June 22, 2022

This entry is part 1 of 5 in the ZFlash - Watch

September 2007

Chelsea Ray turned off the main path down one that twisted and curled around the PCU campus, leading towards her dorm. She’d only just moved into Lewis Hall the week before, and was still negotiating with her new roommate what went where, and what, if any, shared space they’d enjoy. Georgie Jones seemed pretty nice, so maybe it would be great freshman year after all.

Chelsea heard a branch break behind her, so she stopped to look. Maybe someone had left the party and was on their way back. Maybe it was Gavin, the dreamy sophomore she’d met when they’d moved in. She was almost sure he’d sent the small bouquet of lilies and daisies she’d found outside her dorm—

But there was no one behind her, so she shrugged and turned back towards the dorm. She was only ten feet away from the door when a hand wrapped around her upper arm and yanked her off the path.

She never even had the chance to scream.


The house on Lexington Street was practically overflowing with boxes. Emily Bowen-Quartermaine could scarcely find the newspaper between stacks on the porch, and  then almost tripped over another one in the landing when she came in.

“Sorry—” Elizabeth Spencer lifted her four-month-old son into her arms and navigated around another stack. “I meant to grab that one—”

“That’s okay,” Emily said with a shrug. “You nearly died tripping over mine upstairs last night.” She glanced around the room with a sigh. “Where did we get so much stuff?”

“I’m not sure,” Elizabeth admitted. She swayed a bit, lulling the dozing infant into deeper sleep. “I think, between cleaning out my grandmother’s house, your parents deciding you couldn’t move out without taking everything you everything owned, and the boys—”

“We’re going to unpacking when our bones are dust in the ground.” Emily shoved another stack aside and unfolded the paper. “Well, the trial is finally off the front pages,” she said, holding it up so Elizabeth could see.

Elizabeth squinted, then her eyes widened. “Oh my God—”

“Yeah, I think I should have been more specific when I asked the universe to give you and my brother a break—” Emily scanned the headline again. MURDER SHOCKS PCU CAMPUS; NO LEADS. “The poor girl, and her family—can you imagine? She manages to survive her entire life in New York City, comes to PCU—”

Elizabeth clutched her son more tightly against her, pressing her cheek to his soft blond hair, and Emily wanted to kick herself. Only a few terrible months ago, baby Jake had been kidnapped, and Elizabeth had been devastated. “Sorry—”

“It’s okay.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, then went to set Jake into the bassinet in the corner. She went to answer the ringing phone and Emily tossed aside the paper and picked up the box she’d tripped on. Best to start with the boxes that might end up killing them. As she unwrapped some knick knacks Elizabeth had inherited from her grandmother when Audrey Hardy had passed away that summer, she half listened to Elizabeth on the phone.

“Yeah, I mean, I expected it, Diane. No—” Elizabeth sighed. “No, I don’t want to go that route yet. I’m hoping when things settle—okay. Okay. Yeah, I’ll find out and let you know. Thanks.” She set the cordless back in the base and joined Emily at the table.

“Everything okay?” Emily asked.

“Yeah. I guess.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “We have a mediation meeting at the end of the week—to figure out where we are on the divorce and custody. I filed after he told me about Sam—” She looked at Emily. “I mean, I was going to after the trial anyway, but—”

“I hope Ric Lansing gets stabbed by a rusty nail,” Emily muttered. “He had no right to ask those questions—”

“Bias,” Elizabeth reminded her with a half shrug. “He needed to impeach my testimony and make it look like I’d lie for Jason. Diane warned me.”

“Still—”

“It really is fine. It’s better this way,” Elizabeth added. “Lucky and I were just hurting each other. We never should have remarried—this entire last year—ever since I found him with Maxie—” She removed a photo frame of her grandparents from its packing paper, then traced her fingers over her beloved grandmother. “It’s like I’ve been drifting in a fog, not thinking about the big picture. I should have told the truth from the start.”

“You had your reasons.”

“That doesn’t make them right. Or even good ones.” Elizabeth walked the photo over to the mantel to set Steve and Audrey Hardy next to a photo of the boys, Cameron’s beaming face as he held his little brother. “He’s asking for joint custody.”

“What? Why?” Emily folded his arms. “He’s barely been in Cameron’s life since the first separation. And Jake isn’t his. He knows that.”

“Knowing and feeling are different things. Cameron—that’s on him,” Elizabeth added. “But Jake—he’s spent a year being his father, and now I’ve told him it’s not true. I can’t blame him for being angry—”

“But Jason—”

“I hurt Jason over all of this, too,” Elizabeth admitted. “And I don’t know how to stop hurting either of them. I just know Jason doesn’t deserve to be cut out of Jake’s life, and it was never my place to ask for it.”

“Then Lucky needs to back off. He’s the one that torpedoed everything. The drugs, the affairs, the abuse-”

“Em—”

“Don’t argue. He was emotionally abusive, and we both know he pushed you last year. He’s my friend, Elizabeth, but you’re my family.” Emily put her hand on Elizabeth’ shoulder. “And whatever happens next, I’m on your side.”


Elizabeth had finally made a serious dent in the boxes that had filled the living room, and was relieved at the knock on the front door giving her reason to stop unpacking. She tossed some of the empty boxes out of the way and peered out the window.

Then opened the door. “Jason.”

Jason Morgan, recently acquitted on all charges, offered a half-sheepish smile, the tips of his fingers tucked into the pockets of his jeans. “Hey. I hope it’s okay I just…”

Elizabeth tucked a piece of hair behind her ears and stepped back. “Yeah, yeah. Um, come in. Don’t mind the mess. Em and I are still unpacking.” She closed the door, took a deep breath, then turned to face him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he repeated. They stood there for a long moment, just staring at one another. She couldn’t help but remember one of the last times they’d been alone together — when they’d stood in the park and he’d told her he was in love with her. That he should have said it a long time ago.

Instead of just telling him the same, she’d had to tell him about the men in the park, the ones that had threatened her and the boys with guns.

Why couldn’t they ever be on the same page at the same time?

Their timing, as he’d said a year ago, sucked.

“You’re finally off the front page,” Elizabeth said, gesturing at the paper Emily had left on the table. “You and Sonny must  be relieved.”

“Yeah—” Jason scratched his temple. “I’m glad you’re not there either. That wasn’t—that was a long couple of weeks.”

“Yeah.” She folded her arms. “Um, Jake just went down for his afternoon nap if you wanted to go up and see him—”

“I do,” Jason said. “But we haven’t really—I mean, we haven’t talked about what’s going to happen. If anything is going to change.”

“I want them to,” Elizabeth said. “Jake—I mean, the world knows the truth. They should have a long time ago—”

“We don’t have to talk about any of that—”

“We do,” Elizabeth insisted. “Because you deserve an apology for what’s happened. And what’s going to keep happening. Diane just told me Lucky wants joint custody of both boys. He’s not backing down on Jake, even with the paternity results.”

Jason’s mouth twisted. “Can he do that?” Then he paused, closed his eyes. “Is that what you want? For him to—”

“No—” Elizabeth cut in sharply and he opened his eyes, looked at her again. “No. I just—I did this. To both of you. I don’t want to hurt him more than I have already—he had affairs, I know. And he was—it wasn’t good between us. Even last year. But I can solve that problem. I did—I left. But he honestly thought Jake was his son, and he’s lost that.”

“Yeah.” Jason exhaled slowly, looked away. “I know what it’s like. And I can tell you, even knowing the truth doesn’t help.”

“I told Diane that I’m not changing my mind. Lucky isn’t his father. You are. And you don’t deserve watching Jake grow up thinking differently. I never should have asked you.”

“Elizabeth-”

“I can’t fix this for both of you. It’s impossible. Either I hurt you or I hurt him. And I think it’s time I put you first.” She took a deep breath. “So that’s what’s going on. I just don’t think he’s going to back down. It’s going to be in court, and you might have to testify.”

“Okay.” Jason nodded. “Whatever you need from me. I just—I want—” He stopped, and their eyes met, held for a long moment. “I want us both to be okay. And the boys to be happy.”

“That’s what I want, too,” Elizabeth said. She tipped her head towards the stairs. “Let me show you were Jake is. You should spend some time with him.”

June 20, 2022

This entry is part 1 of 22 in the Flash Fiction: Invisible Strings

Written in 41 minutes.


Colorado Territory, 1872

They had changed trains in Denver, setting course for the small town of Port Charles at the base of the Rocky Mountains, and the last stage of a journey that had taken Elizabeth Webber from her home on Lake Ontario in New York across the country.

It had been the name of the town that had caught her attention in the advertisement she’d seen. She had grown up in region dotted with small villages and hamlets that had the “Port” in its name between Lake Ontario and the Erie Canal that fed into it, the lifeblood of upstate New York. In fact, her hometown had been Port Hamilton. It had seemed like a sign to her — exchanging one lake for another. Surely, they wouldn’t name themselves that without some sort of water.

She’d clung desperately to that sign as she’d read the rest of the advertisement, Lawman, Port Charles, Colorado Territory, aged 29, good appearance and good family. Looking for a strong woman. Must want children.

It had been that final line that convinced her. She glanced down at her sweet son, napping next to her. Cameron, only four years, was the center of her existence, and all she wanted in this world was to give him a better world than they had at home. In Hamilton, everyone knew she was unmarried, and he’d be labeled with that nasty label of bastard.

So she’d sent a letter to the man in Colorado who wanted a wife and a family, and hoped for the best. Now, Elizabeth was finally closing on the miles between Denver and Port Charles, waiting to start her new life and hoping desperately that Sheriff Jason Morgan was everything he’d promised in his letters.


Port Charles lay at the base of the Rocky Mountains, a strange name for the small settlement that had sprung up when the miners flooded the area following the gold and silver strikes of the 1850s. Twenty years later, there was still a decent silver mining operation in business and the settlement had flourished into the largest town for miles. They’d even managed their own railroad spur, connecting themselves to Denver and increasing the business in town.

Jason’s grandfather had made the canny and lucrative decision to uproot his entire family—including his children and grandchildren to invest in those silver and gold mines. The Morgan family was one of the founding families, and that sense of obligation was rooted in Jason from the moment he’d arrived from San Francisco at the age of nine.

Now, he was an adult, walking the streets with a star pinned to his chambray shirt that proclaimed him the ultimate word of law in the town. He rode down the main street, casting his light blue eyes over the buildings and denizens, always looking for trouble. Not that they had a lot of that these days, but he was always ready.

He tied the horse to the post outside the jail where he spent most of his waking hours and tugged off his hat. Inside, at the desk, he found one of his two deputies pouring over papers. Dillon Quartermaine, his younger cousin, jumped, startled at the sound of his boots, and several pieces of papers flew into the air, floating to the ground.

Jason narrowed his eyes as the boy scrambled to his feet and grabbed for the papers. Dillon was always pretty excitable with a tendency to speak at a rapid pace and use his hands to gesture wildly, but over the last few weeks, he’d also become squirrely. Nervous. Something was up.

Jason squatted, reaching for one of the loose papers, and Dillon snatched it back, his face flushing. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Dillon stammered. He cleared his throat, clutching the papers to his chest. He got to his feet. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Cut the bull.” Jason set his hands at his waist. “Don’t make me find out later—”

“I was up all last night thinking about Grandmother,” Dillon said, lifting his chin. “Don’t tell me you weren’t.”

Jason exhaled slowly, some of the suspicion melting away. “Yeah, I’m starting to dread Sunday supper,” he admitted. He removed his hat and set it on the post by the wall. “I thought she’d let this go.”

“She won’t,” Dillon muttered. “Not as long as you keep this up.” Jason shot him a look. “And you know it. She wants us both tied down, but she’d give me a break if you’d just do it—”

Jason scowled. “It’s not that easy,” he said defensively. “I’m busy—”

“You’ve been saying that for almost a year,” his cousin shot back. “You didn’t even try—”

That was true, but it still stung. “Look—” Jason began.

“Nothing. You’re the one that promised Grandmother you’d get married this year, not me. And somehow I got dragged into it.” Dillon stabbed a finger at him. “This is your fault.”

That was also true. If Jason had just stayed strong just a bit more, but his grandmother had a way of looking at them, and everything they’d been through—he dragged a hand over his face. “It’s not that easy,” he repeated. “It’s not like I have a lot of choices.”

“That’s true.” Dillon cleared his throat. “But if you met the right someone, you’d be on board? You promise you’d consider it?”

Jason glanced down at the papers, then back at his cousin. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing. I’m just working on arguments for next Sunday. Eventually Grandmother is going to give up on you, and then I get a starring role.” His eyes were wide. “I’m barely twenty-two! I haven’t even lived yet!”

Jason scowled. “Listen—”

“And I need to have something to say to Grandmother,” Dillon continued. “So you promise if someone showed up you could see yourself marrying—”

“Then I’d consider it,” Jason bit out. “Fine. Tell her that.” He yanked Dillon’s hat off the post next to his. “Now get to work and make your rounds.”


“Mama.” Cameron rubbed his eyes as Elizabeth set him on the bench. “Are we home yet?”

“Not yet darling.” She ruffled his blond hair, then smiled at the train manager. “You said there was a message?” Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to remain calm. A message didn’t mean he’d changed his mind—didn’t mean that she’d spent the last of her funds to drag her son across the country—

“Uh, the sheriff got held up down at the jail,” the manager said, folding his hands. “Said he’d be along as soon as possible. Just have a seat, and it will all be sorted out.”

“Oh.” Well, the letters had said he was the only law enforcement for the entire area, she remembered. There were two duties, but he was in charge. She’d have to understand that sometimes that would have to come first. She could deal with that.

She sat next to Cameron, pulled him close to snuggle, and hoped the wait wouldn’t be too long.


Dillon returned from his rounds, his face a bit flushed. “The train from Denver came in.”

