June 21, 2024

This entry is part 21 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Emily leaned against the door frame of Elizabeth’s room, watched her carefully apply mascara, then blink to let her eyes adjust. “You know, I’m not even going to ask about it today.”

“Uh huh.” Elizabeth glanced down at her collection of lipstick, considered which color to wear tonight. She looked back at the long mirror fastened to the open closet door, and smoothed down the sides of the hot pink tube tube, and checked it from the back to be sure it hadn’t slid up there either. “I don’t want to match to the shirt, but you know, my regular red doesn’t seem right either.”

“Because I’ve decided,” Emily continued, ignoring her friend, “that Jason coming to breakfast yesterday while you were working, and not even blinking when Juan joined us plus hooking us up with these amazing tickets for the club tonight is a sign that whatever happened that night was a good thing.”

“You know, either one of us could have just asked Luke to tickets tonight.” Elizabeth decided to go with a bubble gum pink. “It’s not like Jason is our only source.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t have to. Jason came to you—”

“Us—”

“Handed the tickets to you because he knew you liked her. My brother has never, in his entire life, heard of Pink.” Emily made a face. “How did Luke even get her?”

“I have stopped asking how Luke knows people, especially after I found out B.B. King opened the club. I mean, seriously — the man saved the world, right?” Elizabeth flicked through her tiny jewelry collection, then decided to go without anything. She looked at her sister. “I probably mentioned what I was listening to once and Jason remembered. It’s not that deep—”

“Okay, but he remembered and now we’re going to this party tonight with one of the hottest artists in the country because my brother knows you like her. Not me. You.” Emily lifted her brows. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what happened the night you talked?”

“I did tell you.” Elizabeth stepped into her black platform wedge sandals. “These things are magical. I go from barely visible to normal height in five seconds. I hope they never go out of style.”

“Can you focus on something other than how you look for five seconds—” Emily furrowed her brow. “Are you dressing up for my brother? Are you sure you’re not dating?”

“I don’t even know if Jason’s going tonight,” Elizabeth said. “He didn’t know either, remember?” She sighed, looked at her best friend. “I told you. We understand each other now, and it’s all okay.”

“No, no—” Emily followed her down the hall and into the living space of the pool house, still littered with a few boxes Elizabeth hadn’t unpacked yet. “No. A week ago, you were all mopey and he barely left the garage. Now I’ve seen him out in the wild, and you’re all fine and even happy. But you’re not dating. This does not add up, Elizabeth Imogene, and we’re going to fight—”

Elizabeth turned to face Emily. “I promise I’m not trying to be coy or whatever, it’s just—I don’t know how to describe it without going into details, and they’re just for us. You know? Like, okay, I’ll tell you it was a very intense conversation and we put pretty much everything out there. I know he stands, and he knows where I’m at, and we’re both mostly okay with it.”

“Mostly? Come on—”

“I think—” Elizabeth paused at the door, fiddling with the latch on her clutch. “Okay, I’m pretty sure we’re both a little sad about it, but I also understand it. I do,” she insisted when her best friend just rolled her eyes. “You can be sad and be at peace with something at the same time, okay?”

“I guess. And Jason did get you those tickets—”

“Us.  He gave us four—”

“Handed them to you,” Emily repeated. “Breakfast was for me, but this was for you. And that gives me a little hope that wherever things are, that you’re right, that they’re better. I just—come on, just tell me one itty bitty thing so I can feel better—”

Elizabeth pulled the door open, looked back at Emily, arched her brow. “Okay. Your brother has great hands.”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “You bitch. That doesn’t make me feel better because ew—”

“Keep pushing, Em, and I’ll tell you where his hands were—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up—I’m going to have nightmares.”

Across town, at Luke’s, where the club was already crowded and the music was already too loud, Jason nursed a beer and wondered where his sanity had gone. A question that Sonny had also asked when he volunteered to go to the club that night instead of sending someone else who, you know, liked people.

“You hate all of this,” Sonny had said with confusion. “Are you sick? Are you dying?”

“Just shut up or I’ll make you go,” Jason said, and that had been the end of it. They’d agreed that someone needed to be there every night in case Moreno tried something. Luke’s was on the border of the territories and was usually the target whenever the idiot wanted to show off.

But Jason had picked this night because he knew Elizabeth and Emily would be there. And he’d given Elizabeth the tickets the morning he’d gone to breakfast with Emily because he was trying to…do something. Be less alone, less isolated, he thought. He’d already been out more in the last week than he had in months. And it was better, he had to admit to himself. It filled the time more, and he’d forgotten that as little as he liked people, he didn’t mind watching them. As long as they left him alone.

He saw Elizabeth first as she edged around someone. She turned and laughed to someone behind her—Emily, he realized a moment later. But it was Elizabeth he was looking at, wearing some stretchy pink thing that wrapped around her and a pair of tight black pants that stopped halfway down her calf. Her hair was arranged in curls that bounced more when she walked, and she was still smiling — a real one. They found their table, and sat down, joined a few minutes later by Nikolas and Juan.

Elizabeth looked around the club, towards the bar, and their eyes met. She grinned at him, waved slightly, but then turned back to the others, and he exhaled slowly. It was a good thing she was out of arm’s reach, he thought, and lifted his beer for another drink.

A few minutes later, the lights dimmed and the crowd got quieter. Lights flashed on the stage and a woman strode out, her short hair dyed a shocking color pink. She reached for the microphone, and music started.

