

The sky behind the shades was still a grimy gray when her eyes drifted open the next morning. Blearily, she focused on the clock sitting on the table — it was just after six. Hmmm, maybe she should just go back to sleep.

She was so wonderfully warm and comfortable—not a sensation she was used to since she’d moved out of her grandmother’s house. The mattress was soft and plush, and she was wrapped in a cozy cocoon of comforter and—

Elizabeth’s eyes snapped wide open as she took in the feeling of weight behind her, and an arm slung over her waist, holding her against a furnace of heat. Jason. Jason was holding her against him, his hand resting loosely over her abdomen. She could feel all of him. Every single inch, and—

And she was fine. She was comfortable. She wasn’t scared. Elizabeth closed her eyes as a shudder slid through her and tears stung her eyes. She’d dreamed of this so often—first with Lucky, and more recently with Jason and now—

She felt him tense behind her and that hand started to jerk back. She reached for it, lacing her fingers with his. “No, um, not yet.”

“I’m sorry, I—” His voice was rough with sleep. “I didn’t mean—”

“I’m okay.” She released his hand and twisted until she was flat on her back and Jason was resting next to her. He sat up slightly, propping himself up on his elbow. “Really.”

His eyes searched hers, doubting. Or maybe just worried that she was covering it up. Elizabeth bit her lip, then slid her hand up his chest—over the soft cloth of the t-shirt he’d worn to rest at his collarbone. There was a flicker in his eyes when her fingertips brushed his bare skin and she realized—

He hadn’t been lying the night before. He really did—he found her attractive. Desirable. He liked when she touched him. And she liked knowing it.

Feeling brave, Elizabeth tugged his head down to kiss her. His legs were brushing hers under the comforter, so she slid her one of hers between his, and he tensed. She could even feel his heart pounding against her chest. She’d done that to him.

Fragile and damaged her ass.

“Good morning,” she murmured when she pulled back, her cheeks flaming.

“Good morning,” he managed. “I guess you slept okay.”

Elizabeth laughed then. “Oh, yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”  He kissed her again, lingering for another minute. “I hate to get up,” he admitted.

“Me either, but I have to work,” Elizabeth said with a grimace. “And I know you have stuff to do.”

He paused and she wondered if he was going to suggest they both blow things off for a few hours—she’d like to explore just how comfortable she really was—but then the cell phone on his side of the bed vibrated. With a scowl, Jason rolled away. “It’s Sonny,” he said with some surprise. “I need to—”

“I’ll get a shower. I need to stop by the studio before work to get clothes,” she reminded him as she moved towards the bathroom and left him alone with his phone call.

Maybe this would work after all.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“Isn’t this a little early?” Jason asked Sonny as Max closed the door behind him. “It’s barely six—”

“Some of us haven’t been to bed yet,” Sonny muttered. He stalked towards the kitchen. “I need coffee. You want some?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Heard from Roscoe a few hours ago,” Sonny said, dumping some beans into the grinder. “He says Sorel is denying the bomb was on him.”

Jason scowled. “I don’t even know why you’re bothering to ask him,” he muttered. “Of course he denies it. She said it was Sorel—”

“Because that’s what the man on the phone said. But she doesn’t know him.” Sonny held up a hand when Jason glared at him. “He might be telling the truth. It might not be Sorel.”

“Sonny—”

“It could be guys who worked for Moreno wanting us to take Sorel out.” And at that, Jason fell silent. Sorel’s takeover of Moreno’s organization wasn’t a done deal, and he knew there had been issues. Shipments that didn’t make it to port, guys going missing —

And if it was true—if it hadn’t been Sorel ordering the bomb, then it put Elizabeth in the middle of a civil war with another organization. That was the worst possible scenario. “Damn it—”

“I spent half the night with the guys tracking down everything. Paulie went to our explosives contact with the bomb. He can’t tag the maker from it — it’s generic.”

Jason grimaced. A bomb that couldn’t be traced made it harder to pin this on Sorel. “So we don’t know anything.”

“Well, if what was said to Elizabeth was true, Sorel and his guys know about you being targeted by the PCPD and Elizabeth’s role in it. That Christmas party—it put you two on the map,” Sonny continued. “No one knew where you’d been in those weeks, but Nikolas Cassadine made it very clear. Apparently, after we left, Stefan confronted him and Nikolas told him—in front of witnesses—he’d caught you at the studio.”

Jason exhaled slowly, then leaned back against the counter. “Am I supposed to keep Elizabeth locked up in the penthouse until we do know—”

“We need this PCPD crap to go away. I think Elizabeth should take herself out of this by coming clean about the whole thing. You were right to make sure she didn’t alibi you. She needs to tell them she saw you and then you left. She doesn’t know where you were the rest of the night. Sorel’s guys can’t go after her for what she doesn’t know.” Sonny poured the coffee, avoiding Jason’s eyes. “The thing is—”

“If she does that, Taggert’s coming right at me. I dropped out of sight when Moreno did. He’ll know Elizabeth is involved in that, thanks to Cassadine.” Jason took the cup of coffee from Sonny but set it on the counter. “We have another problem,” he said, reluctantly.

“Of course we do,” Sonny muttered. “What is it?”

“Carly.”

Sonny’s hand fumbled slightly as he spooned sugar into his cup. “What about her?” he said evenly.

“She’s making noise about telling the cops I was shot. She does that and Elizabeth makes sure the PCPD know I have no alibi—”

“Why the hell—” Sonny whirled on him. “Why is she doing that?”

“She wants me to get her out of town with Michael.” Jason scrubbed a hand down his face. “She’s insisting I go with them. I told her no, and I don’t care if she goes to the PCPD about me, but—”

“But Cassadine has put Elizabeth with you in the same time period you’d be recovering. She’s on the hook as an accomplice. It’s circumstantial, but it’s a distraction we don’t need with all of this—”

“I talked to Alexis—she’s worried they might come after Elizabeth with drug charges. For the pain medication,” Jason admitted. “I’ve been thinking about it—Carly made Bobbie come to the studio one day and Bobbie and I talked about it. I said I’d only used pain meds the first day, but that Elizabeth flushed the rest. I don’t know if Carly heard it.”