Jason got up from the desk where he’d been sorting the local bulletins and wanted papers from San Francisco. “I heard it a while ago. So?”

“Mike sent a message there’s a delivery for you. For the station,” Dillon clarified. “Don’t know anything else. But you need to pick it up.” He shoved his hat back on his head, wiping at the beads of sweat. “You know how that Pinkerton guy sends all those official papers and gets cranky if I sign for it.”

The Pinkertons had only recently come west to break streaks in San Francisco, and were constantly searching for union leaders in hiding. Jason liked to pretend most of their orders went missing, but occasionally he didn’t have a choice.

“Fine,” Jason said. He reached for his hat. “Let’s get this over with.”

The train station was just outside of town, no more then a ten minute ride from the jail. His cousin went with him, his face still flushed from the heat. Jason reminded himself that he’d need to send him for some water. Idiot might get overheated and get sick, and then what would their grandmother say?

Jason stepped inside the station, scanned the small room and didn’t see Mike Corbin, the manager anywhere. Just a young woman on a bench, with a little boy curled up next to her. She was fair-skinned slightly flushed from the heat, her brown hair caught up beneath a hat with curly tendrils escaping. She turned at their entrance, and then she smiled—her blue eyes lighting up with a sparkle. “You made it.”

Jason stared at her for a long moment, then looked at his cousin, then back at her. She stood, carefully allowing the dozing boy to continue sleeping as she set his head on bundle of cloth she’d had in her lap. “I—”

“The train manager said he didn’t know how long you’d be,” the woman continued, approaching, her smile switching to Dillon, then back to him. “But you weren’t long at all! I’m sorry—” Her cheeks flushed again, and her smile turned sheepish. “I’m doing all the talking and you haven’t had a chance to say a word. I did tell you in my letters I tended to ramble, didn’t I? I tried to warn you.”

In her letters. Jason flashed to the papers Dillon had had that morning, his strange behavior—and then their conversation.

Dillon had taken matters into his own hands, found a woman, and put her right in front of Jason—and she didn’t know a damn thing about it.

June 12, 2022

This entry is part 36 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 60 minutes.


Thursday, February 3, 2000

Harborview Towers: Parking Garage

Jason switched off the engine of his bike and sat for a long moment. He needed to check in with Sonny, and then hopefully Elizabeth had already gone to bed so he wouldn’t have look t her.  She knew what he’d gone to do, of course, but if he could just go to bed, hold her, and then tomorrow, wake up and never talk about Joseph Sorel again—

He dragged himself into the elevator, relieved that security had dialed back to the skeleton crew and that there was no one on duty in front of the penthouses. The fewer people he had to see, the easier it would be for all of them if the body ever surfaced.

It wouldn’t, but it was always good to plan for worst case scenarios.

Sonny had waited up, nursing a tumbler of bourbon. He glanced over and Jason stopped, taking in the strange sense of having lived this moment before.

His partner was sitting in the chair by the fireplace, the liquor in his hand, his hair slightly disheveled, and Jason returning from taking care of business. Just like that night in December.

Except he didn’t have to look at the stairs, didn’t have to worry about what he’d see. Elizabeth was safe across the hall in his bed, and Jason intended to keep it that way.

“Is it done?” Sonny asked, skimming his eyes over Jason’s form. “You’re good?”

“Yes,” Jason said shortly. “It’s done.”

“Good.” Sonny got to his feet, tossed back the last of the bourbon. “Go home. We can talk about everything else tomorrow.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

The room was dark. He could barely see the outline of Elizabeth in bed, resting on her side, one hand draped over the edge. He went into the bathroom, dumped everything he was wearing into the trash, and turned on the shower. There was nothing on him — it hadn’t been that kind of kill, but it still felt like it lingered on his skin and he wouldn’t bring that to her. And he didn’t want her touching anything he’d been wearing.

He’d done what was necessary to protect his family, and he would never regret it. That didn’t mean he wanted to dwell on what he’d had to do.

Jason stepped beneath the spray, only dimly registering it might be a bit too hot. He didn’t always feel temperature well, but he felt the sting against his skin.

He didn’t hear the shower door open, but he heard the hiss. “Are you trying to boil yourself?”

Jason winced, then turned, thinking Elizabeth would just be standing outside the door, holding it open to check on him. His eyes widened when he realized she’d shed herclothes and closed herself into the shower with him, the spray already dampening her hair, slicking it back her head. He muttered, twisting the knob to turn down the hot water. “What—”

“I heard you come home.” She smiled as the water turned cooler. “Thanks—”

“Elizabeth—”

The smile turned a bit nervous as she stood there, and he stayed at the other end of the shower, still not quite sure what she was doing or why. Didn’t she realize where he’d been? What he’d done? Why hadn’t she waited in bed—

Elizabeth bit her lip, then a light came into her eyes that he knew all too well. Determination. She’d folded her arms over her torso, shielding her upper body from him as the discomfort had set in. She let them fall to the side as she closed the short distance between them, the steam and water swirling around them. “I heard you come in,” she repeated, her eyes on him. “I tried to wait up.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he murmured, barely audible over the water, but he couldn’t help him. He trailed his fingers down her shoulders, sliding easily with the slickness of the water.

“I was worried,” she admitted. “And I also knew—” She glanced at the side of the shower, the steam clouding the clear glass. “I saw your clothes in the trash. I thought you might be hurt.”

“I’m not.” He kissed her forehead, then trailed his mouth down her skin to her mouth. “Go back to bed. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You don’t need to do this.” Elizabeth framed his face with hers. “I know who you are.”

“You can’t—”

“And I know where you were.” Her eyes searched his. “It’s over, isn’t it? We’re safe.”

“You’re safe.” For now. Until his choices a thousand years ago put her in danger again.

“Good.” She slid her arms around his neck, pressing her slick body against his and he groaned, letting his forehead drop to rest against hers. “I know who you are,” she said again.  “And I won’t run from it. My face won’t change.”

Jason raised his head, saw the sincerity, the plea to believe her and man, he wanted to. He wanted to believe that this time it was different. That she wasn’t Robin, who had tolerated the other part of him, or Carly who had just wanted the money and power. That here was someone who really did see and understand him. Who wanted him anyway.

He kissed her, slowly and reverently, hoping that it was true, that she really meant it. “Let’s go to bed—”

“Actually—” Elizabeth drew back, her eyes gleaming and her smile turning slightly wicked. “Why don’t we stay right where we are?”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

They slept late the next morning — if there had been a lot of sleep to be had. Jason knew Sonny would call for him eventually, but right now, the morning was theirs. Elizabeth had an evening class and was planning to head to the studio that afternoon, but for now—

He handed her a cup of hot chocolate just the way she liked it, including sprinkles and she beamed at him, curled up in the corner of the sofa. “You really do pay attention.”

Jason sat, his simpler cup of black coffee in hand, and drew her legs over his lap, wanting to be closer to her, needing the contact. “It helps that Emily takes it the same,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I started it. It works great when we’re together. Three packs split two ways.” Elizabeth sipped it, closing her eyes. “Perfect.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. He nearly stayed silent, not wanting to rock the boat. Things were good just the way they were, and he didn’t want to think about anyone else outside this room. But he couldn’t pretend.

“Yesterday,” Jason said, slowly, and looked at her. She raised her brows, one hand wrapped around the handle of the mug, and the other cupping the mug from the other side. “You said I wasn’t ready to talk about why I don’t want to tell Sonny or AJ about the baby.”

She exhaled slowly, and some of the light left her eyes. He regretted it, but as long as they didn’t have this conversation, it would sit between them. And she might honestly not want it to mess things up — but it would. He’d learned the hard way from Robin that words left unsaid were worse than the ones that you screamed at each other. Those unspoken words burned like acid at the foundation of everything you wanted, and you wouldn’t even realize it until everything collapsed.

He wouldn’t do it again. He’d never forgive himself if keeping this secret somehow cost him this time with Elizabeth, for however long she’d stay with him. He wasn’t willing to lose a minute of it if he could stop it.

“I did,” Elizabeth said finally. She drew her legs out of his lap, folded them underneath her body, then reached to set the hot chocolate on the table.

“It sounded like you think you know why I’m doing it,” Jason continued, twisting slightly until they were facing each other. “And that it’s not what I’m saying outloud. You think I’m lying to you.”

“No,” Elizabeth said with a forceful shake of her head. “I don’t think you’re lying. You’d never lie to me.”

“Then—”

“Maybe it’s more accurate to say that I’m worried—” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down as if what she was going to say was so painful she needed to hurt herself first to take the sting out of it. “I’m worried that you’re really protecting Carly. I know it’s about protecting Michael, and I understand that, but he’s barely two. He won’t be called into court to be asked which parent he wants to live with. He won’t even know most of it is happening—”

“Kids know more than we think—”

“I know. I know they do,” Elizabeth assured. “And I know it’ll be upsetting if he loses one of his parents full-time. But I honestly think — whatever else Carly has done in her life, I know she loves Michael. And as much as it hurts you, you know AJ does, too. He’ll know people are angry, but he’ll still feel the love. And I don’t know if it’s a good idea to make this kind of decision because a little boy will be confused for a while.”

Jason exhaled slowly, then looked away, staring at the opposite wall as he took in her words.  Was it really just Michael he was protecting? Or was there some small piece of him that instinctively want to shield Carly after all she’d done to him?

And if that was true—if it really was just Carly he was protecting—what did that say about him? That he was willing to to hurt others to keep Carly happy? To do her bidding and keep her secrets? He’d done it to Robin, hadn’t he? But that was different, he reminded himself. He’d done that to keep Michael. He’d have done anything to keep that precious boy all to himself.

“I’m not telling you what you’re feeling or thinking. I’m sorry if that’s how it sounded. I know you hate that,” Elizabeth added, and he swung his head back. “I think saying that I think there’s more to this for you — maybe that’s my own fears creeping out, you know?”

“Your fears?” he repeated, with a frown. “What—”

“I’m scared you’re really just protecting Carly,” she admitted in a small voice. “That you’ve been doing it so long you don’t know how to stop. Or maybe it’s…you told me weeks ago you didn’t think you were still in love with her, but maybe it’s just how you want to feel—”

He scowled. “Don’t—”

“I’m sorry, that’s me—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, her expression twisted, and he wished he hadn’t started this. “That’s me again. I’m afraid that’s how you feel.”

He  didn’t really see how it was any different. “If it’s what you think, then you think I lied—”

“God, I wish it were that black and white,” Elizabeth muttered. She dragged a hand through hair, then covered her mouth. “It’s—it’s—look, the day we got married, I told you that it was all okay—what happened at the church and what Carly said. I told you I was fine because you hadn’t broken any promises to me. I meant that, Jason. But you saw that as much as I meant it, there was a piece of me that didn’t. Because—” Her voice faltered and she stared down at her hand. At the ring he’d slipped on her finger. “Because until she came in, I forgot for a while why we were there. Which seems insane, I guess, but Father Coates was asking us to repeat the vows, and it didn’t feel like a lie.”

“It didn’t for me either,” Jason told her, and she smiled faintly.

“But then Carly came in and it was like someone popped a bubble and I fell to the ground. Two weeks before we got married, you sat in my studio and told another woman you loved her.”

He exhaled slowly. “I thought I did. That seeing her with Sonny had hurt so much because I loved her. It made sense. But I couldn’t have loved her. It wasn’t real—”

“Jason—”

“It wasn’t,” Jason insisted. “Because all she ever did was hurt me, and all I ever did was clean up after her and wait for the next round. I loved Michael,” he continued. “And I destroyed everything else in my life to keep him. I wanted him back. And the only way to get him back was to keep Carly in my life. You know how easy it is to lie to yourself, Elizabeth. Is it so hard to believe I was doing it, too?”

“No, I guess not,” she admitted.

“I was hurt because of Sonny,” Jason continued, “and I felt like an idiot because everyone had told me who Carly was. I thought I knew who she was. And I was still blindsided by what she could do. Because to give up on Carly—” He closed his eyes and forced out the next words. “It’s giving up on Michael. I know he’ll never be mine again, but I can’t stop wanting it. I can’t stop loving him. I don’t know.”

She didn’t say anything to that, and Jason just sat, absorbing it, realizing the truth in his own words. If he kept Carly happy, he was still holding out some kernel of hope that it would be different. That Michael could be his again. Why did he have to keep learning over and over again that it was over? That Michael wasn’t his to keep and never had been?

“Okay,” Elizabeth said softly. “That’s enough for me.”

Jason frowned, looked at her with confusion. “What?”

“I know how much it hurt to lose him. How much it still hurts. I lost Lucky,” she reminded him, “and I know it’s not the same because maybe it’s worse to lose someone and watch them go off and live a life without you. Michael won’t remember the year he spent with you. For him, it won’t have happened. You get to grieve that for as long you need to, Jason. You let me grieve without limits.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “It’s not the same,” he echoed. “And your grieving didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Except myself,” Elizabeth said with a half smile. “But you gave me the space I needed to realize that, and I’m on the other side. I see a future now, and that wasn’t true six months ago.”

Jason got to his feet, put down his coffee cup. He held out his hand, and confused, Elizabeth took it. He pulled her to his feet. “Thank you,” Jason told her, kissing the inside of her palm. “For trying to understand. But you’re right. It doesn’t matter why I’m doing it, I’m still protecting Carly. And she doesn’t deserve it. She never has.”

“Okay—”

“Come with me.”

Jason pulled her across the hall and then he knocked on Sonny’s door. A moment later, it was pulled open by the man himself, who frowned at the two of them. “What—”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

June 5, 2022

This entry is part 35 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 49 minutes.