Please don’t come around talking bout that you love me
‘Cause that love sh— just ain’t for me

Towards the end of the night, Elizabeth headed for the restroom, hoping to get back before the last set started. When she exited, tossing out the towel she’d used to dry her hands so she wasn’t looking right in front of her, she walked straight into a broad chest.

“Oof, sorry—” Elizabeth’s hands went up, and she grinned when she saw it was Jason who had automatically put his hands at her hips to steady her. He released her like she was on fire and backed up a step. “Hey. Trying to escape all the noise?”

“It’s not so bad,” Jason said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “But yeah, Luke and I were in the back. I had to leave when he pulled out the cigar.”

“Oh, right? It’s awful. I love him, but he needs to quit. Nasty.” She leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Well, I know this is your idea of hell, but I’m having the best time. Thank you. Really.”

“I mean, I know you could have gotten tickets on your own,” Jason said, a bit hesitantly. “But I didn’t know—this was a private party, and he doesn’t always advertise those. I remember—” He touched the edge of his eyebrow with his index finger. “You said you liked her.”

“Yeah, almost three months ago on the island—” She tipped her head to the side. “And she only had the one song out. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“I told you—” Their eyes met, and her breath caught slightly. “I like to listen to you talk.”

Behind them, back in the main area of the club, the music started, a slower, more sultry beat.

I ain’t looking for a steady thing

“I mean, I know you said, um, said that, but I guess—” She licked her lips, and his eyes dropped to her mouth. “I didn’t realize you, like, actually listened. I thought you just liked the…” Heat rose in her cheeks and she had to look away. “I don’t know.”

I ain’t looking for what love brings

“What did you think I meant?”

‘Cause I’m still young and I ain’t ready, babe

“That you liked the way I sounded, maybe. You know, like you could tune me out. That’s what most people do.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and suddenly understood what he meant about needing to keep distance.

I’m still looking for some better days

“Well, I’m not most people.” He hesitated, his hand raised between them, and then he gently brushed a curl behind her ear. “We should go back out there.”

I don’t wanna give you everything
I just wanna make you feel things

“Yeah, probably. But, um, I’m okay right here,” Elizabeth said. She leaned into the caress of his fingers when he pulled back from touching her hair. “Am I allowed to say that?”

You ain’t gotta give me everything
Just throw it away, hey

“You can say whatever you want.”

“Maybe. But I can’t really do what I want, can I?” she murmured.

Don’t assume ’cause I’m a woman that I’ll fall in love

Don’t expect I’m young and need to be took care of

She regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and he sighed, looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“It’s okay—”

Don’t assume ’cause I’m a woman that I’ll fall in love
Don’t expect I’m young and need to be took care of

“It’s not. I promised you we’d go back to being friends, and I’m—” She dipped her head down. “First chance I have, I’m pushing against that and I don’t want to—”

“I told you it wouldn’t be simple,” he murmured, and she looked back up at him. “Friends. It’s just not the right word, is it?”

You’ve gotta understand my side

I’ve had a crazy, crazy life

“No,” she breathed. “It’s not. But I don’t know if there’s a word for any of this. For you. For how I feel, or what you’ve done for me. I want to be what you need—”

“You don’t have to be anyone but yourself.”

Please believe me
I’ve been down this road and back again

“Okay. Then I want you to be you, too. And maybe this is who we are right now.” She stepped towards him just a little. “You said you wanted me to say whatever I wanted, so I will. But you have to promise me you’ll do the same. A-nd we’ll just go from there.”

“I—I can do that. I think,” he said.

Learned a lesson and it was that love is not your friend (not my friend)
The day I put my trust in you
Will be the day I say, “I do”

“Then, what I want to say is I need to get back out there before they send a search party, but that I like this. Talking to you. Just us.” With trembling fingers, she reached out to touch his chest for a moment. “But it doesn’t mean I expect anything.”

Don’t expect me just to open up
Maybe I’m just a little scared
Please, don’t tell me what you think

“You don’t?”

“Hope and expectations are very different things,” Elizabeth told him, “and I never promised you I wouldn’t hope.” She leaned up, brushed her lips against his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

I wanna hear
Oh baby, save it
I’ve heard it all before
There ain’t nothing you could say, oh, to make me change my ways

And even though it took every ounce of her willpower, she turned away and went back to the club and her friends.

——

Jason waited until the club had nearly emptied out, sure that if anything was going to happen it would be when it was the crowdest and rowdy for maximum effect. But maybe Moreno was going to think twice with such a high profile act. When they reached the end of the performance, and the woman with the pink hair packed her things and disappeared back stage, Jason exhaled his first easy breath of the night. It was starting to clear out.

Elizabeth and the others had left a few minutes ago, and Jason waited until he could be almost sure they were gone. That little meeting with Elizabeth in the hallway had nearly been the end of him, and a couple more encounters like that, and he’d be toast.

He finished his second beer of the night, slid it over the counter to the bartender cleaning up. But maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing, he thought, heading for the door. Elizabeth never did anything he expected, so maybe it would all turn out okay.

Jason exited the club just in time to see Nikolas climbing into his Jaguar—and to see the trio of his sister, Juan, and Elizabeth waiting with the parking attendant. “Oh. You’re still here.”

“Nikolas paid the guy to drive very slow,” Emily said with a roll of her eyes. “He’s very protective of his baby.”