Sonny stared him for a long moment, then nodded. “Well, there you go. All Taggert has to do is hear that, charge Elizabeth with distribution which carries like twenty years if they want to be bitchy about it. She’ll have to flip on you to save her own skin, but somehow I doubt she’d go that way without kicking and screaming—”

“Sonny—”

“The only way to make this go away is to get one of you out of town.” Sonny paused. “Or both of you, but that will just make it harder for you to come back. With just one of you gone, we got a shot of this going cold.”

Jason said nothing. He knew Sonny was right. To keep Elizabeth from being used by Carly and Sorel’s organization, Jason needed to remove himself from the situation.

“I know this isn’t what you want,” Sonny said slowly. “And I’m sorry. I should have taken the meeting—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jason said flatly. He could do this job if he didn’t think about that morning. If he didn’t remember how it had felt to watch Carly coming down the stairs in Sonny’s shirt or the way Sonny had tried to spin it like he was doing Jason a favor—

He had considered leaving town before his relationship with Elizabeth had changed, but after last night—

“Jason—”

“I gotta think about it,” he said. “It’s not that easy.”

“No, I know—” Sonny closed his mouth.

“I need to go. Elizabeth has to work, and I want her to get some things from the studio. If I—” He hesitated. “If I go, I want her to stay here. At least until you know it’s safe. She might argue, but I’ll figure that out—”

“I’ll make sure she’s safe, Jason. She’s in this because of me—”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” And with that, Jason left the kitchen wondering how the hell he was going to explain to Elizabeth he probably needed to leave Port Charles, probably for good.

Quartermaine Mansion: Bathroom

Carly dipped her hands into the cool water streaming from the faucet, then splashed it over her face.

She hadn’t heard a word from Jason.

She would have thought he’d get the picture pretty quick. Either Jason went with Carly, or the little bitch was going to pay the price. How was he going to argue with that?

He was angry at her now, Carly considered as she looked at her reflection in the mirror over the sink, but once she had him to herself — once they were away and they had Michael with them—

He’d remember that he loved her. Hadn’t he told her that only weeks ago? Elizabeth Webber was a distraction, Carly assured herself. Jason was only a man, and the waif probably made him feel better after the year he’d had. Carly had even meant what she’d said to her the day before — she really did feel sorry that the girl had been raped so young.

Not that there was ever a good age for it, Carly decided as she went back into the bedroom and wandered over to the walk in closet. But to be violated that way before you even got a chance to experience how good sex could be? Tragic.

Carly didn’t mind if the waitress used Jason to get back out there, but her generosity only went so far. Jason was hers. He’d forgotten that for a little while, but she could remind him. When it was just the two of them, she’d lure him back to bed.

She’d get pregnant, Carly decided. She’d find out when she was fertile—maybe some of those ovulation tests or—

And just like that—her brain skittered to a stop.

It was January 1.

And she was late.

“Oh, God. Please, God, no.” Carly closed her eyes, pressed her hands against her face. “Oh, no. No. No.”

Kelly’s: Kitchen

“Hey, DJ. Table ten is still waiting on their order,” Elizabeth said as she untied her apron. She tossed it on the hook. “Penny’s taking over my section, but—”

“I got you, Lizzie,” the cook said affably. “You look better today. Must have been one of those bugs going around.”

“Yeah, must have,” Elizabeth said with a weak smile. She wasn’t sure she shared DJ’s optimistic outlook — she and Jason seemed to have resolved the issue of their non-existent sex life, but he’d been strange when he’d come back to Sonny’s that morning.

He’d been quiet, Elizabeth remembered as she cashed out her receipts and separated her tips. Not that Jason was ever much of a talker, she considered, but there was quiet and then there was quiet.

When she went out into the alley, she realized she was almost surprised to see Jason there, the engine on the bike idling. She’d half thought he’d make an excuse and send her home with Francis.

“Hey.” She accepted the helmet from him, but didn’t put it on right away.

“Hey,” he said, returning the greeting with a half smile. There it was again—that flicker of something in his eyes. She didn’t know him well enough yet to know what it was—but she could tell something was not okay.

Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip, then pulled on the helmet. Maybe he’d just had a bad day.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason dumped the keys on the desk when he came in, Elizabeth trailing behind him. “We need to talk,” he said finally after he’d taken her jacket and hung it up with his. Anything to stall and keep his mind away from the conversation they needed to have.

He didn’t want to do this, he realized now as he looked at her standing in his living room. This place was too big for him and he’d only come to stay there because the cottage had been too painful. Too many memories of Michael. But he liked seeing Elizabeth in this room—in his bedroom, waking up with her.

He’d wanted more of that. Instead, he had to tell her he needed to leave Port Charles. That this had to end.

“Okay.” She folded her arms. “Um, what’s going on?”

“A lot,” he admitted. “I don’t really know where to start.” Jason paused. “I guess with the most important part — we don’t know for sure that Sorel put the bomb in your studio. I know the guy said it was him—” he said when she opened her mouth, “but it could also be—it’s complicated. Long story short, we need to get you off Sorel’s radar.”

“Okay, but I don’t know how that—” Elizabeth stopped, swallowed hard. “Off his radar,” she replied softly. “What does that mean?”

Jason looked away from her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You need to go to the PCPD and tell them that I dropped you off around midnight. You didn’t see me the rest of the night.”

Elizabeth drew her brows together, puzzled. “I don’t understand. That leaves you without an alibi. How does that get me off the radar—”

“Because the PCPD won’t be coming after you for a statement anymore,” Jason continued.

“But then they’ll go after you—”

“I know, but you won’t be something Sorel or his guys can use. He can’t scare you into not giving me an alibi if I’m telling you to do the same thing.”

“Oh. Well, that doesn’t sound great for you,” Elizabeth said slowly, “but that doesn’t sound so bad. You had me—” Then she closed her mouth. “That’s not everything, is it?”

“No,” Jason admitted. Uncomfortable, he walked over to sit on the arm of the sofa. “Carly gave me an ultimatum yesterday. I turned it down,” he continued, “which is why she went to you. But I can’t ignore the threats. They’re about you. And Bobbie.”

