Written in 58 minutes.

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Monday, October 15, 2000

Kelly’s: Stairwell

Elizabeth just wanted to get out, to get away from the conversation, away from the nightmare of her relationship with Lucky — a week ago, she’d been so blissful, so sure that her life was back on track, that she and Lucky were about to start the life that had been destroyed by Helena’s machinations —

She wanted to run down the steps, to fly out the door, and hole up in her grandmother’s house until she could start working with Chloe, but the heft of her suitcase weighed her down so that instead of rushing down the steps, she’d had to slow down enough for Lucky to catch up—

Her body was still moving forward, her feet still intent on completing the mission, but then her shoulder was yanked backwards, twisting her torso to the side, the weight of her suitcase pulling her in the opposite direction—she barely had a chance to process what was happening — only the sight of Lucky’s stricken face, one strap of her tote bag in her hand, the sensation of being weightless, of falling backward—

But then she was caught, a pair of strong arms winding around her middle, stopping her descent — one of her arms were caught around a neck, and she was being lifted in the air again, moving downward again, but this time, controlled. Her heart racing, thudding in her ears, her chest heaving, her throat burning from the rush of breathing, she squeezed her eyes closed, and clung with both arms to the solid force that had plucked her out of the air—

“You’re okay—”

“What the hell—”

“Oh my God—”

“Did he push her—”

The rush of voices came from all sides, at all levels, none of them really breaking through the sound of her own breathing, the swirling of her own thoughts—

“You’re okay—” and this time, she could register those words, the timber of the voice—it was Jason. Where had he come from? What was happening?

“Stay away from her—” she knew that voice, too. Emily?

Elizabeth finally opened her eyes, lifted her head, and realized that Jason was holding her, that they were standing at the bottom of the steps, her fists clutched in the fabric of Jason’s blue t-shirt, his hands at her hips. She locked eyes with him, started by the mixture of fury and worry in the blue reflected back at her. “What—w-hat—” She looked around, blinking, then up the stairs—

Lucky still stood there, a few steps down from where she’d last seen him, still clutching her tote bag by one strap—it had spilled open, makeup and jewelry spread across the steps, her wallet laying two steps below, her sunglasses—

Her suitcase was at the bottom of the steps — it had busted open, the faulty clasp had failed and her clothing was everywhere—jeans and shirts and—

Her face flaming, her cheeks on fire, Elizabeth shoved Jason back and frantically knelt, clutching at every bra or pair of panties she could spy, and Emily appeared at her side, helping until her clothing had been stowed away—

When the suitcase was closed, she laid her palms on top, her hands were still shaking—she turned to look at Lucky.

He still hadn’t moved, his face still pale beneath his blond hair. “I—I’m sorry—” He swallowed hard as Jason climbed a few steps. Lucky said nothing more when Jason grabbed the tote from his hand and started shoving Elizabeth’s things back inside.

“I—I can—” Elizabeth got to her feet, then took in the rest of the scene — everyone who had abandoned their tables and were listening, watching — watching her life on display — even Tammy who stood just behind the counter, her lips curved into half a smirk.

She’d meant to stop Jason, to take on the task of gathering her things, but she was frozen, still kneeling on the floor, her hands on her suitcase. Everyone was watching her. Laughing at her. Judging her.

“Take this—” Jason handed the tote to Emily who looped it over her own shoulder, gripping it tightly, still glaring at Lucky. Then he lowered himself down, squatting next to Elizabeth, still frozen, gripping her suitcase. “I’ll take that out to the car,” he told her gently. “It looks broken.”

“I—” She looked at him, then back at the dull brown case. It had come with her from Colorado. Her father had given it to her so that she could pack for the Johnsons. The house will still be there, Lizzie. You can get more later if you want. But she’d only ever had this one suitcase, and had fled the state with this, her purse, and a nasty attitude. Selfish, obsessed, brat.

“Come on, Liz.” Emily reached out her hand, and Elizabeth took it, letting her friend pull her up to her feet. Jason picked up the suitcase, holding it flat and horizontal from the bottom. “Are you—did you bring a car or—”

“I—I came on the bus,” Elizabeth managed. Everything was still racing, she couldn’t quite make it slow down, couldn’t find a thread to hold on to.

“Okay, I brought mine. Let’s go.” She threw another look at Lucky, and Elizabeth followed her gaze. Her boyfriend came come down a few more steps.

“Elizabeth, wait—”

“Back off. Right now,” Emily bit off. “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, but you could have killed her. And the only reason you’re still standing right now is there are too many witnesses.” She turned away from him, her oldest friend, with a flick of her hair. “Let’s get out of here, Liz.”

“Okay,” Elizabeth said, but she still didn’t move. Felt glued to the ground—then Emily wrapped her hand around Elizabeth’s bicep, gently tugged and it was enough to get her moving.

Kelly’s: Parking Lot

Emily’s heart was still pounding after she slammed the passenger door closed, and turned to her brother waiting at the trunk, Elizabeth’s broken suitcase in his hands. With Elizabeth in the car, his expression had shifted — only slightly, the anger was still visible, but the worry had vanished.

“You can’t kill him,” Emily said, shoving her key in the lock of the trunk, and throwing it open. “It was an accident. And you know, witnesses.”

Jason set the suitcase inside, carefully — taking a good look at the clasp that had busted when it had hit the ground during the fall, then straightened to look at his sister. “I don’t care—”

“He didn’t push her. He didn’t want her to fall. And I’m saying it to myself as much as I’m saying it to you,” she said when he scowled. “He should have just let her go, shouldn’t have grabbed her. He never—” She paused, swallowed hard. “He used to be so careful with her. I—” The adrenaline had faded, and it was her hands shaking now. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to do this.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth. “He didn’t mean to hurt her—”

“And if we hadn’t been there, she’d have hit the ground the way the suitcase did,” Jason interrupted, and she looked at him. “He was angry and he grabbed her without thinking about her safety. That’s the beginning and the end, Emily.”