“You’d be protective of that car, too,” Juan argued, stepping up as the next attendant returned with a car Jason didn’t recognize. “You just can’t appreciate a fine luxury car—”

“It drives, Juan, that’s all I have to appreciate.” But she smiled, leaned up to kiss her boyfriend. “Jase, thanks again for the tickets. This was so much fun. And I’m really glad you came.”

“Me, too,” Elizabeth said, looking at him for the first time. She folded her arms, smiled, then looked back at Emily. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Jason frowned, realizing she wasn’t moving towards the car, that only Emily and Juan were. Oh—he made a face. His sister wasn’t going home tonight. And Elizabeth was the last to leave—

“Don’t worry, I’m not taking the bus,” Elizabeth said when he opened his mouth. “Em and I came together, so I’ve got her car.” She nodded to the attendant who had her keys in his hand and headed across the parking lot. “Though the universe does like putting us together, so I’m a little sad I can’t talk you into a ride home on the bike.”

So was he, though there was a bit of relief mixed in with that. He wouldn’t survive another encounter with her right now with his determination intact. But even knowing that, he opened his mouth to suggest leaving Emily’s car here and taking her home anyway because he had zero common sense.

Bright headlights washed over Elizabeth’s face, and she squinted, looking in the direction. “What the—” She put an arm up to shield herself—

It was all happening in slow motion—the crunch of the wheels over the gravel parking lot, the window rolling down, the flash of a barrel of a gun—

And the sound of shots peppering the metallic side of the club as Jason dove forward, shoving Elizabeth to the ground, the hot, familiar pain of a bullet tearing into his skin as they landed.

 


Song is Stop Falling by P!nk

See you July 1!

July 2, 2024

This entry is part 22 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 65 minutes.


June 2000

She hit the ground hard, a heavy weight falling on top of her, the gravel beneath digging into the skin left bare by the hot pink tube top that had seemed like a great idea six hours earlier—

Elizabeth barely had time to cover her head with her hands before the last blast of gunfire exploded, and she heard the spark and sizzle of something electrical shorting out—tires squealed—

“Stay down—” The words were little more than hot air breathed against her neck, and then the weight pressing her down vanished. There were a few screams, some shouts, horns and cars braking on the nearby streets, but Elizabeth didn’t move. He’d told her stay still, and if there was one time to follow directions, it was when the guy who’d been shot at a thousand times told you not to move.

But then she was being lifted, rolled over, Jason’s hands wrapping around her biceps, pulling her to a sitting position, almost like a rag doll. Those hands kept moving, tracing down her sides. “Are you hit? Are you hurt?—”

Elizabeth finally raised her head, met his frantic eyes. “N-No—are you—”

“We have to get out of here.” He hauled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist when she stumbled, one of those platform wedges she loved so much having fallen off. She turned slightly, as if to find it. “What is it?’ he demanded.

“My s-shoe—” She swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she brought them up to rake her hands through her hair. “I c-can’t find my shoe—”

Another night flashed through her head. Being thrown to the ground. Her shoe was lost. The lights whirled around her and Elizabeth lost her breath for a minute, slapped at the hands holding her. “Don’t—” The breath vanished and she couldn’t form any more words. She just moved away, backing up, then falling—the height difference between her feet thanks to the missing shoe throwing her off balance.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jason knelt down, wincing, his expression still tense but his tone softer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—we just—” He raked his hands though his hair. “I have to get you somewhere safe. Okay? Please. They might come back, and you were with me. I don’t know—”

The lights swirled again, and Elizabeth took a deep breath. She sat up, kicked off her remaining platform. “I lost my other shoe somewhere,” she said. “I’m okay. Let’s go.” Jason stood, wincing again, and held out his hand, pulling her to her feet.

“I’ll buy you a dozen pairs, but—”

“No, we can go. I can go. We’re okay.” It wasn’t two years ago. It wasn’t cold beneath her back. She could do this. “Let’s go,” she said.

He’d scared her, Jason realized. Throwing her to the ground, hauling her around like a sack of coffee. He hadn’t meant to do that, and if he’d taken his time, if he’d just thought about it, they might not have wasted precious minutes standing here—

Time he really didn’t have as the fire in his side only burned hotter, blood dripping, clinging to his skin, sliding down. He just had to get her to Sonny. If he could get to Sonny, she’d be safe, and it didn’t matter what happened to him.

Her eyes had cleared of that terrible look, and Jason hurried her over to the bike, handing her the helmet, clenching his teeth when he swung his leg over the side, and he nearly bit his tongue when Elizabeth’s hand slid past the wound.

“Jason—are you okay—”

“I’m fine. We have to go.” He switched on the ignition, and she tightened her hold on him. He roared out of the parking lot, just seconds ahead of the police sirens. The PCPD would come find them eventually, but not until he’d made sure Elizabeth was safe.

——

There was something terribly wrong. Elizabeth knew it even as they raced away from Luke’s, towards the buildings where she knew he and Sonny lived at Harborview Towers, but she thought it was his worry, his obvious fear that whoever had taken those shots would come back.

When they pulled into a spot in the parking garage, Elizabeth drew hands back, unsnapped the helmet, and swung her leg over the side. She set the helmet on the back of the bike, then stared at her left hand, almost not registering the meaning of the red smeared across her skin.

With trembling fingers, she lifted her eyes to Jason slumped over the front of the bike, the black cotton T-shirt having masked the blood until they were in the bright lights of the garage.