“About us?” Elizabeth blinked. “What was—Jason, I wish you’d just tell me what’s going on. You’re making me nervous. Are you breaking up with me? Is this what’s happening? Is that what she’s making you do—”

“She wants to disappear with Michael. She’s demanding that I go with her,” Jason continued. “If I don’t do it, she’s going to tell the PCPD that I was shot—and turn you and Bobbie in as accomplices.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? She’s going to throw her own mother under the bus? I can’t—” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, God. If she tells the PCPD that you were shot and I make sure they know about you not having an alibi—Jason—that’s bad. For you. I can’t go to the PCPD—”

“You have to,” Jason told her. “And you need to tell them everything. You need to tell them that I threatened you.”

“Wait—”

“Because Carly is going to tell them that you gave me pain meds. She knows you did. She might not remember it, but if she makes a statement, Taggert will make sure she goes over every detail. Bobbie and I talked about it when she was in the room. So you need to tell them I threatened you—”

“There’s no way in hell—first of all, I made you go to my studio, and I went to Sonny—” Elizabeth shook her head. “I am not going to testify against you—”

“I won’t be here to go on trial.”

She stumbled to a stop. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m going to leave,” Jason said. “Before any of this happens. With any luck, if I’m not here to go after, Sorel’s men will back down on the alibi, and Carly—”

“Let me get this straight,” Elizabeth said, clenching her jaw. “You think these are our choices? One, you stay and I throw you under the bus to save myself and you end up in jail, or two, you leave Port Charles, and Carly will somehow not take that out on me?”

“Wait, what?” Jason shook his head. “No—”

“Yes,” Elizabeth cut in, slicing her hand through the air. “You’ll leave, and Carly will know you did it to get away from her. She won’t blame herself, she’ll blame me. And maybe even Bobbie, but mostly me. And she’ll be furious at you. Carly’s going to do this thing whether you’re here or not, Jason. Only if you’re not here—” Tears stung her eyes and he just stared at her in shock. “Why are you giving up?”

“I’m not—”

“This happened last night! And you’re already—you’re probably half-packed, aren’t you?” Elizabeth accused. He cast his gaze aside, and she scowled.

“Elizabeth—”

“You’re going to run away and leave me and Bobbie to deal with Carly? How is that fair?”

He hadn’t thought about it that way—he’d just thought if he took himself out of it— “Elizabeth—”

Her voice faltered. “You have to leave me, too. Or doesn’t that matter? Is it that easy to walk away from me?”

“No!” He didn’t know how to walk this back, how to fix this. It had seemed so simple when he and Sonny had talked about it. If Jason wasn’t here—the situation would cool down. “No, I don’t want to leave you. If it weren’t for you—” He’d be dead right now. She’d dragged him back into the world of living—how couldn’t she— “I’m doing this to protect you. To keep you safe—”

“Safe.” Elizabeth laughed, a jagged, harsh sound he didn’t recognize from her. “Sure. Okay. Tell yourself that. Fine.”

“There’s no other way—” He stopped because to say that to her was a lie. There was another way that might work, but — “Anything else — it’s a risk and it just keeps you in the middle of it—”

“So there is another way and you’d rather leave? How am I supposed to take that, Jason?”

“It’s—I mean it, it’s asking too much—”

“You don’t get to decide what’s asking too much. If it keeps us both in Port Charles, out of jail, and together—” Her eyes burned into his. “Or isn’t that important to you?”

“It is,” he insisted. He took her hands and pulled her towards him. “You know it is. I just—” Jason paused. “There’s no guarantee it would work, and we might be right back where we started.”

“Then at least we’ll say we tried everything. Jason—”

“If we were married, we couldn’t testify against each other.”

February 18, 2023

Hey, just checking in with an update on my status. I got really sick this week — even sicker than when I had Covid. I ended up with a version of a strep throat that doesn’t show up on rapid tests, so they missed it at first. By the time I had a diagnosis, the infection had caused literally the worst fever of my life. I spiked to 103.9 and it wouldn’t come down for a while. I was literally miserable from Tuesday night until maybe two hours ago (Saturday around 6 PM). The worst of the fever broke yesterday, but the throat pain has been literally unbearable.

I’m completely behind on literally every piece of my life. Thanks to the plumbing back up last week and getting sick, it’s been three weeks since I did laundry, I’m completely backed up on house chores, on work–it’s a huge mess, and I’m hoping I can start to pick at it this week. I’m on a four day break (so I still have off Monday) so that’ll help as long as I feel okay tomorrow and get some sleep tonight (which I haven’t managed more than an hour or so at a time in four days).

I honestly need to get all of that sorted and get things back under control before I can think about writing. The first two months of 2023 have not gotten off to a great start – I’ve spent a lot of time sick, which is really frustrating.

So I’m on a teeny hiatus from things for a bit. Definitely the rest of February.

While you’re waiting for me to come back, don’t forget the huge backlog of novels! I’m gonna link a few of my favorites in case you want reread or check them out for the first time.

  1. The Best Thing – Choosing this one first because I finished it six years ago this month, and it’s my favorite Sonny story.
    1. Set in Winter 2004. Sam died giving birth to her daughter and left custody to Jason, whom everyone believes is the father. He and Elizabeth reconnect over the next year as he struggles to keep his promise to Sam while balancing his loyalties to Sonny and Carly. Even as they fall in love, a dangerous power struggle is building that threatens every one in its path.
  2. Bittersweet – Has some of my favorite Liason scenes I’ve written 🙂
    1. Set in April 2002. After walking out on a disastrous wedding and unhappy relationship, Elizabeth Webber promised herself a fresh start. She moved into Bobbie’s Brownstone with Gia Campbell as an unlikely ally, and befriended AJ Quartermaine’s new wife and Sonny Corinthos’ long-lost sister, Courtney Matthews. When Carly Corinthos goes missing after a car accident at Vista Point, Jason Morgan is forced to return to Port Charles, testing Elizabeth’s resolve to put all her bad decisions behind her. AJ begins to plan for a custody battle for Michael Benson which pits brother against brother, and putting Elizabeth right in the middle.
  3. Mad World – an obvious choice. the most ambitious thing I’ve ever written
    1. Set in Summer 2003. One night in June, Ric kidnaps Carly and locks her in a panic room, drugging Elizabeth to cover his tracks. Before long, Port Charles is embroiled in scandal, corruption, and trauma that hits home for everyone. It will be a long time before anyone forgets Ric Lansing’s reign of terror or the evil simmering beneath the surface of the city. An ensemble series that basically rewrites the entire show from from 2003-04 with nearly every character showing up at some point or another.

