Written in 20 minutes. Had to stop because brain couldn’t handle today.
Thursday, February 3, 2000
Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room
Sonny looked from Jason to Elizabeth, then back again as he absorbed what Jason had just told him.
“I don’t know if you’re the only other person it could be,” Jason continued, “but AJ made it clear to me yesterday that it isn’t his baby.”
Sonny turned away, scrubbing his hands down his face. “How long?” he asked quietly. “How long have you known she was pregnant?”
“Sonny—” Elizabeth began but Jason shook his head, released her hand, and stepped forward.
“Since the day of wedding reception. I didn’t say anything at first because Carly said there was a chance—”
“And you believed her?” Sonny bit out, whirling back. “She does nothing but lie—”
“I know. I told her I wanted to a paternity test—”
“Like they can’t be faked—” Sonny’s gaze burned into his. “Was this your idea of revenge? I put your family at risk, you keep mine from me?”
“No, that’s not—”
“Sonny—” Elizabeth tried again, but he wasn’t in any mood to be comforted or talked down.
“You had no right to—” Sonny shook his head. “To hell with this,” he bit out. He stalked past them, slamming the door behind him.
“He was never going to take this well,” Elizabeth murmured, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder.
“He would have if I had told him when I found out,” Jason replied, irritated with himself. And he’d thought of keeping his mouth shut even longer? Was Sonny right? Had there been some thought in the back of his mind that Sonny deserved to be in the dark?
“Should we go after him?” Elizabeth broke into his thoughts, and he frowned, looking down at her. “He’s going to the mansion to confront Carly, but she’s not alone. AJ might be there. Lila definitely is, and maybe Michael—”
“Sonny might be angry, but—” Jason paused. He wasn’t worried about Lila or Michael, he realized. He trusted Sonny enough to moderate himself around his grandmother and a toddler.
But if AJ was there—or Edward or Alan—if any of the Quartermaine men were—Sonny would be arrested before he got two steps into the mansion and that would be a headache none of them could afford.
“You’re right. Let’s go.”
Quartermaine Estate: Terrace
Carly kicked at small pile of snow that had collected beneath one of the railings. She was running out of time to figure out what to do. She’d managed to hold Jason off for a while, but eventually he’d demand that paternity test—
She huffed, her breath exploding in a cloud of white as it dissipated into the freezing air. She should have gotten out of town when she’d had the chance. Jason had been ready to make her and Michael disappear, but no, Carly had to reach a bit higher. Had to go for the gold.
She’d never settled in her life, and until these last few weeks, she’d never had to. She’d set out to destroy her mother’s marriage, and she’d done it. She’d schemed to make sure no one took Michael for her, and until now, she’d managed that. She’d made sure she was a wedge between Jason and Robin—
It should been easy to get the little bitch away from Jason. Robin had almost been pathetically easy to get rid of once Michael was in the picture. Carly had nearly tipped Jason into having an actual affair with her, and if not for that Webber bitch—
She squeezed her eyes shut. If Jason had just left with her, had taken Michael and run, they’d be somewhere and a family. Jason would believe this child was his. It should be his. It wasn’t fair—
There was a thud and some distant voices somewhere in the house. Carly turned away from the gardens, towards the terrace doors, frowning. Who was even here to argue with? AJ had taken the day off to spend with Michael, but nearly everyone else was gone—
Carly pulled the doors open and went towards the entrance connecting the family room to the foyer—stopping when the voices became more clear.
When she recognized them.
“Where the hell is that whore?” Sonny demanded. Carly couldn’t hear AJ’s response, but she didn’t need to.
It was over. Sonny knew. And he was going to tell AJ—if he hadn’t already.
Carly closed the door again and headed back to the terrace. She’d leave through the gardens, get into the garage, take one of the cars—
It was time for Plan C.