“J-ason—” Elizabeth tugged at his shoulder. “Jason, you have to—oh my God—” All while he’d been checking on her, dragging her to safety, he’d been shot—”Jason, open your eyes, please—”

“Sonny.” Jason’s eyes, just a sliver of blue as he forced them open. “He’ll—” And then he slumped again, this time losing his balance, falling over into her, nearly taking the bike with him. Elizabeth gasped, wrapping her arms around his torso, shoving back with all her strength.

“Jason, you have to help me. I have to get you upstairs—” She twisted her head, frantically looking for someone, anyone. Why wasn’t anyone coming to help? Did she call, scream for help? Or would that get him in trouble?

She swallowed her sobs, shoved again, and somehow, someway, she was able to get Jason back into a sitting position, the bike teetering, but staying up. “Oh, God. Jason, you have to help me. Please. I—” She bit her lip. “I’m not safe yet, okay? I don’t know where to go. Where he lives.” She touched his face, her fingers softly combing through the hair just above his ear. “Jason. Please. I need your help.”

Jason stirred again, his eyes opened. “Eliza…”

“Hey. Hey, no, no, don’t close your eyes again—” She stroked his face. “Stay with me. Help me. I don’t know where to go. You can show me, can’t you? Where does Sonny live? I can—” She wound one of his heavy arms over her shoulder. “You got on the bike right? We can—we can get off the same way. Just lean on me.”

“Have to get upstairs—” He took a deep breath, slightly more conscious now, his words still slurred.

Somehow, maybe through a miracle from heaven, she got Jason off the bike, and once on his feet, he seemed to fall into autopilot. Step by step, towards the bank of elevators.

“Fifteenth floor.” Jason grunted, leaning against the concrete wall. He closed his eyes. “Sonny can send someone for me—”

“I got you this far,” Elizabeth muttered, jabbing the button again. “Don’t—” She darted forward, caught his arm over her shoulder again as he started to slump. “We’re almost there, okay? We’ll get upstairs and someone will be able to help.”

The elevator ride was the longest of her life, and Elizabeth couldn’t even begin to think about what she’d say if the car stopped along the way because there was no hiding the mangled mess of blood of Jason’s side, the blood streaked across her hands, his face, and probably hers now, too.

But the doors never opened until the top floor, until they’d reached the fifteenth floor. The car doors opened, and step by painful step, Elizabeth guided Jason out of the car, and into the hallway.

“I’ll go get help—” she started, but she could already hear footsteps, and a man in a dark suit came around, his eyes wide.

“Jason! Holy hell!”

The man raced back to the penthouse, shoved open the door. “Mr. C! Mr. C! Jason’s been shot!”

It wasn’t every day that Sonny found bleeding man on his doorstep, but it happened often enough that he didn’t even blink. He and Max half-carried, half-dragged Jason into the penthouse, Sonny barking at the terrified brunette to follow them. He didn’t think about her again until he’d settled Jason on a bed in the unused maid’s room on the first floor, and told Max to make a call to their doctor while he took stock of Jason’s injuries.

Entry and exit wound, so that accounted for the blood, Sonny thought, using a pair of scissors from the first aid kit to cut away the t-shirt around the wound.

“S-Sonny.”

Sonny grunted, not glancing up from applying pressure against the wound. “A little busy here.”

“Elizabeth.”

“She’s fine. Dragged your sorry ass up from the parking garage—how the hell did you get here from Luke’s?” Sonny demanded.

“Bike.” Jason clenched his jaw, and the pain ripped across his face. “Had to get her here. They—they waited.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone gone. Just me. Just her.” Jason reached forward, gripped Sonny’s shoulder. “Could—they could have waited for her to go, but they didn’t. You—you’ll make sure—”

“I’ll make sure she’s safe. You just focus on not dying on me, you got it? Leave the rest of it to me.”

Finally, their doctor arrived and Sonny was able to think about Elizabeth. He was a little impressed that rather than giving into instinct when Jason had started to pass out and calling 911, she’d brought him up here.

He found her in the kitchen, sitting on a stool at the island, staring her blood-streaked hands. Her curly hair hanging limply around her shoulders, her mascara and eyeliner had run enough to give her slight raccoon eyes, and there some light scratches and cuts along her shoulders.

Sonny took the stool across from her. “Well, this isn’t the way I wanted us to meet.”

He was rewarded when the corner of her mouth tugged upwards. “No, not really in the top five, I guess.”

“Sonny Corinthos. Thanks for getting him upstairs.” He tipped his head. “You didn’t wash your hands yet.”

“Didn’t want to until I knew—” She licked her lips, then finally met his eyes. “Is he okay? I mean, will he be okay?”

“Probably.” Sonny scratched his jaw. “He drove you here? On the bike?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t know he was hurt. He wouldn’t let me ask—I wouldn’t have let him leave that way—I would have refused—” Her eyes filled. “But he kept saying they might come back and he wanted me to be safe.”

“He was right. Until I know what happened, it’s better if you stay here. If that’s what you want.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Sonny went over to the sink. He wet a dishcloth, then brought it to her. “I’m sure this was a lot—”

“Not the worst night I’ve ever had,” she said softly. She wiped the blood from her hands, almost mechanically. “This is what he meant, isn’t it? Tonight. This is why he thinks he has to be alone.”

Surprised, Sonny took the stool next to her. “Maybe. Is that he said?”