February 12, 2023

Update Link: Signs of Life – Chapter 7

I swear, the universe has something against me. Last week was absolutely horrid. The kids were insane, the faculty meeting stole all my energy, and then four days into our fundraiser, we got told we couldn’t sell candygrams so we had to switch out for pencils and stickers (and organize refunds), and THEN my pipes backed up AGAIN for the fourth time in two years. So I had to spend the entire weekend dealing with that, and now I have to plan my life around my sewer pipe getting dug up sometime in the next few weeks to fix whatever the fuck is happening. There is literally nothing on this planet that I don’t hate right now.

Anyway. The schedule for the last seven days has gone to hell, but I’m determined to reset tomorrow and get back to work.

This entry is part 7 of 41 in the Signs of Life

Is that why they call me a sullen girl, sullen girl?
They don’t know I used to sail the deep and tranquil sea
But he washed me ‘shore, and he took my pearl
And left an empty shell of me

Sullen Girl, Fiona Apple


Friday, December 31, 1999

Harborview Towers: Hallway

“Wait here,” Jason told Elizabeth as they stepped off the elevator. “I need Sonny to get guys to your place.”

“Okay.” Feeling exhausted, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. She couldn’t think about it yet. Couldn’t really understand how it had happened — in less than five minutes —

“They did what?” she heard Sonny demand. Then he appeared around the corner, following Jason. “Elizabeth, you okay? What the hell?” Without waiting for her to respond, he turned back to the guard on the door. “Get a team to down there. Grab Mikey and Paulie. They got explosives training. I want to know if that was a dud —” He turned back to Elizabeth. “What happened?” he bit out. “How did you find the bomb?”

“Sonny—” Jason began.

“He called me,” Elizabeth said at the same time, her voice faint. Jason broke off and looked at her, stunned. “I got home from work and maybe two or three minutes later, the phone rang. He said he was Joseph Sorel. I heard something at the door, and then I couldn’t open it. I couldn’t open it. Then he told me to look under the table.”

Sonny hissed. “He was watching you.”

“I guess so. There was a bomb under the table. And while I was looking at it, the timer started. Five minutes.” Elizabeth lifted a hand up, intending to rub her temple, but it was shaking. Instead, she curled it into a fist. “He told me that if I promised not to alibi Jason about that night with Moreno, he’d tell me how to deactivate it.”

“That doesn’t—” Jason narrowed his eyes. “It wasn’t on a remote timer then. He couldn’t stop it.”

“Risky as hell,” Sonny muttered. “If it was a live—” He bit off his words. “What happened then?”

“I realized it wasn’t a bomb he could turn off, so I hung up on him,” Elizabeth admitted. “I didn’t think it was a great use of my time. Then Jason called — but when he told me the studio was blocked—”

“Back and front—they’d nailed boards to the front,” Jason said, flexing his hands.

“I didn’t think he’d make it in time, so I hung up on him, too,” Elizabeth said with a wince. “I thought about going out the window—”

“That’s four stories down to the alley—” Jason began, clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, so I piled a bunch of stuff in front of the bomb and then hid in the closet. I thought it might block some of the shock waves.” She rubbed her fist against her collarbone, restless. “I read that somewhere.”

Sonny grunted. “Not a terrible idea. Would it have worked?” he asked Jason.

“I don’t know. I got through the door and heard her in the closet. I didn’t stop to look.” Jason paused. “Is that all Sorel said to you?”

“That’s all I gave him a chance to say,” Elizabeth said. “I’m sorry—”

“You did the right thing,” Sonny said with a wave of his hand. “We’ll get some guys down there to look at it. I’ll go supervise,” he told Jason. “You get those hands taken care of.”

“Yeah—” Jason paused. He looked at Elizabeth. “Can you go inside? I’ll be there in a minute.” He reached into the pocket of the jacket she still wore and drew out his keys. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, well, no, but I can manage,” she clarified. Her fingers fumbled as she slid the key into the lock, but then she went inside and closed the door.

She was tempted to press her ear against the door, but she knew she wouldn’t need to do that. Jason and Sonny would make sure she was safe, but she knew she’d made a mistake. She hadn’t taken Jason’s safety concerns seriously, and—

She went over to the sofa, sat down, and clung more tightly to the jacket. She was such an idiot.


Back in the hallway, Jason looked after Elizabeth, his brows pinched together. Was she okay? Was she angry at him? She was going to change her mind, he decided. This wasn’t what she wanted—

“Jason.”

Jason blinked, realized Sonny was looking at him. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat, flexed his hands again. Now that some of the adrenaline was fading, he could feel the stings. “What were you saying?”

“Something about this feels wrong,” Sonny repeated. “Sorel calling her? Leaving her a warning? And then the bomb doesn’t go off?”

“There’s also the chance that he meant it to go off and it didn’t. Which means he tried to kill Elizabeth,” Jason said. He swallowed hard. “Because of me—”

“Don’t go there yet,” Sonny warned him. “He wanted her to refuse to alibi you. Whether the two of you are together or not — that doesn’t change the fact that she’s involved. People know it. The PCPD has her in their sights over all of this. Moreno and her part exists either way.” He paused. “You’re scared, but this isn’t the first time people you know have been targeted because of you.”

But it was the first time with Elizabeth. “Sonny—”

“Don’t be stupid, and don’t do anything you can’t take back. You could walk away from her,” Sonny said, and Jason grimaced, “but it won’t change anything. Don’t make my mistake. Sorel had guys watching that building. Guys who just saw you rip your hands apart and bust down doors to get her out.”

“I know all of that,” Jason retorted.

“Okay. Then I’m going to go see what I get from the studio.” Sonny jabbed the elevator button. “Get those hands looked at,” he repeated. “And make sure she’s okay. You’ll feel better when you know she is,” he added.

Jason watched him step on the elevator, and then looked back at the penthouse. He took a deep breath and headed for the door.