Wednesday, February 2, 2000

Corinthos & Morgan: Office

Jason scribbled his name at the bottom of a contract, then shoved it into a pile that he intended to dump on the secretary’s desk on his way out. He only came down here once or twice, but there always seemed to be a thousand things for him to sign. Why the hell had he agreed to go into this kind of business? There was so much paperwork—

“Yo—” There was a light knock, and Jason glanced up to find one of the guards in the open doorway. “Uh, AJ Quartermaine is insisting on talking to you. We can kick him out, but I thought I’d check—”

His stomach churned, but Jason got to his feet. There couldn’t be a lot of reasons the Quartermaine scion would be demanding to talk to him, and he wondered if he was out of town. Had AJ realized he might not be the baby’s father? It was one thing to let things drift until Carly’s paternity test, but—

“I’ll take care of it,” he told the guard.

AJ stepped over the threshold and closed the door. They stared at one another for a long moment, then finally he spoke. “I know that I’ve done a lot of things wrong in my life. Most of which you don’t even remember. There’s no reason for either of us trust each other after this last year.”

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. This wasn’t quite the approach he’d expected, so he remained silent.

“I married Carly knowing exactly who she is and what she’s capable of. This was the same woman who drugged me into thinking I was drinking again,” AJ reminded him, and Jason accepted that. He’d known that, but he’d accepted it as part of Carly’s life before Michael. Now, it showed a pattern of being willing to destroy people who’d never hurt her to get what she wanted.

He should have seen it as a lesson to be learned.

“I knew she was in love with you,” AJ continued, “and that there was a chance whatever was going on with you two would continue. I know it has.” His eyes burned into Jason’s. “I deserve the life I have with Carly, and it was always a price I was willing to pay to have Michael. You know that. You were willing to pay it, too.”

“What’s the point of all of this?” Jason interrupted. “Why are you here?”

“Whatever Carly’s faults—and there are many—she’s a good mother. I don’t want Michael to lose what we have. I can live with Carly. And I know you’ve moved on.” AJ swallowed hard. “You’re building a future that doesn’t include her. You took my son for over a year without asking and lied about it. I’m at least giving you the choice.”

Jason furrowed his brow. This was a strange conversation for them to be having—how could AJ sound so convinced. “What—”

“Don’t bother.” AJ held up a hand and Jason closed his mouth. “Carly and I weren’t sleeping together at the point she got pregnant. There’s no chance this is my baby. I hoped that the infidelity clause in the prenuptial agreement would be harsh enough, but I guess Carly can’t help herself. I don’t even know if it’d hold up in family court, and I’m not willing to chance it. I don’t want Michael to be used like a weapon. He’s already spent too much of his life in the middle of all of this.”

“Look—”

“I don’t deserve him. Or any other kids. I don’t deserve anything. For what I did to you. To my family, to the other people that I’ve hurt.” AJ pressed a hand against his chest. “I deserve Carly, okay? But Michael should have his family. I’m asking you to let him have it. I will be a good father, and if you want to be an uncle, I can live with that. I promise. I just—”

“AJ—” Jason stopped. He didn’t know what to say to this impassioned plea from a man who had clearly thought through everything minute.

“And, you know, maybe we can come clean later. I don’t know. I just—I’m asking you for this. To keep quiet. Do you want to deal with Carly for the rest of your life?” AJ pressed. “Michael will be dragged into court, but so will Elizabeth. You and me, we’ve got enough bad blood. Neither of them deserve it.” He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to decide right now. It’s a lot to ask, and you should think it over.”

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

Bobbie had thought often about what she was going to do. She’d been pushing the wrong people, she knew that. Putting pressure on Elizabeth when it wasn’t remotely her fight—and the way Elizabeth had looked the last time they’d discussed it, Bobbie had decided to stop. Jason had a right to walk away from Carly and everything that came with her. He had a right to a future.

But that didn’t mean Bobbie was ready to let this go.

“Mama.” Carly’s expression was wary as she stepped into the room where Bobbie was waiting. She closed the doors, leaning against them. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“And this will be the last time,” Bobbie said softly. Carly flinched. “I’m sorry. I am. But I can’t do this anymore. You and I both know that’s not AJ’s child—”

“You don’t—”

“I forgave you for Tony,” Bobbie said, and Carly closed her mouth. “I looked past everything you did to hurt me because, God knows, I was never innocent. I lied, cheated, and stole to get what I wanted, and the only person who ever really got hurt was myself. I wanted better for you. I wanted you to have what I didn’t. So I forgave you. But you haven’t changed. You’re still lying, still cheating, and stealing what doesn’t belong to you.”

Carly’s eyes burned with tears, but she lifted her chin. “So you’re turning your back on me. Because I’m not living my life the way you want me to—”

“I will miss my grandson,” Bobbie said, and her heart twisted. Oh, God. “But I can’t sit by and watch this. You were willing to sacrifice me to get what you wanted. To put Elizabeth in jail. You would have watched us both get destroyed to punish Jason. I don’t matter to you. No one matters to you but yourself.”

“That’s not true. Mama, please—” Carly’s voice  broke. “Please.”

“I have watch you use Michael since the moment he was conceived, and now you have another child to use as a pawn. You’re good at making people believe in you for a while.” Bobbie went to the door and gently steered Carly away so she could open it. “Tony saw who you really were. So did Jason. And now it’s my turn. Goodbye.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“And he just left it like that.” Elizabeth curled up on the sofa, her eyes wide as she watched Jason at the window on the other side of the fireplace. His expression was troubled, and she honestly didn’t understand.

He’d wanted to wait until the paternity test, but now he knew. There was no chance AJ was the father. The time was now.

But she swallowed those words. She’d meant what she’d said when they’d first learned about the baby. This was Jason’s choice. For better or for worse. His mistake.

“Yeah. He wanted me to think about it.” Jason turned to her, but his expression was hard to read. “What do you think?”

“About what AJ said?” Elizabeth shrugged. “I think, whatever he’s done in the past, he showed a lot of courage in at least facing you head on.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And he’s not wrong about what the future is going to hold. A lot of time in court for everyone. Carly’s going to go down swinging. Sonny will be dragged into all of that, too.”  She shifted. “But Carly knew what she signed—”

“She was desperate,” Jason interrupted. “She knew the Quartermaines would pay off anyone in court—”

Elizabeth closed her mouth. He was right. The Quartermaines would never play this clean, but neither had Carly. Not that Jason would never admit it. For all that he talked about moving on and not loving her, it was hard to believe it. Not when he constantly rose up to defend her. “Okay.”

Jason waited, but she remained silent. He furrowed his brows. “Is that all you think?”

“It doesn’t really matter what I think,” she said carefully. “This is your decision.”

“But I’m asking you.”

Elizabeth sighed, then got to her feet. She was tired, and she knew Jason was supposed to be out on business most of the night. She really just wanted to go to bed and never talk about Carly or her children again.

“Look, at the end of the day, what AJ wants from you isn’t yours to give,” she said bluntly, and he blinked at that. “He’s asking you not to destroy his family because he thinks you’re going to want, at the very least, joint custody of this baby he’s told the world is his. If the family finds out it’s not, he’ll feel pressured to divorce her. That’s his problem, and I don’t feel sorry for him. He knew what he was doing when he married her. And the only reason AJ’s even bothering to cover for Carly is because he thinks it’s yours.”

“I—”

“Because it’s karma for him after you lied about Michael. He just get a little credit for asking permission. If he knew it was Sonny’s, this wouldn’t be a conversation and you know that. You want my blessing to tell AJ you’ll keep quiet, I’m not going to give it.”

Jason’s face tightened. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Elizabeth said, wishing she’d kept her own mouth shut at this point, “that whatever you or I feel about Sonny right now, I don’t know that he’s done anything to deserve being kept in the dark. But this isn’t my problem. It’s not my secret. I think you’re wrong not to tell him. But you get to be wrong, Jason. Isn’t what you wanted? The freedom to make mistakes?”

“Yeah, but—”

“I told you I wasn’t going to make this choice for you, and I won’t. AJ, Carly, and Sonny—these are your people, not mine. This has nothing to do with me. Except that I’m married to you.” She folded her arms. “Keep the secret, tell the truth—it’s your choice.”

“But you think I’m wrong.”

“You are wrong,” she said gently, but he still flinched. “And the worst part is you know it. But you don’t want to talk about why you’re doing it, and until then, I don’t know if it does us any good to talk about it.”

“I—”

“This isn’t a secret that affects our everyday life,” she continued, even though she wasn’t entirely convinced of that. “It’s not like Robin. You’re not asking me to raise another woman’s son conceived while we were together. This baby? Not my problem. I feel sorry for those kids. Whatever happens.”

Jason cleared his throat, then looked at the clock across the room. “I have to go.” He started past her, then stopped and took her by the shoulders. “Thank you.”

She raised her brow. “For what?”

“You’re unhappy with this,” he said, “and I guess we still need to talk about it, but thank you for at least telling me. Robin never—she didn’t really. And maybe she just thought it would go away. I didn’t know how unhappy she was until it was too late. I can’t fix anything if I don’t know.”

“Well, then I guess you’re welcome.” She stroked his jaw, knowing what he was leaving to do and wishing he wasn’t so twisted up about all of this. “Be careful tonight, okay? I want to be able to argue with you when you come home.”

He kissed the tip of her fingers, then leaned down for a longer, lingering embrace. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Me either.”

“I’ll be careful.” He kissed her again, then left. She watched him go. Tonight, the problem with Sorel was supposed to be over—

But she knew something much worse was on the horizon. Sorel was nothing more than a physical threat, and those didn’t scare her. They still hadn’t really dealt with Carly, and why Jason was really keeping this secret for her.

And whether or not Elizabeth had been unintentionally lying to Jason when she said this wouldn’t affect them or that this wasn’t like Robin. Robin hadn’t confronted Jason on Carly because she’d been scared of the answer. Elizabeth understood the other woman for the first time—and how she’d been pushed so far over the edge, she’d blown up Jason’s life.

Elizabeth wasn’t going to do that, but she also wasn’t interested in sitting around for a year while Carly sat in the wings. One way or another, Jason was going to have to choose.

May 22, 2022

This entry is part 34 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 56 minutes.


Tuesday, February 1, 2000

Studio

Elizabeth swirled the last paintbrush in the sink, then set it aside to dry. She glanced over her shoulder at the canvas on the easel across the room, studying it with a critical eye. It was her third attempt at trying to recreate The Wind which had been destroyed the day the PCPD raided the penthouse, but she hadn’t quite recaptured the way she’d felt that first time.

That first try had been messy with some splatters and drips, but it had felt right. Every other attempt just felt like she was copying her own work.

She exhaled on a huff, then checked the clock. Her morning classes were over, and she was supposed to meet Jason for dinner—if she didn’t leave right now, she’d be late. While things were quiet on most fronts, she knew Jason hadn’t yet dealt with Sorel. It had been a little over two weeks since the disastrous wedding reception, and the tension still hung in the air. With Sorel, with Sonny—

With Carly.

She shoved all of that out of her head, covered the canvas with a sheet, then tugged on her jacket. Time to stop thinking about all of the things she had no control over and go home to meet her husband.

Elm Street Pier

She jogged down the steps to the pier, crossing towards Bannister’s Wharf and the parking lot where the car waited. Several feet behind her, a guard trailed. She always felt bad for the guards assigned to her — they were supposed to follow her around, but she had such short legs. How did they stay behind without basically dragging their own feet?

Distracted for a moment by the thought of the tall, blond, muscular Francis Corelli keeping the pace of a turtle, Elizabeth didn’t hear the other footsteps until two men stepped out from the steps leading up to the wharf.  She stumbled to a stop, and almost as quickly, Francis stepped up and slid in front of her.

“Ah, Mrs. Morgan.” Joseph Sorel smiled, flashing his even white teeth. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Out of the way,” Francis stated simply, taking Elizabeth by the elbow. “Now.”

“This is a public dock,” Sorel murmured. “I can walk where I wish.”

“Let’s just go back,” Elizabeth told Francis. They’d go back to the studio or towards Kelly’s. Francis nodded, and they started to turn.

“I’m surprised you’ve returned to your, ah, studio.”

“Ignore him,” Francis muttered, and Elizabeth agreed. They were already at the stairs with Francis almost shoving her onto the bottom step.

Then Sorel spoke again. “Those bad manners are showing again. No greeting, no goodbye. You don’t even let a man finish his sentence before you hang up.”

Elizabeth froze, turned just a moment to meet Sorel’s eyes. Hang up.

She’d hung up on him that night at the studio, when it was clear that he’d be of no use to her.  He’d claimed it wasn’t him, but she’d always known it was. She’d heard his voice that night at the reception and recognized it, the smooth lies over the oily tone. Insincerity oozing from every word.

He’d chosen his words carefully to remind her. To carry a message. He’d gotten to her in the studio. In the limo. Today on the docks.

If not for a bad charge on the bomb on New Year’s, Elizabeth might already be dead.

“When you show me a man worth respecting,” Elizabeth said coolly, “then we can discuss manners.” Then she turned away, continuing her climb, her heart pounding, Francis’s boots echoing in her ears.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Jason’s fists were clenched as he shoved the door open to the penthouse and stalked inside. “What?”

Sonny scowled at the entrance, then crossed to the minibar. “I don’t know why you’re so angry with me already,” he bit out. “I didn’t do anything—”

“I have things to deal with—”

“And we need to talk about what happened on the docks.” Sonny arched a brow. “Or were you planning to just go out and shoot Sorel where you found him?”

His throat was tight as Jason just kept his mouth shut. Elizabeth and Francis had related the incident on the docks, and Sonny had called him over almost right away. He hadn’t even processed what had happened yet. Really taken in that Sorel had been stupid enough again to approach Elizabeth.