“He said my face would change.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “That knowing what he does is one thing, but living with it is another, and this is what he meant. This feeling. Worried he might die. That’s going to happen again, isn’t it?”

Sonny considered very carefully how to answer her question. “It’s not like this every day,” he said finally. “But it’s also not not never. Not everyone wants to sign for it.” He waited for her to look at him. “Jason’s been through that,” he admitted, “with someone he loved very much. She promised she could handle it, and couldn’t. And also, to a lesser extent, with someone else who liked the power and money. I can understand him not wanting to do it again. To watch someone walk away. Or—not wanting you to go through it all.”

Elizabeth nodded, almost absently. “I told him we’d have to trust each other. There are things that terrify me, too. And I-I think I’m there. That I could—but he’s not ready.”

“He might not ever be ready. But it doesn’t really matter if you’re not. Jason’s a good guy who deserves to have someone special in his life. I know he cares about you.”

“The way I feel right now, this would happen again. He’ll go out, and I won’t know until I seem him again if he’s okay.” Elizabeth rose from the stool, went to the sink to rinse her hands. “Living with that uncertainty, it’s…”

“Too much?” Sonny asked.

“I don’t know.” She dried her hands, turned back to him. “Do I have to know that tonight? Is that a fair thing to ask when we don’t even know if this is anything more than just—” Her cheeks pinked up. “More than what it is. Maybe it’s just physical.”

“Do you believe that?”

“No,” she said softly. She looked at her hands again, clean though Sonny thought she might see the blood for the rest of her life. “I think it would be just easier if that’s all it was.”

“Maybe.” Sonny got to his feet. “I’m going to check on the doctor. You should call Emily. Let her know you’re both safe and you’ll call her in the morning.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Sonny was at the door when she called out his name. “Yeah?”

“Did I do the right thing? I mean, what he would have wanted me to do?”

“Jason wanted you to leave him on the floor of the parking garage and get to me so you’d be safe.” Sonny’s smile was slight. “Aren’t we both lucky that’s not the kind of woman you are?” Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away. “When the doctor’s done, if you want to stay with him, you can. I’ll find you some clothes.” He paused. “It was nice to meet you, Elizabeth.”

July 3, 2024

This entry is part 23 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 57 minutes. I had a little trouble getting the first part of the scene together, so writing went a little slower than I wanted.


June 2000

He didn’t recognize the wallpaper. Jason squinted, his bleary gaze trying to make sense of the dark-colored wall in front of him. His bedroom was a bland white, so he wasn’t home. And the ache he felt when he moved his hand, the fire that raced down his side as soon as he tried to shift on the bed stopped any movement of his body. So he turned his head, slowly until his right cheek was resting against the pillow.

Beside him lay Elizabeth, curled up on her side, her curly hair spilling over her shoulders, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other wrapped around her waist. She had a shirt that was too big for her—something gray that slid off one shoulder. Jason squinted. There was a cut on the skin left bare. And a scrape. Was she hurt? Why was she sleeping next to him?

And then it came back in a rush—the parking lot, the headlights, shoving her to the ground, the look in her eye when she was looking for her shoe—and then the rest of it was gone. He didn’t remember anything else.

Jason looked past her, to the door, then exhaled slowly. That he recognized. His old room at Sonny’s, when he’d first moved in. He hadn’t gone upstairs until after Michael was born, and he’d needed to be closer.

He’d made it to the Towers, he thought, remembering now that had been his goal. Get Elizabeth to Sonny. He’d done that. She was safe.

Jason touched his side, hissing when the pain lanced through him again. He tried to sit up, sliding one leg to the side and barely managed to lift his upper body up, hanging on to the edge of the nightstand with a death grip. “Damn it,” he muttered. He just wanted to get to the bathroom or to a mirror to see how bad it was.

He heard rustling behind him, and sighed. He’d wanted to be out of bed before she woke up, hadn’t wanted that picture in his head, of knowing what she looked like when just opening her eyes.

“Jason?” Her voice was sleepy, his name half-yawned, then spoken. Then she said it again, worried. “Jason! What are you doing? You got shot!”

“Yeah, I figured,” he grunted, but she’d already raced around the side of the bed, had a hand on his shoulder.

“You have to lay down. The doctor said you needed to rest. I’ll get Sonny, okay? A-and if you’re in pain—” She released his shoulder, then to look at the night table, picked up some bottles. “There’s something here for that—”

“I don’t like pain medication,” he said.

“But—”

“I don’t want it,” he cut in, and his voice was sharp enough that Elizabeth flinched, set the bottle down. “I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

“I know—”

“How would you know that?” he demanded, then felt like an asshole when she dropped her eyes. “Look, I just—I need to talk to Sonny—”

“He told me you wouldn’t want pain medication when you woke up,” Elizabeth said, and he closed his mouth. “That’s how I know. And that’s why I stayed in here. Because he said the minute you were up, you’d try to get up and you weren’t supposed to. He said you’re a terrible patient who never listens to the doctors, so he thought maybe you’d listen to me.” Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, I guess on that he was wrong. It’s not pain medication. Not that way.” She showed him the bottle. “It’s just something to help with the inflammation.”

“I’m—” Jason grimaced, looked down at the carpet, though that didn’t help because her bare feet were in front of him, and they were painted the same color she’d been wearing the night before, a bright pink that made him think of throwing her to the ground, scaring her. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“You got shot, you’re entitled to be cranky.” But she kept her eyes averted. “I’ll get Sonny. I know you’ll want to talk to him.”