Elizabeth was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the television that wasn’t even switched on. She turned when he came in, rising to her feet. “Um—” She stripped off the jacket and handed it to him. “I forgot to…”

“It’s okay.” He tossed it on the desk, then went to the closet for the first aid kit. He really didn’t know what to do or say to her. He had that ridiculous conversation with Alexis rolling around in his brain, the threats from Carly — and now Elizabeth was standing in the penthouse, a place she clearly didn’t want to be after a bomb had been set in her home.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I—you didn’t want me to be at the studio tonight. You asked me not to go back there.”

Jason remained silent, setting the kit on the desk. That was true, but he also knew if she’d run into Carly — Carly had a way of making people do destructive things. “It’s okay,” he said finally.

“It’s not. You need to know that I know it’s not. You—you need to be able trust that I’ll do what you need me to do with things like this. With safety—and your job, I mean.” Her voice was shaking, but the words made sense to him. “I was going to do that. I was just—” Elizabeth faltered. “I was going to do it tomorrow. Emily had plans tonight, and I just—”

“Didn’t want to come here,” Jason finished. He cleaned off the last of the blood on his hands, then started to close the kit. Instead, Elizabeth came forward to grab it.

“You didn’t clean—” Elizabeth bit her lip and reached for his hands. “It wasn’t about not wanting to come here,” she finished. “I mean—” She took one of the antiseptic pads and pressed it against a particularly nasty gouge in his palm.

“Then what was it about?” Jason asked. “I’m not mad,” he reassured her when she didn’t reply. “I didn’t think the safety thing was such an issue,” he admitted. “If I thought things were bad enough there’d be a bomb, I would have said something. I’m not mad,” he repeated. “I just want to know what I did wrong, so I don’t do it again.”

“Nothing.” Her eyes flew up to meet his. “Nothing! It’s just, um, I thought—staying at the penthouse for a few days—I thought it would mean—” She bit her lip, color staining her cheeks. “I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that—”

Jason started to frown because he didn’t really understand, but then with her next words — “I was going to talk to you about it, and then Carly—”

“Carly,” he muttered. “I knew it.”

“She just…I don’t know. She just has a way of saying things that get in your head,” Elizabeth said in a quiet voice. “Things you know aren’t true the way she means them, but they are a little bit—”

Knowing some of the vile things Carly had spewed to Robin in the past, Jason steeled himself. “What did she say?”

When Elizabeth started to pull back, he wrapped his hands around her wrists to keep her in place. “Elizabeth.”

“She just reminded me that I’m not…” Elizabeth looked away, broke eye contact as a tear slid down her cheek. “I’m not…I can’t—I don’t know if I’ll ever able to trust anyone—even you—because of what happened to me.”

Jason stared at her for a long time, trying to absorb it—trying to wrap his head around all the implications. Elizabeth had been nervous about the penthouse because she thought it meant he expected sex, and then Carly—

“What,” he said, “exactly did she say to you?”

“Why does that matter?” Elizabeth asked. “I just told you—”

“We’ll talk about that,” he told her. “Because that’s important, but I can’t—she came to me first,” he said finally. “And when I didn’t give her the reaction she wanted, she went straight to you. I need to know what she threatened you with.”

“Threatened—” Elizabeth’s eyes were wide. “Is that what she did to you?”

“Yeah. That’s something else we need to talk about,” he admitted. “But she did, didn’t she? She threatened you.”

“Not—not in so many words—” Elizabeth tried to edge away again.

“We need figure it out, Elizabeth—”

“This is just like that night at Vista Point,” she muttered. “You just keep pushing—fine—fine—” She twisted until he released her hands. “Fine. She reminded me that I’m fragile and I’m damaged, okay? Because I don’t like sex, and according to her, you do. Which just means you’ll go back to her when you get bored. Happy now?”


Jason just stared at Elizabeth as she stalked across the room, her back to him. Fragile and damaged. If that’s what Elizabeth had taken from the confrontation with Carly, it meant that somehow, Carly had thrown Elizabeth’s rape in her face and used it to make her feel less.

He exhaled slowly. “Elizabeth,” he began, not having the slightest clue what words he would use to follow that.

“Let’s just not talk about it,” she muttered. “I don’t want to.”

“I get that.” He waited. He knew he couldn’t leave it like this. “So let me talk and then we can drop it, okay? You don’t even have to look at me.”

“I won’t.”

Fair enough. Okay, so now what? “Carly has an idea of who I am,” he said finally. “Based on how we met. It was only a few months after my accident, and I was still—I don’t know. I was understanding how things worked. She thinks that because I had sex with her while I was interested in Robin that it gave her power over me—and Robin.” And it was humiliating to recount that, to remember how Carly had used that knowledge to try to lure him back to her bed. How she had used it to hurt Robin.

And he remembered that Robin had forgiven him even when he hadn’t really deserved it.

Now Carly was doing it again to hurt Elizabeth. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes. He couldn’t.

“I don’t know why she still thinks that’s true now,” Jason continued. “Robin always knew I couldn’t be Michael’s father because Carly and I haven’t been together that way in three years.” He paused again. “Yeah, I like sex, Elizabeth. That’s not something to be ashamed about.”

“I didn’t mean—” Elizabeth turned to him now, her voice quiet. “I didn’t mean you should be—”

“I know that.” Relieved that she was looking at him now even though she was still across the room, Jason took a step towards her. “You’re not fragile or damaged—”

“Really? You’re not living in my head, Jason, okay? I know—” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her torso. “I know what goes through my mind when we’re together.”

“You’re right. I can’t tell you how to feel about yourself.” And knowing she felt both of those things—that Carly had forced them on her again just to get herself out of trouble—it left a sour taste in his mouth. “I can only tell you how I feel about you. I know you’re—I know you haven’t been with anyone. You told me that about Lucky—”

“I mean technically—”

Technically doesn’t count,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “And I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you that.”