“Because I thought that was the plan two weeks ago,” Sonny continued when Jason had said nothing. “But you’ve done nothing—”

“He never goes anywhere alone,” Jason bit out. “And today was the first time he was out in public. He’s waiting. He knows I’m coming—”

“And so he decided to step out and taunt you today,” Sonny pointed out. “Look, you don’t have to trust or respect me—” His eyes flashed with a mixture of irritation and hurt. “But I still know what the hell I’m doing. He didn’t just show himself to Elizabeth. That’s not what Francis reported.”

“No.” Jason exhaled slowly, his hands going to his waist. “He accused her of having no manners. Of being the type to hang up on someone. He chose those words deliberately, and she knew it. If he’d just wanted to insult her, he would have just called her rude for walking away. But we never told anyone that Elizabeth hung up that night. They know she claimed to hear from Sorel, but the hangup—”

“It’s something only Sorel would have known about. He wanted you to know that he was behind it, Jason. Either he’s arrogant to the point of stupidity or he’s planning something—” Sonny hesitated. “I’m worried if we just take him out now, if there’s a back up plan. If something gets triggered if he goes missing—”

“I can’t worry about that. I can’t,” Jason repeated. “And you know it.”

“I just—” Sonny shook his head. “We need to be ready for anything. I want him gone, too. That’s three times he’s gone for Elizabeth. I don’t want her in danger either. I never wanted that—”

“It was just a risk you were willing to take,” Jason bit out.

“And it’s one you were, too,” Sonny shot back. “You married her, didn’t you? You could have left. Yeah, things would have gone to hell with Carly, but she would have been out of it with Sorel, and you knew it. You decided to stay.” His eyes burned into his. “I told you to go, didn’t I? Stop being so pissed off at me because we knew this would happen if you did!”

Jason didn’t have an answer for that. Of course not. He’d stayed because Elizabeth had wanted him to, because he hadn’t wanted to go. But the only way to be sure Sorel wouldn’t use her was not to be in town. He’d put her in the middle of everything by marrying her.

“That doesn’t change what you did—”

“No, but I’ll be damned if I take any of the blame for her being in this situation in the first place.” Sonny tossed back the last of his bourbon. “You were the one that stayed in her studio even after people knew you were there. You used her to stay out of sight.”

Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. This wasn’t getting them anywhere. “I don’t want to fight about this anymore,” he growled. “It is what is.” And damn it, Sonny had a goddamn point. The reception was his fault, but everything else—

“When you make the hit,” Sonny said, and Jason focused on him, “we need to make sure everything is covered. Elizabeth doesn’t make a move without Francis, and we might want to add more plain clothes protection. For both of you.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“And let’s make sure this son of a bitch doesn’t get another chance at Elizabeth.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth paced the area in front of the fireplace, twisting her hands, waiting for Jason to return from Sonny’s. She hadn’t even been able to tell him more than the content of the conversation before he’d had to leave.

Maybe she shouldn’t have stopped. Or maybe she shouldn’t have gone to the studio. They’d said it was okay, that there was security—

The door opened and Elizabeth spun around to find Jason quietly closing the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, meeting her eyes from across the room.

“Is, um, everything okay?”

“Yeah. Sonny just wanted to check in.” Jason flicked the lock, then approached her. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I guess. I don’t know,” she added when he just raised his brows. “It was just…weird, I guess. I did what I’m supposed to do. You know, I just turned and left. I didn’t say anything to him until—”

“Until he reminded you of New Year’s.”

She winced. “Yeah. I don’t know why hearing him confirm made me feel jumpy. Or why it makes you so mad. We both knew he did it—”

“Yeah—” He slid his hands from her shoulders down to her elbows, then repeated. His touch calmed the jitters in her stomach. “But today, he made sure we didn’t have any doubt. He tried to kill you. Almost did.”

“Yeah. With everything that’s happened since then—” A month ago. That’s all it had been. A month earlier, she’d been worrying herself silly over sleeping with Jason and made a nearly fatal mistake in returning to the studio alone. What a lifetime it seemed now. “I never really sat with it. Carly started making her threats—”

“And then we got married,” he murmured, “and the PCPD—” Then Carly again, but they didn’t say anything about that. Better to think of Carly as something they’d already dealt with. Elizabeth knew Jason wasn’t going to say another word about the baby until those paternity results came in. And why Jason believed Carly would play any of this straight—

No room for that conversation today either.

“You did everything right,” Jason reassured her. “You followed Francis, you didn’t engage in conversation. Sorel wanted you to take a message. You did that.”

“I did kind of get snippy with him at the end,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“Yeah, well, he had that coming.” He kissed her forehead, but lingered, his fingers tightening at her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t—”

“I’m not sorry we’re standing where we are,” he said, drawing back for a moment. He took her hand in his, his fingers tracing over her wedding ring. “But Sorel is going after you because of me. And Sonny reminded me—” Jason’s eyes clouded over. “The reception might be his fault, but the rest of it—”

“It’s no one’s fault—”

“When I was going to leave town,” Jason told her, “it wasn’t just because of Carly. I knew if I were out of the picture permanently, Sorel would lose interest in you. I stayed.”

“I made you,” Elizabeth insisted. “And I knew—”

“You made a case,” Jason corrected, “and I agreed. I wanted to be here. With you,” he added, and she flushed at that, but managed smile. “But I knew that it meant you’d still in the middle of this. That Sorel might see you as someone to use. I could have stopped it. I didn’t.”

“The only way to stop it was to lose this.” Elizabeth leaned up on her toes to kiss him. “And I’ll never be sorry I fought to keep it.”

“Me either.” He tangled his hands in her hair and kissed her back.

Quartermaine Mansion: Family Room

AJ sipped some water and perused the day’s papers, reading the sections he’d skipped earlier that morning. The house was quiet for once—his grandfather at ELQ, his parents at the hospital, and Carly had gone shopping with Michael. It wasn’t often he got to sit by himself, with his own thoughts.

“Junior. I was hoping to find you in here.”

AJ looked up, grimacing as Ned sauntered in. “Why?” he wanted to know, folding the paper and tossing it aside. “What do you want now?”

“I’ve had some time to think it over.” Ned sat on the sofa, leaning back and crossing one leg over his high. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” he continued, “but the longer I sat with it, the more I decided I should at least tell you what I’m thinking.”

“If this is about the pharmaceutical proposal—”

“It’s about Carly.”

AJ got to his feet, shook his head. “I don’t want to listen to any more of how I’m letting Carly ruin the family—”

“If you go through with pretending you’re the father of this child, it won’t just ruin your family. It’ll ruin everyone else’s.”

AJ stopped at the doorway, turned back to Ned, then closed the door. “I’m not pretending.”

Ned stood with a shake of his head. “You are. And I don’t blame you. There’s karma in this, I get it. Jason took a year of Michael’s life away from you. And we both know he’s still the ghost in your marriage. For the last year, Carly’s schemed to get Jason back. If you hadn’t made her sign that prenup, she’d already be gone.”

AJ’s throat was tight. “Maybe. But she’s here. And we’re making it work.”

“She’s not a terrible mother, so I get why you’re doing this. I barely see my daughter.” Ned grimaced. “Divorce is hell, even when it’s civil. I’ll never be the father I wanted to be for Brooke Lynn, not as long as she’s in New York with Lois. I get that you don’t want that for Michael—”

“Get to the point, Ned—”

“Jason was a good father,” his cousin said softly, and AJ scowled. “It doesn’t matter that he didn’t have the right. He was good to Michael—”

“And if he were the father, which he’s not, it would mean he had an affair with my wife,” AJ bit out. “You think he needs to be rewarded for that—”

“You married Carly knowing that was probably going to happen. Jason doesn’t owe you fidelity or loyalty. Especially after you slammed his head into a rock—”

“Damn it—”

“Carly made you those promises. She’s the one that broke them. And right now, she’s the only one getting away with it. How is that fair to anyone?”

May 15, 2022

This entry is part 33 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 56 minutes.


Monday, January 14, 2000

Quartermaine Estate: Gardens

Jason paced the small clearing at the center of the Quartermaine gardens, an itch between his shoulder blades. He hated being on the grounds of this place and only rarely visited for Lila’s sake. He adored his grandmother, but he could happily watch this place burn to the ground.

But he couldn’t think of anywhere else to have this conversation that was safe for him. Or for her. He’d waited to send word until AJ was out of the house, and the only person at home was Lila who would never breathe a word to anyone even if she knew.

There was a rustling of branches and leaves as Carly stepped around the hedges, her eyes lit with excitement, her cheeks flushed. “I knew you’d come to your senses—” she said, hurrying forward.

He put a hand up and she halted, drawing her brows together. “Give me one good reason why I don’t tell everyone the truth,” he said flatly.

Carly swallowed hard, hurt flashing in her dark eyes. He ignored the twist in his gut. “What truth?” she managed.

“You’re pregnant,” Jason said. “And Bobbie’s looking at me like I’m supposed to do something.” He gritted his teeth. “She won’t be the only one who wonders—”

“Jason—”

“Is it Sonny’s baby?” Jason interrupted. “And don’t lie to me, Carly. I always find out. For once in your goddamn life, tell me the truth.”

She exhaled slowly, closed her eyes. “I don’t know. It could be AJ’s.” Carly opened her eyes, met his eyes. “I need time, okay? A few months. Paternity tests are risky, and after everything with Michael—what’s the point in blowing up my life if AJ is the father?”

Months of everyone staring at him, thinking it might be his—Jason didn’t give a damn about himself, but he knew it would wear on Elizabeth. She might be smiling and bearing it now, but how long would that last?

But why would he destroy Michael’s life if he didn’t have to?

“I want the test,” Jason said finally. “When you have it done. I want the results, Carly. And if you pull the same crap on me that you did with Tony, you’ll regret it.”

“I know—” Relief flooded her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you. I know I don’t deserve this—”

“You don’t. But Michael does.” Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. “Stay away from me, Carly. The best thing for all of us is if we don’t have anything to do with one another.”

“Right. Right. Thank you.” Carly edged back. “I should go.” She disappeared around the hedge, and Jason put her out of his mind just as quickly.

He had another meeting to get to.

No Name Restaurant: Back Room

Sonny got to his feet when Jason strode through the doors, putting up his hand. “Before we go in—”

“I’m doing the talking,” Jason said. “The rest of you have had your chance to deal with this.” Elizabeth was walking better and she’d gone to work today, but she was still limping.

And he’d never forget coming to his senses in the middle of the park, laying partially down a hill, with her sprawled over him to protect him.

Sonny had nearly gotten her killed. The men in that room had played with her life.

Jason was done with the politics of it all.

“I know, but—” Sonny stepped in front of Jason. “They don’t need to know we have issues, do they?” he demanded in a hushed, but urgent voice. “They’ll smell the blood in the water.”

“You think they don’t already?” Jason demanded, but the guilt sank in for the secret he was keeping. Did Sonny deserve to know there was a chance Carly was pregnant with his child? Was it right to keep it all quiet?  “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Inside, a small cluster of men was milling around a table. It was early, but more than one of them was already drinking.

Daniel Vega broke away from Tagliatti and crossed to Jason. “I’m glad you could come. I wanted to apologize for what happened—”

Jason forced himself to accept the handshake. Nothing would be solved if he just punched everyone he saw today, even though he wanted to draw blood. The rage had ignited all over again just looking at their damn faces. Their smug expressions. They figured they’d smooth things over because that’s how things were done—

Not this time.

“Carlotta asked after your wife,” Daniel murmured, drawing closer. “She wanted to visit, but I thought you might not want to see anyone for a few days.” He smiled wryly. “Or ever.”

“She can come whenever she wants,” Jason muttered, remembering the kindness of Daniel’s wife and Elizabeth’s delight in meeting her. “The rest of you? No.”

“Fair enough.” Daniel stepped back. “We wanted to talk about Friday. What went wrong, and what we should do next—”

“Sorel is clearly a problem we need to resolve,” Tagliatti began.

“What went wrong is you thought you could play Sorel,” Jason interrupted, and there was a stony silence. “You thought you had him under control. He saw Friday coming. Why do you think he forced his way into an invitation? Why do you think he cut in to dance with my wife? He wanted to show us all that he’s the one in control.” And he had been, Jason thought. Because these men had been blinded by arrogance and Jason by rage. They’d made mistakes.

“We tried your way,” Jason said simply. “Now we’ll do it my way. I’ll take care of Sorel. A few weeks to let his guard down, and then I’ll make him disappear.” He lifted his chin. “Any questions?”

“Sonny—” Tagliatti began, but Daniel shook his head.

“The boy is right,” Daniel declared, and some of the other men who had looked irritated subsided. “He did what we asked, and nearly paid a heavy price. We owe him a chance to handle it.” He faced Jason. “But don’t wait too long. Sorel is too unpredictable to stay on the loose.”

Kelly’s: Kitchen

Elizabeth winced, shifting her weight from one foot to another. She would have called out today, but she’d already given her two week notice and it felt disrespectful to duck out on another shift in the middle of that.

She managed to get through the breakfast shift before limping into the kitchen and sitting on a stool. DJ, the cook, eyed her with some concern. “You good, Lizzie?”

“No, but I only have four more hours,” she muttered. She took the glass of water he offered. “I cut my foot over the weekend.”

“Okay.” DJ shrugged. “I’m on my break,” he told her, shrugging into his jacket. “Back in fifteen.”

“No problem. It’s just coffee drinkers right now.” The cook disappeared into the alley for his usual cigarettes, and Elizabeth wiggled her toes in her sneaker, trying to absorb the aches.

“Oh, I thought I’d find you in here.”

Elizabeth twisted to find Bobbie coming down the back stairs. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I came early to do an inventory of the rooms upstairs,” Bobbie said. She furrowed her brow. “You all right?”

“Cut my foot,” Elizabeth said blandly. “What did you want?”