“Elizabeth—” He called after her, but she was already in the hallway. Damn it. He dragged a hand over his face, feeling the stubble beneath his fingers.

When Sonny came in a few minutes later, Jason had hobbled to his feet, using the headboard for balance. The older man just sighed. “So much for hoping a pretty face would make you a a better patient. Sit back down before you tear open those stitches—”

“I just want to see—” But Sonny was in front of him, and Jason had no choice but back up, then to sit down, wincing at the pressure on his side. “I just wanted to see how bad it is—”

“Entry and exit wound. No internal damage, you lucky son of a bitch. If you follow orders, you might be up and moving in a few days, and back to your normal in a few weeks—”

“I don’t have a few weeks—”

“Sure you do. Now take your medicine.” Sonny held out two pills and a glass of water. “Start thinking of ways to apologize to that very nice young woman who dragged your sorry ass from the parking garage up here—”

“What?” Jason demanded, but Sonny just lifted his brows, pressed his lips closed. “Fine,” he muttered. He took the pills, chased them with the water. “What are you talking about? I got her back here—”

“You got as far as the parking garage and practically keeled over. And instead of calling 911 like a normal person might or running away screaming, Elizabeth managed to drag you to the elevators. You don’t remember any of that?”

“No—” Open your eyes. Lean on me. He winced. “A little.”

“And she agreed to stay here while I tried to get to the bottom of whatever the hell happened last night. But maybe I should have put her in a safe house considering she looked miserable when she came down to get me.”

“Do you know what happened?” Jason asked, ignoring the rest of it.

Sonny stroked his jaw. “Yeah. We got the shooter. Don’t get too excited — he’s not one of Moreno’s men so we can’t neatly tie it. He got a contract.”

“A contract—” Jason repeated. “What—”

“Shooter got the contract directly from an old friend of ours. You remember David Reece?”

Jason squinted, then realized how he knew the name. “Messenger for the cartels? The one who told you that there was a hit on you before the wedding?”

“Yeah. Shooter can’t connect us to Moreno, so I can’t say for sure it was him. I don’t know who else it would be,” Sonny said. He ambled over to the window, peered through the blinds. “But a contract makes sense for how it got set up. He picked the contract up yesterday morning, but couldn’t get a clear shot of you until last night.”

“But—”

“You were always around other people, and he had orders to minimize casualties. And to under no circumstances open fire with Emily around. No one wants the kind of heat she’d bring. Shooter waited until she left last night, and after that—” Sonny slid his hands in his pockets. “He didn’t much care about who was next to you. So you were worried Elizabeth was part of it, she wasn’t.”

“She was just standing next to me.” Jason closed his eyes. Just like Nikolas Cassadine that night at Luke’s.

“If she’d gone with Emily, he would have shot you then.”

“Okay. Okay. So Elizabeth is safe. That’s all that mattered.” And after last night and this morning, he figured that had put the period on whatever relationship she thought she wanted. She’d be running in the other direction.

“Well—”

Jason lifted his head, not liking the tone of Sonny’s voice. “What? What’s the rest?”

“Shooter doesn’t know who paid him, so he only talked to David Reece. We caught him on the phone with Reece.” Sonny hesitated. “They know you’re alive — and they know you didn’t go back inside the club like maybe you could have. And the brunette? Her name is in the paper this morning as a person of interest. The PCPD have been calling Audrey Hardy and Emily down at the pool house.”

“Shit.” Jason dropped his head in his hands, wincing at the pain. “So if they didn’t—”

“If there was any chance of thinking she was just a random woman standing next to you, everyone knows now it was Elizabeth Webber, roommate to your little sister. Add that in to the fact that you made sure she was with you when you left the scene—”

“Damn it. Damn it. I should just gone back inside.” Jason gripped the headboard again, pushed himself to his feet. “I should have called you—”

“You’d been shot, Jason. You didn’t know if you’d pass out, if Luke was still inside the club, if they were going to come back. Give yourself a break. All you wanted was to get Elizabeth somewhere you were sure was safe. And you did that.”

“And made it worse—”

“You couldn’t have known that. Look, we can complain about how we got here, or we can deal with the situation as it is. The contract is unfilled, so Reece is just going to hand it out to someone else. You’re in no shape to be seen in public. The PCPD will have a thousand questions if they find out you’ve been shot. And Elizabeth—”

“Will get dragged in, too. Okay. Okay. So I’ll go away. I’ll go down to the island until I can walk—”

“Exactly.” Sonny paused. “Except for the part if you disappear from public, you’ve just David Reece and probably Anthony Moreno all the ammunition they need to pull you back.”

“Elizabeth. She’ll be a target. So will you, but—”

“But I’m already a target. And it’s not like they’ll kill her right away. They’ll hold her hostage, lure you in—”

“Stop talking. I got the point,” Jason bit out. He swayed slightly, his head spinning. “Safe house. You have to keep her safe until I can come back and handle this.”

“Right. I’ll put her with some strange guards she’s never seen before, tell her to pack up her whole life for a few weeks while you recuperate in the Caribbean.” Sonny cleared his throat. “And you’ll be just fine and normal, following doctor’s orders down there, not worried about her at all.”

“No,” Jason bit out, because he knew the only answer to all of this. He’d gone out of his way to keep Elizabeth away from this part of his life, but in a moment of weakness he’d gotten her those stupid tickets so he could make her smile, and maybe make up for how he’d hurt her—and he’d ruined everything. She’d been shot at, thrown around, and had, apparently, been left to deal with him after he’d passed out from the gunshot.