“No. Bobbie said so. And I’ve been to therapy. I get it. But knowing it and feeling it—” She rubbed the side of her face. “I don’t think about it all the time,” she offered. “Days go by, and I don’t. But lately, now we’re—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I knew it would come up—”

He took another step towards her. “What scares you about it?” he asked. “I mean, if you can or want to—”

“I don’t know. That I won’t like any of it,” Elizabeth admitted. She twisted her fingers together in front of her, staring at them. “Or maybe worse. That I will, and then there will be a moment, and then I’ll be back there. It’s the hardest part of it, you know. You never know what’s going to trigger it. Um, sometimes people say something or, once, DJ—the cook at Kelly’s—he just bumped into me in the kitchen and I thought he was grabbing me—” Her throat closed. “I’m scared that if we try—If I try—then it’ll put me back in that night and it’ll ruin everything—”

Her eyes met his, tears still glistening in her lashes. “It’s not about trusting you. I wish it was that simple. I trust you. I trusted Lucky. It’s about trusting myself, and I’m not there yet. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” he demanded, wincing when he heard the roughness of his tone. She flinched. “I didn’t—I just meant this isn’t something you did to yourself, Elizabeth. It was done to you.”

Elizabeth swiped at her tears. “I know. I’ve been in therapy. It’s not my fault. None of it is. But it still feels like there’s something wrong with me.”

Jason had been slowly crossing the room and now he was just in front of her. “You said you trust me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Do you trust me when I tell you that I don’t care if or when we sleep together?” he asked.

Elizabeth made a face. “Jason—” She took a deep, watery breath. “See, I know you meant that to help, but now—”

“What?” he reached for her hands, stopping her from twisting them. “Do you think because I don’t care that it means I don’t want to?” he asked and from the flush in her cheeks, he knew he was right. “I’ve been scared,” he admitted in a low voice, “to show you how much I do want you. Maybe saying I don’t care isn’t the right way. Because I do,” he continued, “and I hope one day you’re ready. But it’s not a dealbreaker. I just like being around you.”

“Jason—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s so frustrating,” Elizabeth muttered.

“What is?”

“Because most of me wants to—” She sighed. “I think maybe I didn’t really believe you were—I mean, that you wanted to have—you know, this is ridiculous. It’s frustrating,” Elizabeth repeated, meeting his eyes and now he saw the flare of irritation, “because if you want me, and I definitely want you, that I don’t get to have that, you know? It shouldn’t be this hard—”

“It’s been less than a week,” Jason cut in. He cupped one of her cheeks, letting his thumb slide over the tear-stained skin. “I can be patient.”

“Yeah, well, patience has never been one of my virtues.” But some of the sadness had dissipated and he knew that he’d managed to reassure her. She smiled at him. “This has been a really weird day.”

“Yeah, and it’s not over yet.” Sensing the storm had passed, he leaned forward to kiss her, but she put her hands on his chest. “I’m sorry—”

“No, no, I just realized—” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “You never told me how Carly threatened you. You said she had and that you’d turned her down so she came to me. What did she say to you?”

Jason winced because he really didn’t want to have this conversation since it just put that insane conversation with Alexis back in his head.

Fortunately for him, before Elizabeth could press further, there was a slight knock on the door and then Sonny pushed it open. “Hey, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No.” Elizabeth cleared her throat and put some space between them. “Do you—um, should I go upstairs? Or whatever—”

“No, I think since the bomb was in your studio, you should at least get to know about it.” Sonny glanced at Jason. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Yeah. The guys already looked?”

“Didn’t take long. The studio isn’t far from the warehouse.” Sonny rocked back on his heels. “Good news and bad news,” he continued. “Bad news, it was a live bomb. It should have detonated.”

Jason exhaled in a rush as he reflexively tightened his grip on Elizabeth’s hand. “But it didn’t.”

“No. Uh, Paulie said you might have made it out with minor injuries,” Sonny told her. “In the closet, I mean, but tough to know for sure. The thing is — there was a wire crossed. The bomb could count down but detonation wouldn’t trigger.”

Elizabeth squinted. “So, was that a mistake?” she asked. “Did he want the bomb to go off or did he just want to scare me?”

“It’s hard to say,” Sonny said slowly, and Jason could tell he was impressed that Elizabeth had made that leap. “The thing is—we don’t know. I’m getting a meeting together, so we’ll see tomorrow.” He hesitated. “You can’t go back to the studio.”

“No, I didn’t think I could. Um—” Elizabeth flicked her eyes to Jason. “I was gonna stay with Emily while you got the door and lock replaced, but I don’t feel—I mean, he could go after her, too.”

“If you were there, yeah. He wanted you to refuse to alibi me,” Jason reminded her. “He doesn’t know you weren’t planning to.” He looked at Sonny. “Do you need anything else from me tonight?” He really didn’t need the other man for the rest of this conversation.

“No, no. You’re good to go. Uh, Happy New Year’s,” Sonny said, gesturing at the clock which had clicked over to midnight when they hadn’t realized. “Call me if you need anything.”

When Sonny was gone, Jason turned back to Elizabeth. “I know everything we just talked about, but—”

“You want me to stay here in the Towers which has better security,” she finished. “I figured.” Elizabeth bit her lip, glancing around the room with its spare furniture. “Um, I’m also guessing maybe the guest rooms aren’t furnished.”

Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, no. Just the one bed. But you take that and I’ll take the sofa—”

“No, no.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “When we were in the studio, you were on the sofa and I was on the floor. I know how to share a space with you Jason.” Her cheeks flushed. “I mean, if you want—”

“If you’re sure.” His skin felt like it was stretched too tight all of a sudden. He cleared his throat. “You can change your mind. Even in the middle of the night.”

“I know. I just—I trust you,” she said. She hesitated. “I guess we should—I mean, unless you don’t have—”

“No, we can—” Go to bed, he finished silently, but saying it out loud didn’t feel right. “Yeah.”

“Right.” Neither of them moved for a minute, then she laughed—with a mixture of embarrassment and nerves. “Can I borrow something to sleep in? I guess a t-shirt or—”

“Yeah. I’ll get you something,” he said immediately, starting for the stairs relieved to have a task. He heard her footsteps behind him and hoped like hell they weren’t making a mistake.

Maybe he should just take the sofa after all.

February 8, 2023

Update Link: Chapter 5 & Chapter 6

I meant to post over the weekend, but time got away from me. I know you’ve heard this before, but I’m pretty sure Flash Fiction will be back in rotation this weekend. I’ve been working hard to get things on track in school, and we’re there. I’m still caught up on grading and pre-prepped for the week ahead. I was bit worried that I’d get off track because we’re launching our huge fundraiser for Valentine’s Day and that always gets me off track but so far so good.