“I thought we should talk about this Jason thing on our own.” Bobbie pitched her voice lower. “Away from him. I know you think you need to follow his lead—”

“Bobbie, this isn’t my business—”

“It really is,” the nurse insisted. “Jason might be able to ignore it for now because the baby isn’t here, but what happens after it’s born? Do you really think Jason can walk away from his own child?”

“No, and I would never ask him to,” Elizabeth said carefully. “But that’s not what’s happening here—”

“I know it hurts you to think of him together with Carly only a short time ago,” Bobbie said, and Elizabeth’s chest tightened. “But ignoring it isn’t going to help. I don’t think her relationship with AJ turned until she went to the police. AJ made her do that, you know. I think he leveraged their marriage.”

Elizabeth blinked at her. “I don’t understand—”

“I just—I’m not as convinced as Jason seems to be that there’s a good chance this is AJ’s child. Yes, it would be easier for everyone everyone involved—”

“Wouldn’t AJ already know that?” Elizabeth interrupted. “I mean, Bobbie, you’re assuming a whole lot. AJ would know if there’s a chance and he hasn’t said anything—”

“Because raising Jason’s child would be a good bit of revenge,” Bobbie said softly, and Elizabeth closed her mouth. “Karmic justice. AJ could save face with everyone, keep his family together, and take Jason’s child from him.”

“Maybe,” Elizabeth said. “But—”

“Have you and Jason talked about Carly?” Bobbie wanted to know. “I hate to push you, sweetheart, but I think ignoring the fact that Jason was, until very recently, involved with Carly, is only going to be a problem down the road.”

Elizabeth stared down at her hands. “I know.”

“I married someone on the rebound, you know.” Bobbie tilted Elizabeth’s chin up. “I divorced Tony and married Stefan before the ink on the papers was dry. I had my reasons for thinking it would work out, but I know better than anyone. If you don’t resolve the past, you can’t go on—”

“Bobbie—it’s not like Jason and I got married for the usual reasons,” Elizabeth said with a forced shrug.

“I know that. But you can’t tell me you’re not married now.” Bobbie stepped back. “I just want you to be okay, Elizabeth. You and Jason. And I just have this terrible feeling about how this will end if we ignore what’s going on.”

“I’ll talk to Jason, but I’m not going to push him.” Elizabeth got to her feet, wincing again. “I’m not Robin. I’m not Sonny. I won’t force him into making a decision he’s not ready to make.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth pushed open the door and smiled when she found Jason in the empty space behind the sofa by the balcony. “Hey. I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“I wanted to see how you were after work.” Jason strode forward and plucked her off her feet.

“Sore,” she admitted, sighing happily as he set her on the sofa, then plumped the pillow behind her head. “Were you measuring back there?”

“Wondering if a pool table would fit,” he admitted, sitting on the sofa. He tugged off her shoes and socks.

“Oh, don’t, they’re—” she sighed as Jason pulled out the first aid kit he’d left on the coffee table and started cleaning the last of her cuts. “I’m not going to argue anymore.”

“That’d be new,” he teased, and she smiled again. Then she closed her eyes, felt herself start to drift. It had been such a long, painful shift.

“I went to see Carly today.”

Elizabeth’s eyes snapped and she stared at him, suddenly alert. “You did?”

“I wanted to know if the baby was Sonny or AJ’s.” Jason hesitated. “She said she doesn’t know. Asked for time so she could do a paternity test.”

“And you believe her?”

“I believe she wants time,” Jason said slowly. “I don’t know if I believe that she doesn’t know. I just—” he shook his head. “I told her I wanted a copy of the paternity test, and I’ll find out if it’s real or not. So maybe she was telling the truth.”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth laid back, stared at the ceiling. Thinking of Bobbie’s words. She didn’t want to talk about Carly. She never wanted to talk about the toxic blonde again, but the universe wasn’t really giving her a break. “Bobbie was at Kelly’s today.”

Jason tensed, pausing for a moment, then finished replacing the last bandage on her foot. He closed up the kit. “Yeah?”

“She thinks there’s a good chance AJ is covering for Carly because he thinks it’s your baby. That he’d see it as a revenge for Michael.”

“He probably would,” Jason admitted. “But it’s not mine—”

“I know that.”

“Bobbie won’t be the only person who thinks it,” he said, echoing their conversation from a few days earlier. “I know that bothers you.”

“It shouldn’t. I know the truth.” But it was there. A little tug in her gut that twisted everything and made it feel sour. “It’s not just that.” He didn’t say anything, so she continued. “I know you want to protect Michael. I believe you. But…he’s only two. Do you really think AJ and Carly are going to last forever? Isn’t it more likely that they’re going to split later? Wouldn’t it be better now when he’s too young to really remember?”

“Maybe,” Jason admitted. “But that won’t be my fault. This would be—”

“It would be Carly’s,” Elizabeth insisted. She sat up, on her elbows. “And maybe that’s it. Maybe it feels like you’re protecting her more than Michael.”

“I’m protecting us,” Jason corrected with a flare of irritation. “If I blow up Carly’s life, she’ll just come after us again. At least this way, we get a break. I’m still dealing with Sorel—” He tensed. “If you think you can’t keep the secret, I need to know now—”

“I’m not going to say anything,” Elizabeth cut in, knowing he was thinking of Robin. “This isn’t about me. And because I know it’s not your baby, it doesn’t really affect us. It’s just—” She bit her lip. “Whatever you want to do, Jason, I’m going to support you. I know you don’t believe that—”

“I do—”

“You don’t, but that’s okay. You’ve been here before.” He met her eyes. “Everyone thought Michael was yours. And Robin managed to deal with it as long as Carly wasn’t around. It poisoned things with her, though, didn’t it? Asking her to keep the secret. To let people think you cheated on her.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not what’s happening here. I’m telling you that I don’t agree with you keeping this secret, but that’s as far as it goes. I know why you’re doing it. Mostly. And you know why you’re doing it. Carly wants more time. We’ll give it to her.” She reached for his hand. “You get to make your own choices, Jason. Your own mistakes. And this is yours to make.”

“But you think it’s a mistake.”

“I do,” Elizabeth forced out. “But maybe I’m wrong. I could be.”

Jason exhaled slowly, looked up at the ceiling, then back at her. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is,” he admitted. “I just can’t blow everything up. Not yet.”

“Then you won’t. And we’ll see what happens.”

May 8, 2022

This entry is part 32 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 64 minutes.


Friday, January 14, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bathroom

This is your life, not mine. And I don’t want it anymore. I’m done.

With those words echoing in the air, Jason stalked upstairs and left Sonny alone in the living room. He didn’t want to think about the man anymore tonight. Not when he had his own guilt twisting in his stomach.

For all that he blamed Sonny, Jason knew he was the real culprit. Sonny had put them in a dangerous situation, but it was Jason’s mistakes that had led to Elizabeth nearly being kidnapped and dragged through the park until her feet had been sliced into ribbons.

He knocked lightly on the ajar door, then smiled faintly when he pushed it open. Elizabeth was still soaking in the bubble bath, her feet propped up at the end on a pile of towers. Her head was turned to the side, cushioned by another folded towel, her eyes closed, the steam of the water flushing her pale skin. The tendrils of curls that had escaped from the pile she’d gathered on top were damp, clinging to her cheeks.

He could breath a little easier. She was safe, tucked away where nothing could hurt her. Everything else could wait.

Jason knelt down next to the tub. “Hey,” he murmured, brushing the back of his knuckles down her cheek. “You awake?”

“Barely.” Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered and she turned her head back, smiling at him. “How long was I out?”

“Not long. You wanna soak longer, or—”

“No. I’m going to end up wrinkled like a prune.” Elizabeth’s nose scrunched up as she tried to sit up, but remembered her feet which needed to stay dry. “Ugh.”

“I got it.” Jason found a plush bath towel in a cabinet and within a few minutes, he’d lifted her from the water, wrapped it around her, and then deposited her on the bed. He crossed to the dresser. “What do you want to sleep in?”

“One of your shirts?” she asked hesitantly. He turned back to her, and Elizabeth smiled ruefully. “They’re comfortable.”

He liked her in his shirts, so there was no argument from him. He grabbed a blue one from a drawer.

“Um, are things okay?” Elizabeth asked, tugging it over her head. Jason didn’t answer first, disappearing into the bathroom to dump the used towels in the laundry hamper and drain the tub.

When he returned to the bedroom, she’d scooted back against the headboard, the comforter folded back. “They’re okay for tonight,” Jason said finally. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Didn’t want to tell her how much of the terror she’d experienced was his fault.

It burned him, like acid searing holes inside. It could have been so much worse—so much more tragic—what if the man driving had shot and killed them both—what if there had been a bomb—

He’d been stupid. Foolish. His anger had clouded his judgment, and Jason had thought he was better than that. He’d learned to harness his emotions. To turn them off and focus. Then Sorel had cut into the dance and put his hands on Elizabeth—

He’d just wanted her out of there.

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” Elizabeth offered. “I mean, we don’t have to at all. I don’t know what I’m supposed to ask or not. I mean—” She bit her lip. “I was part of it tonight, but I know I can’t know everything. I don’t want to—”

Jason crawled into bed next to her, having changed into a pair of sweats. “Hey.” He tugged her into his arms and she snuggled next to him, tucking her head under his chin. “You can ask whatever you want whenever you want. I might not always be able to answer, but you get to ask, Elizabeth. And this—this isn’t normal. It won’t be. I promise.” He wouldn’t let it be.

“Okay.”

“I just don’t want to think about it anymore tonight.” She was safe, the worst of her injuries were the cuts on her feet and he still had a nagging headache, but he’d escaped a concussion. They’d been lucky.

No thanks to him.

Saturday, January 12, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“I could probably manage it myself,” Elizabeth said with a grumble as Jason stepped off the bottom stair and carried her over to the sofa. “One of my feet almost feels normal, so I could—”

“And with more rest,” Jason said patiently, arranging a pillow behind her back, “you’ll have both of them.” He raised his brows at her. “You nearly fell over trying to get to the bathroom—”

“Yeah, but—” Elizabeth made a face. “I can take care of myself,” she muttered, picking at a loose thread on her sweater.

“I know you can—” Jason lifted her legs so that he could sit down. “Why is it so hard for you to accept help?” he asked, a thread of irritation lacing his tone. She blinked at him. “You’re injured. It’s hard for you to walk comfortably. Why can’t I just carry you around for a few days until you feel better?”

When he put it that way—  “I just…” Elizabeth shrugged one shoulder, a bit embarrassed. She shouldn’t have said anything. She sounded like an insane person, protesting someone taking care of her, but— “I’m not good at relying on people,” she said finally. “And the last time I trusted someone would be there…”

He’d died.

Jason exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry,” he said after a long moment. “I don’t like asking for help either,” he reminded her. “I know I wasn’t the most cooperative patient last month either.”

Last month felt like an eternity now. Had it only been six weeks since that terrible morning she’d gone to the boxcar and found Jason bloody and frozen in the snow?

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth echoed. “I’ll try to enjoy the benefits of being injured. I mean, it’s not like I don’t like when you carry me,” she added and he grinned at her. “I’m just being a baby.”

“You’re not.” He squeezed her ankle. “You want something to eat? Hot chocolate or something?”

“Yeah, but first—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I know you didn’t want to talk about it last night and we really don’t have to right now, but Max—the guard who drive us last night—I was wondering if he was okay.”

“I’ll go make some calls and get you something to eat.” He rose to his feet and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back.”

A short time later, Jason brought out a mug of hot chocolate and a bagel, along with a cup of coffee for himself. “Max is recovering at our clinic,” Jason told her, settling himself back on the sofa, her legs draped over his lap again. “Doc says it’ll be a full recovery. He got lucky.”

“Good.”

They didn’t talk about it again until she’d finished her food and set the empty plate on the coffee table, but she knew he was thinking about it. She didn’t know what to say to him—if it would be better to push him or to let him bring it up on her own—he’d told her it was okay to ask, but maybe it was just going to hurt him—

“I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth blinked at Jason’s unexpected apology. “For what?”

“Last night.” He traced the edges of her knee through her sweatpants, not meeting her eyes. “It was my fault.”

“Jason—”

“I want to blame Sonny. I do,” he added, “but he’s not the reason last night happened.” Jason cleared his throat. “I didn’t check the car.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, taking in Jason’s words. Remembering the night before as he’d hustled her out of the club and into the waiting limo. “You mean to make sure it was Max driving.”

“Yeah. If I’d done that—if I’d done the sweep I’m supposed to do—” Now Jason met her eyes. “That’s what happened to Lily, you know. They were celebrating at Luke’s and Sonny had too much to drink. She took the keys. No guards. Sonny would have checked the car. He would have known to. But he didn’t. He was too tipsy. And Lily died.”

And so did Sonny’s unborn child.

“I didn’t do a bomb sweep,” Jason muttered. “I didn’t check the driver. I didn’t do anything. I just want you out of that restaurant. Away from all those people.”

“Away from Sorel.”

“Yeah.”

She exhaled slowly. “You know that’s why he cut into the dance, then Jason frowned, met her eyes. “Well, I mean, other than to be a pain. He had to know it would irritate you. He waited until we were supposed to leave, and got you mad.”

“And I got careless,” he bit out. He shoved himself to his feet, careful not to jostle her feet. “I let my anger take over. You could have died. You almost did.” He stalked over to the balcony doors, staring out into the gloomy and overcast January morning.

“You almost did, too,” Elizabeth pointed out. She set her feet down, wincing as she stood and hobbled over to him. “On the trail—”

Jason turned, scowling to find her standing behind him. “You should be—”

“I’m fine—” Elizabeth put her hands on his forearms as they reached out to her. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you. I was scared last night. When we were in the park, and you were unconscious—I might have nightmares about what would have happened if I hadn’t been able to get you down that hill. And thank God you didn’t hit a rock when you feel. Or another one on the way down.” Her throat burned from the memory. “I got you out of sight, and then I plastered myself over you so they wouldn’t see you—”

“Damn it—”

“You would have done the same for me,” Elizabeth interrupted with a shake of her head. “So don’t argue.”