He wouldn’t have to worry about keeping his hands off her on the island. She’d probably insist on a room on the other side of the house, if she agreed to go at all.

“She has to go with me,” he said, and saw Sonny’s shoulders relax. “You should have just said that from the beginning—”

“And miss watching you tie yourself in knots trying to get out of it?” Sonny scoffed. “Not a chance. You needed to realize for yourself this is the best way. I won’t have to worry about you, because you already bit her head off about following’s doctors orders and you feel bad so you’re not doing it again, right?”

Jason clenched his jaw. “She told you that?”

“No, I’m freaking Colombo putting together clues. You’re on your feet, and she was upset. Now, lay back down and I’ll arrange things. And I’ll be the one telling her because you—” Sonny stabbed a finger at him. “—need to practice not making that face when she’s in the room. She saved your life last night, idiot. Don’t make me or her regret that.”

July 4, 2024

This entry is part 24 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 76 minutes. Sorry. The cat kept walking in front of the screen and then I had trouble ending the scene.


June 2000

Elizabeth sat at the dining room table in Sonny Corinthos’ penthouse, watching the rain pelt the windows overlooking downtown Port Charles and contemplated the insanity of her life in the last six months. The boy she thought she’d love forever had broken her heart, and somehow that had led her to the home of Port Charles Public Enemy Number One and in a complicated something with his right hand man.

And last night, she’d been shot at for nothing more than standing next to the wrong person in a parking lot.

Elizabeth scrubbed her hands over her face, trying to rub some common sense back into herself. Or maybe if she tried hard enough, she’d knock herself into reality, and all of this would go away because this really couldn’t be her life could it?

A door closed down the hall, and a few minutes later, Sonny appeared. The older man looked as tired as Elizabeth felt. She’d seen him in passing over the last few years, and had never known him to look anything but put together with designer suits and neatly combed back hair. Today, that same coal-black hair was disheveled, hanging in curls over his forehead, stubble lining his jaw, and he wore what must have seemed like casual lounging clothes to him — a pair of black pants and a slate gray shirt.

“Um, I was wondering if it was safe to go home now,” Elizabeth said after Sonny had headed for a mini bar set against the wall. He poured himself a glass of water. “I’m supposed to work at Kelly’s later today—”

“We should talk about what happens next, and the options on the table.” Sonny came to the table, sat across from her. “You’ve done remarkable all things considered. What are you, eighteen?”

“Nineteen. I’ll be twenty in a few months,” she muttered. She picked at the chipped polish on her thumb. “Why?”

“If you think I’m saying something about your age, I’m not. I know more than most that age is just a number. I was running the streets at fourteen. Working for Joe Scully by fifteen.” He folded his arms on the table, leaned forward. “And Jason? You know he’s only twenty-six.”

“Yeah—”

“Twenty-six,” Sonny murmured. He rubbed a finger across his lips. “You know, I left him everything a few years ago. He was twenty-four. Barely working for me maybe a year and a half. And I just handed him the keys to the empire I’d built.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “I guess I never thought about that. Why would you trust someone so young so fast?”

“I don’t know. Jason’s got a way about him. You know what I mean, don’t you? One second, he’s just this kid I’m helping out, and the next—he’s my best friend and practically the only person I’d trust my life with. Can’t tell you how or why it happened. Only that it did.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s how it was. He was just Emily’s brother. Or the guy who gave Lucky a job and a place to live. But he was always nice to me. Then—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. He listened, even when I didn’t think I needed to talk. And then the next thing I knew—” she trailed off, looked back at her hands. “I’m not some silly little girl with a crush.”

“I never thought you were.”

“Oh.” She lifted her eyes to him. “You said we had to talk about the options. I don’t know what that means. Jason’s going to be okay, isn’t he? And he just wanted me to be safe. I am now—”

“After we’re done here, you and me, I’m gonna send you in to have probably the same conversation with Jason. The thing is, I don’t know if he’s gonna sugarcoat the situation so that you don’t get too scared or maybe he’ll make it sound worse than it really is so you run away screaming, and he doesn’t have to keep pushing you away.”

“I think I know which one he’ll pick,” Elizabeth muttered, and Sonny grinned then, a dimple winking in his cheek.

“Me, too. Our boy is a little too self-sacrificing if you ask me, but we’ll worry about that later. The thing is Jason’s going to be okay, but he’s not there yet. He needs to rest and he needs to stay off the radar. What happened last night—well, the guy didn’t succeed in his goal.”

“Because Jason’s alive.”

“Bullseye. So he’s going to look for an opportunity to finish the job.” Sonny paused. “Now, that part’s easy. Jason’s gonna lay low, recuperate, and I’m gonna figure this out hopefully before he’s well enough to worry about it again. My worry is that if I take Jason off the board, this guy is going to get pissed. And he’s going to do whatever he has to so that he lures Jason out of hiding.”

Elizabeth exhaled on a rush of air. “There are other people. Better people—”

“There’s Emily and Michael and you. That’s it. That’s Jason’s circle at the moment. No one’s going to go all the way to Paris to dig up an ex-girlfriend, though it’s something to consider,” Sonny admitted. “So, fine, we add Robin to that list. Robin’s not here. Emily and Michael? Quartermaines. No one’s touching them. In fact, that’s what happened last night. This guy waited for Emily to leave, and took his shot. He did not care that you were there. But—”

“But Jason took me with him when he left instead of leaving me behind as a random witness,” Elizabeth murmured. “And Emily said the papers printed my name. That she got phone calls.”