“I know. I know.” She exhaled slowly, wrung out her hands. “I need a minute. I did okay in there because I was going on impulse, and now it’s over, and my brain is screaming. I’m just trying to get this out, to stop freaking out in my head, because she doesn’t need me to do that. She needs me to keep it together, like you did, because I know your first instinct was to kill—not literally—never mind.” She scrubbed both hands down her face. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I know he’s your friend, too, Emily. But this is what you were worried about on Saturday, wasn’t it? Being both their friends, not choosing.” Jason closed the trunk. “She needs someone who is her friend right now. If you can’t do that, then you need to take her home, tell Audrey what happened, and let Audrey be the person who puts her first.”

“You could—”

“I’m too angry,” he interrupted, and he looked back towards the diner, his expression darkening when he saw Lucky in the courtyard. “And he looks like he’s going to come over here. That’s the last thing she needs.” He looked back at his sister. “Make a choice, Emily. Make the right one.”

And then he strode away.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Lucky braced himself as Jason approached, fisting his hands at his side, ready to take whatever punch Jason would throw. He’d let him throw the first fist, Lucky told himself. That was fair game. But—

Instead of shoving his head through the brick wall the way Lucky expected, Jason stopped a few feet from him, his expression as cold as stone. The way he looked when he was in front of Taggert or another cop.

Or someone else he hated.

“You’re going to leave her alone. You’re not going to talk to her unless she makes contact first,” Jason said, and Lucky bristled.

He’d screwed up, but Jason had no right to order him around like that — “Who the hell do you think you are—”

But then Jason took a step forward and Lucky scrambled back, his heart racing. When Jason just stopped, lifted a brow, Lucky’s face flushed, and heat flooded his veins. Shame was everywhere. “Fuck off. You don’t own her and you can’t touch me—”

“If you go near her before she wants you to, I’ll know,” Jason said, his voice remaining even, even calm. “And you’ll regret it.”

“You can’t—”

“I can and I will. Emily’s trying to remind herself that you’re her friend, too. And telling herself you didn’t mean for Elizabeth to fall or get hurt—”

“I didn’t—”

“You were angry and you put your hands on her,” Jason said, and Lucky closed his mouth. “A man who does that can’t be trusted. You put your hands on her and she nearly fell down the stairs. There won’t be a next time, Lucky.”

“Why don’t you let Elizabeth decide what she wants?” Lucky bit out, throwing back the words that had started the fight at Jake’s the other night. “Isn’t that your thing? Isn’t that how you—”

“And if she wants to talk to you, she will. Stay away until and if she does. This is the only warning,” Jason told him — then turned his back and walked away. A few minutes later, Lucky heard the roar of engine, and then the motorcycle leaving the parking lot.

Lucky exhaled slowly, then dragged his hands down his face, through his hair. How the hell had this gone so wrong?

Hardy House: Driveway

Emily switched off the engine, and silence engulfed the car. Neither one of them had spoken since they’d left the diner.

Elizabeth didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. “I never thought I’d be that kind of girl,” she said softly.

Emily looked at her, frowned. “What?”

“To freeze. To cower. To run.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she swiped at them angrily. “To let you and Jason pick me up like a baby—”

“Elizabeth—”

“That’s not who I am—” She squeezed her eyes closed, let her head fall against the headrest. “It’s not who I want to be.”

“I want you to give yourself a break. No, really, Liz. Listen to me. You were leaving, you were walking down the stairs, and the next thing you know, you’re flying through the air — you get to absorb that. You had the wind knocked out of you, and then all those people—” Emily gripped the wheel. “I know he didn’t mean to hurt you, but Jason’s right. He grabbed you. When he was angry. And he didn’t just grab, he pulled. He yanked. This time, it was your bag. It could—what’s he grabbing next time? Your arm? Your hair?”

“Lucky wouldn’t—” Elizabeth stopped looked out the window, at her mother’s front yard, at herself being reflected back. “I guess I can’t really say that anymore, can I? Because I don’t know what he’ll do.”

She fisted her hands in her lap, stared hard at her fingers. “I’m taking the job. With Chloe.”

“Good. I was trying to find you and tell you the same thing. You should. This is an amazing opportunity, and you’d kick yourself if you let it get away.”

Elizabeth looked at her, confused. “But you said—”

“I was wrong. I wasn’t—I mean, I wasn’t. Yes, a job that’s demanding with a lot of travel, it’s time away from Lucky. And he’s not wrong to point that out. But I was wrong for acting like that’s the only thing that matters. I was wrong,” Emily told her. “You should absolutely put yourself first. Is—is that why he was so angry today?”

“He—” Elizabeth licked her lips, looked out the window again. “Yesterday. I tried to tell him. I tried to tell him it was something I liked before…before,” she repeated, her voice a little more quiet. “Fashion and clothes—and that I wanted to get that back. He didn’t know. He didn’t know I used to—” She forced herself to continue. “He doesn’t know anything about me before that night, Em. Because it wasn’t worth knowing. I’m better now,” she said softly. She looked at Emily. “That’s what he told me. That I’m a better person now.” The tears spilled down her cheeks. “Before, I didn’t matter. I matter now. Because I was raped. I’m worth knowing. Because I was raped.”

Emily stared at her for a long moment, then pursed her lips, looked out the windshield. “Okay, so I was wrong. I should have let Jason kill him.”

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