“I’m not—”

“And it’s not going to do either of us any good to pretend you’re not right about last night.” She took a deep breath. “You made a mistake. Letting Sorel to get you like that. Not checking the car.”

Jason fell silent, his expression stony, his body tense.

“But I made mistakes, too. I didn’t ask about things going wrong. I didn’t ask about security protocol. Not all of it. I know now that cars should be swept. Checked for drivers.” Elizabeth paused. “I’m new at this, and I’m not alway going to get it right—”

“None of this is your fault—”

“If you get to take responsibility for what you did wrong, then I get to take it, too. I was so relieved to be out of there, I didn’t think either. But it makes sense. We just got into the car that was outside because Sonny told us it would be pulled up. We’re both smarter than that, Jason. But Sorel got to us both.” She tightened her hands on his arms. “So we learn from those mistakes, right? We get to be grateful that we get another chance.”

The tension eased from his body then, and Jason sighed, meeting her eyes. “I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away,” he admitted.

“I’d blame me. I knew who you were, Jason, when we got into this. When I signed that marriage license—nothing here is new.” She made a face. “Except that you were right. I shouldn’t be standing.”

Jason scowled, then scooped her into his arms to take her back to the sofa. “I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, settling back against the pillow. There was a knock at the door, and she sighed, letting her head fall back. He went to answer it.

Jason’s scowl deepened when he found Sonny on the other side. “What?”

“Uh, I wanted to see how Elizabeth was feeling this morning—” Sonny tipped his head around to look at Elizabeth. “Her feet looked pretty bad—”

“She’s fine.”

“Jason—”

“I don’t want to deal with this right now,” Jason told him, his fingers gripping the edge of the door tightly. “Because last night was my fault, too.”

“Jase—”

“You put us in the middle of everything, but I’m the one that put her in the car.” Jason lifted his chin. “We tried dealing with Sorel your way. Now we’re going to do it mine.”

“Yeah—”

“I want a meeting,” Jason cut in again. “Tell me when it’s scheduled.” Then he closed his door and went back to Elizabeth.

There was another knock a few hours later which Jason saw almost as a relief since Elizabeth was starting to get a little stir crazy and bored by television. He hoped it wasn’t Sonny, but he definitely wasn’t expecting—

“Bobbie.”

“Do you have a minute?” Bobbie asked. Jason nodded, and let her enter. Bobbie hesitated, spying Elizabeth on the sofa, her feet bandaged. “What happened?”

“Broke a glass last night and sliced up my feet.” Elizabeth shrugged. “You know I’m a klutz.”

Bobbie pursed her lips, then turned back to Jason. “I don’t know if you’ve heard about Carly—”

“About her being pregnant?” Jason wanted to know. He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. Emily said something a few days ago.”

“I—” Bobbie cleared her throat. “I debated whether I even wanted to do this. If Carly was right, and I should leave well enough alone. It’s better the way things you are,” she continued. “Michael gets to have his parents, and you get to move on.”

“Bobbie—” Jason began, his brow furrowed.

She turned away from him to Elizabeth, who was also frowning. “And I wouldn’t want to hurt you for the world. But I can’t go through this again. I can’t hold this in and wait for another grandchild’s life to get blown up in a year or two.” She turned back to Jason. “You need to tell AJ he’s not the father.”

Jason squinted, then shook his head. “I don’t—”

“And you need to step up. I know it might hurt Michael in the short-term, but it’s the right decision for the truth to come out. It always does,” Bobbie added. “Demand a paternity test, tell AJ it might be yours. I don’t know. But we can’t just pretend. You can’t do this again, Jason.”

Jason closed his mouth, a bit helpless. Bobbie thought Jason was the father? How— He glanced at Elizabeth who had dropped her eyes, staring at her lap. If he told Bobbie there wasn’t a chance it was his, would she believe him? Would she keep investigating? Damn it—

“I’m not going to say anything. Not right now. I know that you don’t want to rock the boat. I know that you’re happier without her. Believe me, Jason, I don’t want this for any of this. But this is where we are. And I want to know what you’re going to do about it.”

“This isn’t something you and I are going to talk about,” Jason said finally. “It’s something I need to deal with. Okay? Elizabeth and I will deal with this.”

“Then do it.”

When Bobbie had left, Jason looked at Elizabeth with some worry. “She’s wrong. It’s not mine. I promise—”

“I know,” Elizabeth said. “You told me that already, and I believed you then.” There was a half smile tugging at her lips, but it was a sad one. “It could have been. You know that. Things go differently that night.”

“It wouldn’t—” Jason winced, then looked away. He didn’t want to touch that conversation with a ten foot pole.  “I still meant what I said before. There’s no point in blowing anything up until we know if it’s Sonny’s or AJ’s, and whatever Bobbie thinks, there’s a chance it’s AJ.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t sound particularly convinced, and that irritated him. “If it’s AJ, what’s the point in getting everyone upset?” he wanted to know. “It’s none of my business.”

“Do you think Bobbie’s the only one wondering?” Elizabeth asked. “You think no one is going to say anything to AJ? I just—” She shrugged. “It’s your choice at the end of the day, and I’m not telling you what to do.”

“I’ll figure something out. I promise,” he added. “It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks, does it?” he asked, sitting back on the sofa. “You and I know the truth.”

“I know.” Elizabeth forced a smile. “You’ll handle it. And whatever you do, I’ll support. We can drop it.”

Jason knew they weren’t really dropping it, but there was nothing left to say if he didn’t want to get into the murkiness of his relationship with Carly or the way he’d felt about her only a short time ago.

And he had no intention of ever opening that door.

April 24, 2022

This entry is part 31 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Street

The car had barely come to a full stop before Jason had twisted, shoved the door open, and launched himself out of the car, reaching back in only for a second to wrap his arms around Elizabeth’s upper torso, already halfway out, and drag her the rest of the way.

And then they were flying. Legs pumping, hearts racing, the air rushing past them, with Jason’s hand tightly in hers, as he steered them down an alleyway, behind a row of buildings, then another alley—it felt like a twisted labyrinth and if he knew where they were, he didn’t stop to tell her.

She didn’t feel the ground beneath her stockinged feet at first, but then something sliced through, and she stumbled, her hand breaking from Jason’s. Elizabeth fell to her knees, swallowing the cry of pain.

Jason hissed, crouched down. “What is it?”

“Nothing—I’m fine—”

There was a shout, and he snapped his head up, focusing behind her.

“We need to go—” Elizabeth got to her feet, snatched his hand and they started to run again. She ignored the pain in her foot. Ignored the way the gravel and rocks bit into the tears in her stockings as they shredded into nothing more than irritants.

Jason took the lead again, turning down another alley, but this one butted up to Port Charles Park and she nearly wept from relief. Much of the park towards this side of town was covered in trees. They could get lost in the woods—

They started down a path, one that she vaguely recognized as twisting and turning through the west side of the park, leading out towards the business district. It would be crowded this time of night and maybe—

But then she didn’t think or speculate. The pain was sliding up her legs and it was getting harder to ignore, but she pushed past it. Jason would get her to safety. He would—

This time was it was Jason who stumbled, his foot caught on a tree root that had crept under the path. He went flying, his hand jerking out of her grasp, landing a few feet away, on his side.

She swallowed the cry that bubbled in her throat as she limped towards him, wincing at the blood on the side of his face. He’d hit his head—oh, God—there was crashing in the trees behind them in the distance. She had to—She had to get them off the path.

Grunting, Elizabeth pushed, rolling Jason’s unconscious form until there was a dip in the earth and it rolled on its own. She winced and rushed after it, relieved when he came to a rest a few feet below—just out of sight. Harsh, gasping sobs slipped out of her mouth as she frantically found some branches and leaves in the drifts of snow, hoping it would give them just enough cover. The crashing in the trees was closer now and she could hear voices and shouts, footsteps—

Elizabeth dropped down, flattening herself over Jason, burying her face in his chest and squeezing her eyes shut.

Please. Please. Please. Keep running. Don’t stop. Don’t see us. Please please please

The voices and footsteps ran past them, fading into the distance. But Elizabeth didn’t trust it. Didn’t believe they wouldn’t circle back.

She didn’t know how long she laid there, only that the pain in her feet was throbbing now, and snow had started fall again, the thick flakes all around them. The wind was picking up.

But the voices and footsteps hadn’t come back. Elizabeth raised herself up. They were alone. The woods around them were silent.

She looked at Jason, laying so still beneath her, but still breathing. “Jason.” She rolled off him, wincing at her feet. They could come later. Head wounds first— She knelt at his side, feeling the back of his head. The bleeding had stopped, so that was good—

“Jason—” She pressed her hands to his cheeks. “Please, please, open your eyes—”

He groaned first, but then his eyes opened, just a sliver. “Elizabeth—”

“Thank God. Thank God.” She lowered her brow to his. “You’re awake.”

He grunted, then shoved himself up, bringing her with him, looking around with confusion. “What—What happened—”

“You hit your—” The adrenaline was starting to fade and the fear and shock were setting in, her hands shaking as she tried to form words. “You hit your head. I—”

Jason exhaled slowly, then looked around again, more alert this time, taking in the pathway  nearly twenty feet away, slightly uphill. “We were being followed—”

“They went past. A while ago. I was—” She couldn’t say anything else. Couldn’t form the words. “They didn’t come back.”

Jason nodded, then took a deep breath. He dragged himself to his feet, lifting her up. She cried out as she put weight on her feet. She’d sat for too long— “Damn it,” he muttered. “We won’t get reception here,” he told her. “We have to move.”

“I know.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her limp back up to the path. “Your head,” Elizabeth said. “We need to get it looked at—”

“I’m fine. I just—” Jason twisted, looking at the path for the first time. He took out the phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. “One bar. Might be enough. We can go back the way we came, I think.” He crouched down, lifting one of her feet, trying to examine it in the inky darkness, nothing but the dim light of the cell phone to work with . “Damn it. How are you walking on this?”

“Think about it later,” Elizabeth suggested shakily, but clung to him tightly. He started to lift her into his arms, but she stopped him. “No, you can’t. You might have a concussion. I made it this far, okay? Let’s call Sonny and find somewhere to meet him.”

Jason was able to connect to Sonny long enough to give him a meeting place, then they limped back the way they came, dipping off the path at any strange sounds. No one came back, but that didn’t make either feel any safer.

Not until they left the path for a well-light street and the cafe Jason had given Sonny. There was a car parked in front, but he kept Elizabeth behind him until Sonny emerged from the passenger side, his face creased in worry.

“Jason hit his head, “Elizabeth blurted out as Sonny approached them. “We need a doctor—”

“I’m fine,” Jason repeated, turning to her. “You need—”

“You both look like hell. Richie will be waiting at the penthouse,” Sonny clipped out. He gestured for one of the guards to open the back door. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth never made a sound as their doctor gently worked on her feet, but Jason held her hand tightly. The doctor had to cut the stockings away from her ankles, then gently peel the shreds out of the various cuts and gashes in her feet before he could even disinfect and treat them.

“If I had left my shoes on, I’d have broken my ankle before we got out of the first alley,” Elizabeth reminded him with gritted teeth. “It was the only way.”

The only way.

She was right about that, of course. Once they’d been trapped in a limo, ditching the shoes and running was the only option available.

But it shouldn’t have been.

“You’ll want to stay off the feet for a few days,” Richie advised as he wrapped Elizabeth’s foot in gauze, then a wrap to protect the bandages. “Maybe longer. I don’t think any of the cuts need stitches, but we need to keep our eye out.” He glanced at Jason. “How’s the head?”

“Feels like hell,” Jason bit out. “But I’m fine—”

“You could have a concussion,” Elizabeth argued, shifting away now that her injuries had been seen to. “You were out for a while—”

“I know the symptoms,” he told her gently, squeezing her hand. “We’ll keep an eye on it, but I’m okay for now.” He looked at Richie. “Right?”

“Yeah, you know the drill. Not your first knock out. Won’t be the last.” The doctor got to his feet. “I’m going to leave you what you need to take care of the feet,” he told Elizabeth. “Call me if any of it gets worse.”

“Thanks,” Sonny said as the doctor passed him. “Appreciate the quick service.”

“Appreciate the paycheck.” The doctor left, and Sonny turned back to them. “You should get some rest—”

“You need to tell me what the hell happened,” Jason interrupted. He’d not said anything in the car, not wanting any of the guards involved. He knew if he started talking, he might explode.

This was Sonny’s fault. Every cut, every gash, every bruise, every piece of Elizabeth damaged from tonight was his fault—

And Jason’s.

“We didn’t realize anything was wrong until you called,” Sonny said, chagrined. “I wasn’t supposed to leave for another twenty minutes. Sorel was at the No Name when I left. I contacted Vega—Sorel left just after I did. He must have found out somehow—maybe there’s a rat—”

“Maybe it was fucking obvious you were setting him up,” Jason retorted. “I told you, didn’t I? But you all had your own games you wanted to play. He wanted hostages of his own. You wouldn’t have known anything was wrong until the car didn’t come back for you, and by then it would have been too late. Sorel would have had us to bargain with.”

Sonny shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, dipping his head down. “I know—”

“What happened to Max?”

Elizabeth’s soft voice drew both of their attention and Jason’s breath caught at the reminder of the guard who was supposed to be in the car.

The man Jason hadn’t bothered to check for when they’d gotten into the limo. He’d been so eager to leave, to get Elizabeth away from the restaurant that he hadn’t bothered to verify the driver.

“They found him behind the No Name. He was shot. Not dead,” Sonny added in a rush when Elizabeth’s face paled. “He’s being seen to. I’m sorry—”

“Wait here,” Jason cut in again. He turned to Elizabeth. “You need to rest,” he told her softly, lifting her in his arms. “I’m going to take you upstairs.”