I’ve been writing FMT mostly, and I want to be sure that project is really off the ground before I reintroduce Flash Fiction into the routine. I’ve written four chapters of the planned 27, which is less than I’d like since I began on January 1, but in my defense — Covid, lol. So hopeful that the next time I check in, we’ve made even more progress.

See you in a few days!

This entry is part 6 of 41 in the Signs of Life

It seems no one can help me now
I’m in too deep
There’s no way out
This time I have really lead myself astray
Runaway train never going back
Wrong way on a one-way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I’m neither here nor there

Runaway Train, Soul Asylum


Friday, December 31, 1999

Kelly’s: Diner

Elizabeth dumped a few coffee mugs into the dish tub and turned back to the counter, frowning when she saw her grandmother. “Gram.”

“Elizabeth,” Audrey said with a stiff nod. “I was hoping you would reconsider coming to the hotel with me tonight for the party.”

She opened her mouth, then saw Carly sauntering in and taking a seat at the counter. This was definitely the last thing she needed today. “Thanks, Gram, but I already have plans tonight.”

Audrey’s expression grew even more stony. “With Jason Morgan?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, ignoring Carly’s smirk. “Gram—”

“I certainly hope I won’t have to be attending your funeral,” her grandmother snapped then stormed out of the diner.

Fantastic. Her day was going just great. She turned her attention to Carly. “What can I get you?”

“It’s really what I can get for you,” Carly said coolly. “I’m here to do you a favor, Little Miss Muffet—”

“I doubt that—”

“You know Jason’s only playing around with you because of me,” Carly interrupted and Elizabeth closed her mouth. “Because I made a mistake—”

“Just the one?”

“He always comes back.” Carly leaned forward, her brown eyes dancing with glee and malice. “You can ask Robin. I was his first, you know? After the accident. She wasn’t enough for him—”

“That’s—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “That’s none of my business—”

“It should be. He and I—we have chemistry. You know, where it counts. You’ve seen him, haven’t you? He’s gorgeous, sexy—” Carly closed her eyes and Elizabeth’s throat burned because she knew what the other woman was insinuating. “Mmm, the things he can do with those hands—”

“I have customers—” Elizabeth started to turn away, but Carly’s hand snaked out and wrapped around Elizabeth’s forearm.

“He always comes back to me,” Carly repeated. “He likes to pretend girls like you turn him on—fragile, soft—” She paused. “Damaged.”

Elizabeth flinched at that, and Carly’s lips curved into a smile. “That’s right. He put up with Robin and her sob story for as long as he could. I know about you.”

Her breath froze in her lungs and Elizabeth could only stare at her in stunned silence. “Everyone knows. I’m sorry for you,” Carly added. “Because you were young. Don’t think I’m not sympathetic—”

“Sympathetic—” Elizabeth choked out.

“Sympathetic enough to let you take a few rolls with Jason to get yourself back in the game.” Carly shrugged, released Elizabeth’s arm. “He’ll make you like sex again.”

Her stomach was rolling and bile had risen in her throat until she nearly gagged from it, but Carly just continued. “And you might even entertain him for a little while. At the end of the day, honey, you and I both know you’re not enough to keep him. He’ll get bored, just like he did with Robin, and then he’ll come back to me. He always does.”

Carly got to her feet and adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I told you, kid, this was me doing you a favor. Have your fun for as long as he’ll let you but don’t fool yourself. You’re not woman enough for Jason. You’re just a damaged little girl looking for a hero.”

As soon as Carly had left the diner, Elizabeth went into the kitchen and straight into the walk in fridge to give herself a long moment. To take a deep breath. She had Emily’s words rolling in her mind to just talk to Jason, to ask him—

But she also knew that Carly’s venom was rooted in truth. Elizabeth was damaged. She was fragile. Not as much as she had been, that much was true. She could take care of herself — but in the ways that mattered — as a woman — there was a piece of Elizabeth that would always be broken. Shattered.

And she was terrified that Carly was right — that the piece of her soul Tom Baker had stolen that night meant that she could never be okay. That she would always be trapped in those bushes, her back against the cold, frozen dirt with someone looming over her—

“Lizzie?” DJ poked his head in. “You okay?”

She closed her eyes and sank to the ground, resting her head against the cool metal wall. “No,” she said softly.

“Let me call Tammy, kid.” The cook edged his way into the freezer and knelt in front of her. “We’ll get someone to cover your shift—”

“No.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’ll—I’ll do it. I have to call someone anyway.”

Elm Street Pier

Jason was just heading to Kelly’s for some dinner when he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. He tugged it out and smiled when he saw Elizabeth’s name on the screen. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Her voice sounded a bit strange—almost flat and empty. “I’m not feeling well, so I’m going home early.”

Jason frowned. “I’ll be right there. We can get your stuff tomorrow—”

“No, I—” She cleared her throat. “No, I—I, um, talked to Emily. I’m going to stay with her. I just—I’m sorry.”

“Elizabeth, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I mean, except for—I think I’m getting a cold—”

“Then let me—” He could take care of her, the way she’d done for him. “I’ll come right now—”

“Jason, I—look, I’m sorry. Please. I just—I have to go.” The line went dead, and Jason found himself staring at the silent phone, unsure what had happened. Things had been fine that morning. She’d been happy and hadn’t seemed sick at all.

He grimaced. If Carly had gone after him—why wouldn’t she confront Elizabeth? Damn it.

Studio

Wearily, Elizabeth pushed open her door, then slid the bolt to lock it behind her. She’d felt terrible lying to Jason about where she was spending the night. She reminded herself that she’d go to Emily’s in the morning.

She just didn’t want to see anyone or anything right now. She wanted to sit with herself in the dark, the quiet—

Elizabeth dragged her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. It was stupid to let Carly into her head, stupid to let the words sink into her bones.

Stupid to think that Carly wasn’t right.

The phone rang, and Elizabeth jumped from the sound. She turned to look at her landline, wondering if it was Jason. Or maybe it was someone else—

She bit her lip, considered letting the machine pick up but then reached for it. If it was Jason, she almost wanted him to catch her in the lie. To come over.

Elizabeth lifted the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”

“Miss Webber, hello. This is Joseph Sorel.”

Her heart froze for a moment, then began to beat wildly in her chest. “What—”

“I regret to tell you that this will be the last time we speak. I hope you’ve made peace with yourself.”

“What the hell—” Elizabeth began, then she heard something slam against her door. She rushed towards it — tried to twist the knob. It wouldn’t turn.

“It won’t open. Now, go check under the table.”

Elizabeth obeyed, kneeling down to peer underneath her artist’s table—then her mouth dried up.

“Have you found it yet? You’re trapped, my dear, and unless you do exactly as I say, you won’t see the year 2000. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she breathed, staring at the 5:00 numbers blinking in red, attached to a bulky device. Then, in horrors, they stopped blinking, then began to change. 4:59. 4:58.

Oh, God. There was a bomb in her studio.

Studio: Back Alley

Jason was already irritated with himself as he approached the back door entrance to her building. He hadn’t been checking on Elizabeth when he’d called his sister earlier — but Emily had no idea what he was talking about. She was going to a party that night, and Elizabeth was definitely not supposed to be with her.

Elizabeth wasn’t someone who lied without a damn good reason, and Jason had a feeling he knew who had caused all of this. Carly hadn’t gotten the reaction she wanted from him, so she’d gone after someone she thought of as a weaker target.

He’d find out what Carly had said to Elizabeth, he’d fix it — and then—

He stopped short when he saw that the back entrance to her building had been blocked off. There were boards nailed across it.

They had not been there that morning.

Studio

“What do you want?” Elizabeth demanded, her heart racing as she went back to the door and started to pull on it. Damn it, damn it—it wouldn’t turn—

“I can’t have you speaking to the PCPD about the night Anthony Moreno died,” Sorel said, his voice almost tinny in her ear. “You agree not to alibi Jason Morgan, and I’ll tell you how to deactivate the bomb—”

“Are you—” Her heart seized. “Wait — can’t you just turn it off?”

“Oh, it’s not that kind of device,” Sorel said with a laugh. “Once I start the timer—”

“Then why am I wasting my time talking to you—” She hissed and slammed the phone down. Almost immediately, it started to ring again. “What? I told you—”

“Elizabeth—”

“Jason!” Elizabeth nearly sank to her knees in relief. “Jason, I can’t get out—there’s a bomb—”

“What?” Jason bit out. “Where? What—damn it—both entrances to the building are blocked—”

“My door—they did something to the—” She pressed the receiver to her ear, trying to think. He’d never make it upstairs in four minutes. She was trapped. “Jason, you have to go.”

“What—”

“You won’t—” She turned around, trying to gage the size of the window. Could she push it open and get out? It was a hard fall but she had a better chance—She turned back to the phone. “You won’t get here in time, and I don’t want you to get hurt, okay? This is my fault—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I’m sorry.” She hung up the phone and went to the window, shoving the couch over to it. She boosted herself onto the window sill and shoved it open. She glanced down, swallowing hard. It was trash day and the alley was littered with boxes and crates—

She looked back to the studio, focused on the door in the back, the closet. Could she hide in there? Would that block the shockwaves? How strong was the bomb? Damn it, why hadn’t she paid attention when bombs went off on television?

She looked under the table, swallowing hard. Two minutes left.

Alley

Jason didn’t bother calling her again. She wouldn’t answer. He needed to get upstairs, he needed to get to her and get her to safety—

He tossed the phone aside, grabbed one of the boards with his hands and yanked. Nails and splinters dug into his flesh but he didn’t stop to let the pain register. He kept going.

He had the door unblocked and was running up the stairs, taking them three or four at a time, his chest heaving, his heart pounding—

How long was the timer—did she know to hide—how to protect herself—

Studio

Elizabeth dragged the sofa in front of the table, and then stacked a few things — unused canvases, her easel — anything to block the blast—

And when she knew her time was almost at its end, she went into the closet, dragging boxes and supplies behind her, not caring as they tipped and spilled. She closed herself inside, then curled into a ball in the closet.

Then she put her head down and prayed.

On her floor, Jason rushed down the hallway towards the studio. He tested the knob but it refused to turn—he braced a shoulder against it and forced it open —

Elizabeth heard a loud bang and screamed, thinking it was the bomb, thinking it was over—

Then the door to the closet was dragged open and hands were reaching in, reaching under her elbows to drag her to her feet. “Jason?”

“Let’s go,” he said, half carrying, half dragging her out of the studio, past the broken down door. Elizabeth didn’t argue.

Elm Street Pier

The blast of wintry cold air against her cheeks forced her brain to react. “Wait, wait—”  She turned back to her building. “It didn’t go off.”

Jason was running his hands down her shoulders, down her arms, checking for injuries — then he stopped. “What?”

“Five minutes.” Her lips started to chatter and Jason yanked off his jacket to wrap it around her. “The timer. And when I went into the closet, it had to be around thirty seconds—”

They both looked back at the building now, waiting to hear the explosion. Waiting. Nothing. Elizabeth blinked. “Was it real?” she asked softly. “Was it fake?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not leaving you out here in the open to find out,” Jason said. “I’ll call a team—” he winced. “Will someone call in the noise I made when I came through the door?”

“Not in that building,” Elizabeth said, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. She frowned, reached for his hands. “What did you do?”

“Nothing—”

“Jason—” His hands were bleeding, scraped, and there were splinters—She raised her eyes to his. “I—”

“Come on.” He reached for his cell phone, then grimaced. “I lost it in the alley. We’ll go to the penthouse. We’ll figure it out.” He hesitated. “Please. I just—I need you to be safe. We can—”

She hadn’t listened to him earlier. He’d asked her not to go back to the studio alone, and she’d not only done that—she’d lied to him about it. Elizabeth swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t think—” She pressed a fist to her mouth as it sunk in. She’d nearly died and Jason might have died, too, trying to get her out— “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“We’ll talk about it later, it’s okay,” he assured her, tugging on her her arm again. She sighed and followed him. Sure they’d talk about it, and then it would probably be over. He’d never trust her again. Not after she’d nearly gotten them both blown up.