“Mmm…I want to take a hot bath.” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck. “I promise, I won’t get my feet wet. I just—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Once Elizabeth was settled, soaking in the bath she’d asked for, her feet carefully propped up to stay dry, Jason returned downstairs where Sonny was still standing.

“I never wanted her to get hurt,” Sonny said. “You know that, don’t you? Whatever’s wrong between us, you have to know—”

“There was always a possibility tonight would go wrong,” Jason interrupted. “You knew that, and you decided the risk was worth it. Sorel already made it clear he doesn’t care what happens to her. The only reason she didn’t die on New Year’s was a faulty wire.”

“We don’t know that he wanted her dead, Jason—”

“I’m not in the mood to be charitable. He put a live bomb in Elizabeth’s studio and then called her to make sure she knew she was going to die. And tonight, he tried to kidnap her. There’s no more games. No more rituals or traditions. You’re done using me.”

“I didn’t—” His face gray, Sonny swallowed hard. “That’s not what I wanted to do—”

“It’s all you’ve ever done. You call yourself my brother, my friend?” Jason demanded. “I’ve lied, cheated, and stolen for you. I’ve killed for you. And all I ever asked you to do was to respect me. To respect my choices.”

“I—”

“And you don’t.  You used me to get back in good with Vega and everyone else because they’re still pissed you took off and left me in charge.”

“This is my fault, I know it—”

“I don’t give a damn about your martyr act,” Jason snapped. “This is your life, not mine. And I don’t want it anymore. I’m done.”

April 10, 2022

This entry is part 30 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 71 minutes. Needed to get the last scene just right.


Limo

The drive to the No Name Restaurant was thick with tension and irritation as Sonny insisted on going over the night a second time. And then a third. Elizabeth could understand that he was nervous, that he knew a lot was riding on this night, and if anything went wrong, Jason might never forgive him.

But she also knew that Jason didn’t see it that way, and that every time Sonny reviewed the rules and procedures, it felt like he was telling Jason how to do his job—the same job that Sonny had forced on him two years earlier when he’d jilted Brenda.

And there was nothing she could really do to the bridge the gap. If she even pointed out Sonny’s nerves to Jason, he’d take it as a sign that even Sonny didn’t believe in the plan, and worse—he might see it as taking Sonny’s side.

She’d never do that to him.

The limo rolled to a slow stop, and then the door opened. Sonny slid out, but Elizabeth stopped Jason from following. “Can we have a minute?” she asked him. She looked at Sonny. “Just one.”

“I’ll meet you inside.” Sonny closed the door, and Jason frowned at Elizabeth.

“What’s wrong? I can tell him to turn around—we can stop this—”

“No, we can’t.” She laid her hands on his cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. “But once we get out of the car, we have to turn into people that neither of us want to be.”

He exhaled slowly, tucking a tendril of her hair behind her ear. “I hate this.”

“I know. But it’s too late to turn back. I can do this, Jason. You don’t have to worry about me. I know how to make small talk and not say anything. I’ve done it my whole life. You know how to do this. You ran this business, remember? I’m the wild card—”

“You’re not—”

“I am,” she insisted. “I can hold my own, but it’s what you’re worried about. I’m asking you trust me. I can do this.”

“It’s not about trust,” he murmured, kissing her again, lingering. “You’re fearless, and it scares the hell out of me.”

“I can live with that,” she breathed. “Let’s get this over with.”

 No Name Restaurant: Private Room

Elizabeth had been right, of course. She’d immediately charmed Daniel Vega’s wife, the unspoken leader of the wives by saying something about her jewelry and dress. And before Jason knew it, Carlotta Vega had linked arms with her and taken her to a table, beaming like a grandmother showing off her granddaughter.

“She’s quite a charmer, your Elizabeth.”

Jason turned to Daniel who offered him a glass of wine. He hated wine, but he could live with it. “Yeah,” she said shortly, and the older man laughed, clapping him on the back.

“I know you hate every minute of this. You always looked like a fish out of water when you took those meetings.” Daniel sipped his wine. “But you do the job and you give enough respect that we can live with it. You know what I always liked about you?”

Jason didn’t care, but — “What?”

“You’re not in it for the power. I am,” Daniel added. “Which means I value partners like you. You have my promise that no harm will come to your wife. I don’t—” He glanced over at the bar where Sorel was chatting with Sammy Tagliatti. “I don’t like this new generation willing to use the families. I don’t like collateral damage. He made a mistake on New Year’s,” Daniel murmured. “I wonder if he fully realizes it yet.”

Jason sipped the wine which didn’t suck. “He’ll find out,” he said flatly.

“He thought to hurt you. To break you. He’s done the opposite. A threat to my Carlotta—” Daniel’s dark eyes flashed, icing over. “I will put the grief aside until I’ve scorched the earth. We’re not so different, you and I.”

No, Jason supposed they weren’t. There was a reason Sonny was still struggling for the respect and power within the Five Families. Daniel Vega had been the unquestioned power for more than a decade because he didn’t respond to emotions. He’d let Sonny take over for Frank Smith, just as he’d allowed Jason to take over when Sonny became a liability. He hadn’t been behind the threat to Brenda that caused Sonny to run — but Jason had always suspected Vega hadn’t minded.

Jason craned his neck to check on Elizabeth, who was wiggling her fingers so that one of the younger women could admire her ring. That same woman touched the long rope of jewels around her neck with a smirk, as if Elizabeth wasn’t valuable enough to him to drape in gems. Carly had been like that, he thought. He hadn’t cared what she bought with his money, but—

“It’s time for dinner,” Sonny said, touching Jason’s elbow. “She’s doing great.”

He’d been thinking the same, but Jason didn’t need Sonny’s approval. “I know—”

“I’m just—you don’t have to worry. This was the hardest part of the night—”

“I’ve got it,” Jason snapped, striding forward to greet Elizabeth as Carlotta Vega led the women from the private reception room into a private dining room.

“I think I like her,” Elizabeth murmured, sliding her arm into Jason’s. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

“No.” Jason pulled out a chair at the head table, hating that they were about to be put on display for everyone to gawk at the rest of the night. Dinner, some dancing, and then they could leave. He could handle that. “She was always nice to me. Lily liked her.”

“Lily?” Elizabeth asked, blinking in surprise. “Sonny’s first wife?”

“He was married to her when I met him.” Jason’s lips curved into a slight, sad smile at the memory. “She taught me to dance.” And then she’d been gone, stolen in an explosion of heat and flames. Nothing had really been the same since, he thought. But he’d liked her. She’d sweet and kind to him.

“Well, then I’m grateful to her. I know from experience you’re not bad at that,” Elizabeth teased and his smile spread a bit more. She grinned, then reached for the glass of wine that had been set in front of her, a stark reminder that these people did not care for rules or regulations.

Dinner went smoothly, and Elizabeth could feel some of the tension sliding from Jason as the evening continued. Then he scowled when Sorel got to his feet to give a long, rambling speech about love and promises that no one listened to. Then he clinked a fork against his wine glass, an action joined in by others in the room.

Jason fought the urge to grimace because it wouldn’t reflect on Elizabeth, when his chief complaint was that he didn’t want to be on display like an animal at the zoo. He turned to her. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” She leaned in, with that smirk on her lips that made him wish they were anywhere else. “I like kissing you, and the way some of those women have been staring at you tonight—I want them to go home miserable.”

He laughed, a sound that definitely caught those who could hear it off guard because no one had thought him capable of humor. He leaned in and kissed, curving his hand around her neck, threading his fingers through the tendrils of hair she’d left loose. “Is that enough?” he murmured against her mouth.

“Mmm—maybe—” But Elizabeth drew back, catching the eye of one of the women in particular, a girlfriend who’d come with one of the younger men. She wore a sour scowl, and Elizabeth felt pretty good about it. They might have married for reasons that weren’t about forever, but Jason was happy to go home with her and no one else. That would be enough for now.

Dinner was cleared away, and all that was left was dancing. A group of musicians came into play some boring music that was slow and mind numbing. But it gave him an excuse to keep Elizabeth close and look around the room to see how it was being taken in.

“Almost over,” she murmured, and he looked down at her. “Hasn’t been so bad, has it?”

“Well, I like you,” he said, echoing her words earlier, and she laughed. “But I could do without the rest of it. Unless—I mean, I know you like stuff like this—”

“This?” She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, it’s not terrible. But it’s not our friends or family. Maybe if our grandmothers were here. If Emily or even Alexis—” She sighed. “I might even settle for my sister.”

She hadn’t had any of that, he remembered. Just a quick wedding ceremony that had been interrupted by Carly and a wedding dress destroyed by the police the next day. He tugged her a bit closer. “I like this part.”

“Me, too.” She laid her head against his chest, the way she had that first night. “You know, the first time we danced, I was trying to pretend you were someone else, but it didn’t work. I wish—” She tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “I wish we were somewhere else.”

He’d do that for her, he decided. He’d find a moment where he could dance with her that wasn’t about anyone else. He’d done that first one for her, and now she was doing this for him, but still wasn’t right. She deserved better. Maybe they both did.

The song drew to a close, and Jason exhaled in a rush of relief. Just one more dance. He’d hand her off to Daniel Vega who wasn’t someone to worry about, and he’d get through dancing with Carlotta, and then he could get Elizabeth away from this place.

Daniel and his wife were approaching with wide smiles. “I hope you’ll allow us to cut in,” he said. “I don’t move as well I as did once,” he told Elizabeth, “but I can hold my own.” He whirled her away, which Jason hated. But it was necessary.

He reluctantly started to dance with Carlotta, feeling stiff and uncomfortable. He hated dancing. “I find myself feeling quite protective of that young woman,” Carlotta told him, and he frowned, focused on her. “When Daniel told me of tonight, I was upset.”

Jason tilted his head. “Why?”

“He knows I dislike these events,” Carlotta muttered. “Why do you think we never hold them? I’ll do what’s necessary to keep the peace, but I won’t be used. Some of these women—they don’t mind. I do.” She focused on him. “And I respect the men who use the women even less.”

Jason’s throat tightened. He was using Elizabeth, but—

“But then I met her and I’ve seen you. And the obvious affection—” Carlotta glanced at her husband and Elizabeth as they circled past. “She’s not like the others. I realized that the moment I saw her. She’ll be an asset to you in the best way.” She squeezed his upper arm. “I hope you see the value you have in her.”

“I do,” Jason promised. “And I’m not the one using her tonight.”

“No. I can see that. I’ll make sure Daniel knows it, too.” She started to say something else, but then Jason saw Sorel out of the corner of his eye, striding across the dance floor. He cut in between Daniel and Elizabeth.

Jason tensed, but Carlotta tightened her hands on him. “That’s what he wants,” she breathed. “Give him nothing. He can do nothing in this room, Jason. And she can handle herself.”

“She shouldn’t have to,” he bit out. “This isn’t her fight—”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, my dear.” Startled at that, Jason swung his eyes back to the older woman. “It became her fight the moment she signed her name to the church register. Don’t diminish her by suggesting less.”

Somehow, Jason managed to complete the dance without pummeling Sorel into the ground for going near Elizabeth. Sonny’s face was tense as he approach the dance floor once the song had ended, and other couples had come out to dance.

Carlotta kept Jason at his side, forcing Sorel to bring Elizabeth to him. “Joseph,” Carlotta said with a lift of her chin. “You’ve broken traditions.”

“I apologize, Mrs. Vega.” Sorel smiled at Elizabeth who managed a polite curve of her lips though her eyes were blank. “I couldn’t resist the chance to give my congratulations to the lovely Mrs. Morgan.”

“I’m sorry to hear you are so very impulsive.” Carlotta sniffed, wound her arm through Elizabeth, dislodging her from Sorel’s grasp. “You are such a lovely bride,” she told Elizabeth who beamed. “And I am grateful to have had the opportunity to meet you. I will invite you to tea.”

“That would be great.”

“But now, it’s time for the newlyweds to enjoy their privacy.” Carlotta tucked Elizabeth’s hands into Jason. “Joseph, you will take me to peruse the dessert table.”

Sorel scowled, but did as Carlotta directed. And just like that, the woman had dissolved the tension and averted crisis.

“I like her,” Elizabeth told Jason. “I knew she was amazing. I wanna be just like her.”

Jason kissed her fingertips. “You already are,” he told her, and her smile broadened. He turned to Sonny. “We’re leaving.”

“I already have the car pulled up. It went well—”

“We’re leaving,” Jason repeated. He nodded to Sonny, then walked away.

Limo

Jason didn’t bother to wait for Max to get out of the front seat to open the door. He opened it and as soon as Elizabeth was inside, he followed.

“It’s over,” Elizabeth said, leaning her head back against the seat. The car started to move, picking up speech as it left the quiet street where the No Name was located.

Jason wouldn’t feel that same rush of relief until he got the word from Sonny that Sorel was gone, but he wouldn’t begrudge her. “You’re better at this than I am,” he admitted with a bit of surprise.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and met his. “I’ve had a lot more practice pretending,” she murmured. She reached for his hand. “You hate that part of it, I know. But I think I’m going to be good at it.”

“Carlotta Vega invited you for tea,” Jason told her. “There are guys in there whose wives have been around for years who haven’t gotten that invite.” He shook his head, a bit in shock. Even Lily had to work longer for Carlotta Vega’s approval.

“That’s probably the first time I’ve charmed someone on sight,” Elizabeth said dryly. She sat up. “Usually, I’m an acquired taste.”

“Well, most people are idiots—” Jason stopped, his heart beginning to pound as he saw the privacy screen lowered. Not all the way down, but cracked.

Max would never do that. And it had been firmly up when they’d gotten in the car. He’d checked.

Jason took Elizabeth’s hand and drew her close, pulling her in for a lingering kiss, angling himself so that his back was to the window. He broke the kiss but stayed close enough for their lips to brush. “Can you do something for me?” he asked, carefully to keep his voice nearly inaudible.

“What’s wrong?” she breathed, following his lead to pitch her voice low. “I can tell—”

“The window. Press the button and roll it down,” he murmured, then slowly kissed her again. “The driver is listening,” he breathed against her mouth. He could feel the pulse in her neck pick up. “I need to know where we are.”

He felt her hands slide up and down his back, slowly stroking, and then one moved away. He heard the light whirring of the window. “What do you see? Can you—”

“Buildings.” She swallowed hard and her startled eyes flew to him. “They shouldn’t be there.” She kissed him again, drawing her legs up, knowing her dress would slide higher on her thigh. If someone was listening, they might be watching, too, Jason realized, even though he hated that she was trying to use her body to distract them.

She was right. They should be on the highway back into downtown Port Charles, but there was a long stretch of woods between the No Name and the ramp back into town. There shouldn’t be buildings for another ten minutes. Which meant whoever was driving wasn’t taking them home.

He cupped her face, sliding his thumb over her lips. “We need to run,” he murmured. Then he kissed her again. “We’re in a different part of the city—”

“Traffic light or stop sign,” she breathed. She draped her legs over his lap. “Heels. Take them off.”

Christ. She was right. She was wearing shoes she couldn’t possible run in, but then she’d be stockinged feet—if she tripped and fell in the shoes, she might hurt an ankle. He reached for  the straps and let the shoes drop to the floor of the car.

“I’m going to make this okay,” he told her with one more hard kiss. “You’re going to be okay.”

She kissed him back, feeling the car slowing down. “We’re going to be okay,” Elizabeth said.

Then the car stopped. Jason shoved the car door open, flew out, Elizabeth’s hand in his, and ran.

April 3, 2022

This entry is part 29 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 55 minutes.


Friday, January 14, 2000

Kelly’s: Diner

Bobbie had kept quiet for days, arguing with herself about things that were not her business. It wasn’t her place to blow up lives with truths that no one asked for, was it?

But if she didn’t say anything now, would she really be able to hold on for months? Years? Forever?

If there was one thing Bobbie had learned living in Port Charles, it was that the truth always came out. All that mattered was where you stood when the pieces fell. Where did Bobbie want to be?

With that in mind, as soon as Carly walked into the diner late that morning, Bobbie pulled her into the kitchen, into a back pantry and closed the door.

“Oh, I guess we’re talking to me now,” her daughter grumbled as Bobbie pulled her. “What’s your problem now?”

“My problem,” Bobbie said, her teeth clenched and her voice pitched low, “is that Monica asked if I was happy about another grandchild.”

Carly stared at her for a beat, then offered a careless shrug. “I hadn’t had a chance to tell you, and I didn’t know if you’d even care. You were pretty mad at me—”

“I still am.” Bobbie planted her fisted hands on her hips. “You might be pregnant but we both know that AJ Quartermaine isn’t the father.”

Carly lifted her chin. “Says you—”

“Says anyone with a brain. I don’t know what the hell game AJ’s playing now, but I don’t care. I want to know what you’re doing—”

“I don’t see the problem—”

“A few weeks ago, you’d have jumped to tell Jason about this baby. Jason can’t be with Michael, but a baby that’s his?” And it sickened Bobbie that she was doing this. If Carly did blow up everyone with the truth, Elizabeth would be one of those casualties. It would crush her — just as it had crushed poor Robin.

But Bobbie couldn’t stay quiet. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“Because I don’t want to.” Carly folded her arms. “And it would mess things up for Michael. AJ is a lot of things, but he’s a half-decent father, and my children are better off as Quartermaines. Jason doesn’t want me. He made that clear. So I’m going to leave him and his pasty angel alone. You should be happy—”

“I would be if I thought for one second you weren’t up to something—”

“You’ll never trust me, will you?”

“Do you blame me?” Bobbie scoffed. “You nearly had me taken in for aiding and abetting a fugitive. You don’t care about me, Carly. Not really. Not when I might be in the way of something you want.”

“What a terrible thing to say—”

“It’s still true. What’s going to happen when Jason finds out about this baby? Do you think for one second he’s not going to demand a paternity test and visitation?”

“Jason is going to leave this alone,” Carly said flatly. “Because we’re all better off. He’s going his way, and I’m going mine. I tried to get him to love me. To take me away from this, but he said no—”

“He would have if you’d told him about the baby—”

“I deserve more than that,” Carly hissed. “I deserve someone who loves me. AJ doesn’t but at least he’s got something to show for it. Jason didn’t want me, so he gets nothing. And if you want Michael to have any happiness, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

Carly yanked open the door and stormed out, Bobbie staring after her, troubled.  Jason would find out Carly was pregnant at some point, but would he think to ask for the test? Or would he also, maybe, tell himself it was better off this way?

She just didn’t know.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth tossed aside her sketchbook and padded over to the desk, her socks silent against the hardwood. She picked up the ringing phone. “Hello?”

“Elizabeth. Thank God you’re home.”

“Hey, Em.” Elizabeth took the cordless with her and returned to the sofa. “Are you okay?” She heard boots on the steps and looked up to find Jason turning the corner around the landing.

“Mom didn’t call me right away, I think she wanted to think the whole thing was a terrible joke or a nightmare. I don’t know. But now that bitch is in my family forever and there’s no way to make it stop—”

“Em—” Elizabeth frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Is she okay?” Jason asked. He sat next to her, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Carly,” Emily spat. “She’s pregnant. There’s no way we’re getting rid of her now.”

“What?” Elizabeth repeated, dumbfounded. “Are you sure? Are they sure?”

“AJ seems to be, but he’s a moron,” Emily huffed. “I don’t know, but it seems to be. I’m going to have to see her at every holiday for the rest of my life, aren’t I? Can I come to your place instead?”

Elizabeth just shook her head, met Jason’s eyes. “Emily, I have to call you back—”

“But you agree. This is terrible news, right? This is apocalyptic—”

“It’s not good news, that’s for sure. I’ll call you later.” Elizabeth tossed the cordless aside. “Jason, Carly’s pregnant.”

His eyes widened and he drew back. “What?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Pregnant?”

“Pregnant.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “The Quartermaines apparently know, and I guess they’re accepting AJ as the baby’s father, but—”

“It’s not mine,” Jason said in a rush. “I told you—”

“No, I know.” She reached for his hand, smiled to reassure him. “You told me you haven’t been together in years, and I believe you. And I’m sure there’s a chance AJ is the father, but—”

“There’s also a chance Sonny is,” Jason murmured. He looked away, troubled. “Carly could be faking it.”

“She could be. It’s a risky trick to pull,” Elizabeth pointed out. “With a family that basically runs the hospital. AJ could insist on a blood test run by Alan or Monica, and she’d have no choice.” She wrinkled her nose. “And AJ certainly knows she can hide test results if he’s not on top of it. That’s what happened with Michael.”

“Yeah.” Jason rubbed the side of his face. “If AJ finds out about Sonny, he’ll file for divorce. He made her sign a prenup — infidelity means she surrenders full custody of Michael, and any other divorce cause was automatic joint custody.”

“Ah.” Elizabeth nodded. “I wondered—” She paused when he looked at her. “She married him to stop him from going for full custody in the first place, but I wondered why they were still married. Since…” Since it was clear that Jason and Carly were involved emotionally—why hadn’t it tipped over physically?

“She made her choice. I told her that months ago,” Jason said, uncomfortably. “I mean, maybe I thought—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Things are what they are, and I’m glad.” He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it when she smiled weakly at him. “I mean it. I’m glad to be done with her.”

“I know.” Though he’d never have looked at her if Carly hadn’t slept with Sonny, Elizabeth knew. Better not to dwell on that. “Are you worried about Michael?”

“Yeah. Carly’s…she’s not a good person,” Jason said, “but I don’t—”

“You don’t think she should lose her son,” Elizabeth finished, and he nodded. “No, I guess not. But she knew what she was signing, Jason.”

“I know—” Jason got to his feet and paced over to the mantel. “It’s not that I want to protect her—”

“You do,” Elizabeth said. He turned, stared at her wordlessly. “You care about her, even after everything she’s done. And you still love Michael. You don’t want them to lose each other.”

“No,” Jason admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck. “But what if it’s not Sonny’s baby? What if it’s AJ’s? Why would I screw everything up for Michael on a maybe?”

There was a point, but Elizabeth couldn’t help but wonder how much of Jason’s reluctance to say anything was about Michael or it was about Carly. Jason had told her he hadn’t really been in love with Carly, but maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe he didn’t want to be in love with her. You couldn’t always help the way you felt.

“It’s none of my business,” Elizabeth said, when Jason remained silent. “I’m not going to say anything, if you’re worried. I don’t owe Sonny any loyalty, and I can understand staying quiet until you know more. Maybe we’re wrong, and Carly does know.” Maybe the timing was wrong. Women knew those kinds of things, didn’t they?

“Maybe,” Jason murmured. He exhaled slowly. “I can’t say anything right now anyway. With the reception tonight, I want Sonny focused on that. I don’t want anything to go wrong.” He grimaced. “I have to get going.  I’m going over to the No Name to check the security.”

Elizabeth glanced at the clock on the mantel behind him and winced. “And I should start getting ready.”

“Now?” Jason reached for her hand, stopping her from getting too far. She turned back to him, a brow raised. “You have three hours—”

“I have to wash and dry my hair. Some of us can’t just slap on some gel and go,” she teased. He rolled his eyes and drew her against him, kissing her long and deep, savoring. No matter what was in the past, she had him right now and that was enough for her.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason tugged at the tie around his neck, grimacing. He hated getting dressed up. He hated suits. He might be able to put up with it if he was at least interested in where he was going. He’d worn a suit the day of the wedding and had barely noticed how uncomfortable it was.

He’d rather toss on a pair of jeans, a jacket, and be on the cliff roads with Elizabeth, feeling the wind rush past—

Instead, they were getting ready for a party neither one of them asked for and couldn’t avoid. He didn’t want Elizabeth anywhere near his job, but now she’d be walking into the viper’s nest.

There was a light knock on the door, then Sonny came in, dressed in a suit of his own. “Uh, hey. I thought we could go over the game plan one more time—”

“I know what we’re doing,” Jason snapped, but he closed his mouth when he heard the click of heels on the steps above them. He didn’t want Elizabeth worried that the tension between he and Sonny tonight had anything to do with Emily’s phone call earlier that day. He knew she had her doubts about his past with Carly, and he wasn’t going to do anything that would make it worse.

He’d keep his damn mouth shut until he knew more. He wanted to get out of this reception unscathed, which meant keeping everyone focused. Sonny played games with Jason’s life all the damn time—why couldn’t Jason do it for a few days?

“Sorry, I’m late.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose as she came down the steps, wearing a soft purple dress that looked like it floated around her, held up by thin straps. She draped a darker purple shawl around her shoulders and smiled at them both. “I hope I didn’t hold anyone up.”

“No, no.” Sonny smiled at her. “You look beautiful, doesn’t she?” He elbowed Jason who glared at him. He could compliment his own wife, and Elizabeth always looked beautiful—

“Yeah.” Jason cleared his throat when Elizabeth looked at him, her brows drawn together with worry. “You look great.”

“So do you.” Elizabeth’s smile had dimmed slightly but she stepped forward and adjusted his tie, loosening it slightly. “You hate ties.”

“I know, but—” He sighed, kissed the tips of her fingers, hating that she’d picked up the tension anyway and absorbed it. “They’re pretty formal at these things.”

“Still.” She adjusted the lapels of his suit jacket, then turned to Sonny. “So what’s the plan?” she asked him. “I’m sure you want to go over it one more time.”

Sonny shot Jason a told you so glance, and Jason suddenly had the urge to growl. “I’m glad you asked.” He cleared his throat. “We’ll go over together in the limo. Max will drive. It’s a show of unity before Jason opened his mouth to protest. “I know you’d rather drive yourself, but you’ll be offered drinks tonight, and it’ll be rude not to accept them.”

“Is it always this exhausting?” Elizabeth wanted to know. She folded her arms. “How do you guys have time to commit crimes when you’re worried about rules and expectations?” she added on a mutter, and Jason smirked. She was back on his side. Not that there were sides, but it was still reassuring.

Sonny made a face. “There’s a protocol. We’ll arrive together,” he began. “There will be cocktails. You’ll have to schmooze with the wives,” he told Elizabeth. “Did Jason—”

“I got the pictures and the bios from Alexis,” Elizabeth said dryly. “Jason had more important things to do than quiz me. I’m ready. I’ll make nice with the women while their husbands give Jason alcohol. Got it.”

Sonny narrowed his eyes, as if unsure she was taking him seriously. “After cocktails,” he said slowly, “we’ll do dinner. There will be toasts. Sorel might be one of them. You can’t punch him,” he reminded Jason, and Elizabeth scowled. When she opened her mouth, Jason tightened his arm around her waist and she said nothing.

“Then a few dances. You’ll dance with each other. Then Elizabeth will dance with Daniel Vega. You’ll dance with his wife,” Sonny told Jason. “After that you’ll be able to leave. I’ll stay another hour or so. The limo will come back for me.”

“If Sorel comes near her, he’s going to leave in a body bag,” Jason said. “Does he know that?”

Sonny wrinkled his nose. “Yes, but remember—that’s the object of the entire night.” He offered Elizabeth an apologetic glance before looking back at Jason. “So whatever crime you think he’s committing, do your best to let it go. We’ll make him pay later.”

There would never be enough payment for the fear Sorel had inflicted on Elizabeth on New Year’s, but Jason nodded. “Fine. Let’s get this over.”