“People know who you are. I don’t want you to be someone they can use against Jason, not when I need him to recover. I also just don’t want to see you hurt.”

“So what happens then? What are you asking me to do?” Elizabeth frowned. “I have to work, okay? And I didn’t—I didn’t tell anyone yet except my grandmother and Emily, but I signed a contract this week for an art exhibition the last week of August. I have to paint.”

“I can handle that second part. And I can make some calls. Luke’s a friend of mine, and he and Bobbie co-own Kelly’s with Ruby gone, don’t they?”

“Yes, but—”

“I know this isn’t fair. Especially since you and Jason aren’t exactly on the same page about what you’re doing. I got the idea last night that maybe you were having second thoughts about all of this.”

“Second thoughts? Try fifth and sixth.” Elizabeth sighed, leaned back in the chair. “I don’t know. I don’t know how anyone signs up for this life. To love someone in it, that seems impossible. To actually live it—how do you do it?” she asked, leaning forward. “Am I allowed to ask that? You can tell me to shut up. It’s none of my business—”

“No, but I don’t mind answering. Some people—they go into this world for the money. For the power. Some? They thrive on violence. They like to hurt people. Others?” Sonny sniffed. “They grow up in it, and it’s an inheritance, you get me? It’s an expectation, the way maybe your family thought you’d go into medicine, I’m sure, with all the doctors in your family.” He paused. “I had…a difficult childhood,” he said. “And I wanted to make sure no one could hurt me again. I needed the power to control my world. The rest of it? The money, that’s nice. I don’t care for the violence, but I don’t turn from it either. It doesn’t scare me, particularly. I’ve never known much peace in my life. I don’t think I’d know what to do with it.”

“I should run away screaming,” Elizabeth murmured. “Jason thinks I will, and there’s part of me that wants to stay just to prove him wrong. But that’s not—that’s not fair. To him or to me.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I can’t help but notice that you haven’t run away screaming yet. Something’s holding you back.” Sonny tipped his head. “I asked you to stay last night. But I didn’t force you.”

“Last night, someone shot at me just because I was standing too close to Jason,” Elizabeth said slowly. “When you say it that way, you know, it makes it sound like it’s Jason’s fault. But he didn’t pull the trigger. I told everyone I had a date to this dance.” She looked down at her hands. “I told them that I had a date because I didn’t want them to think Lucky had hurt me by breaking off our plans to  go with my sister. I got dressed up, I let my grandmother take pictures of me, and I went to the movies. Afterwards, instead of going home, I walked through the park.” She met Sonny’s dark eyes. “I should have gone home, but it was too early. I sat on a bench to wait a little bit, to finish my popcorn. I told a lie, and that’s why I was raped.”

“That’s—” Sonny paused, took a deep breath. “You know that’s not why—”

“It’s why I was sitting on that bench in that moment. Because I lied. I know that doesn’t make it my fault. Just like standing too close to Jason doesn’t make it his fault if something happens. But I understand why he thinks it does. Because there’s part of me that won’t ever be able to forgive the silly little girl who told that lie.” She cleared her throat. “When Jason says he thinks one day I’ll change my mind and I’ll look at him like a monster, I think — well, maybe he’s right. Because I keep seeing myself in the mirror and blaming myself for what happened to me.” She let out a rush of breath. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted to talk about. You said there were options. I have to go away, too, right? Until Jason is okay, you think I’ll be safer if I go away.”

“Yeah.” Sonny cleared his throat. “Yeah. And you’d be doing me a favor if you went with Jason to the island. He’s a terrible patient who never follows orders if someone doesn’t make him. I’ll make sure you have everything you need for your art. Just make a list. But yeah, I think that’s best.”

“The island? With Jason?” Elizabeth bit her lip. “And he knows this? He agreed already?”

“He did.” Sonny tipped his head. “Does that surprise you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does. Um, but he agreed, so that must—it must be okay. I just—I don’t—you’re sure me going away doesn’t mean Emily or Michael would be the next up?” Elizabeth asked. “Because I—”

“As certain as I can be, but I’ll be keeping an eye on Emily. Michael’s a kid — it’s harder to use him. But I can put someone on her here.”

“Okay. Okay. If you’re sure this is the best way, and Jason already said okay, then we can do that. I just—I don’t want to do anything that will make this worse.”

“I can’t imagine how that would be possible. I appreciate this, Elizabeth. I’ll be able to work up here and not worry about either of you.”

——

Jason might have promised Sonny he’d lay down, but it wasn’t a promise he was able to keep. He knew Sonny was out there, explaining this horrible situation to Elizabeth, and he had no doubt Sonny was going to make it sound as dire as possible so that she’d agree to go to the island. After the way Jason had acted over the last twelve hours, there was no way she’d want go back there willingly.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and then it pushed open. Elizabeth stepped in, her brow furrowed. “You’re supposed to be laying down.”

“I need to move around—”

“You need—” She closed her mouth, then sighed. “I don’t know why Sonny thinks you’ll listen to me. That’s the whole reason he wants me to go with you, but if you won’t listen to a doctor, why would you listen to me?”

Chagrined, Jason clutched the post at the end of the bed, wrapping his hand around it, and holding the other against his bandaged side. “That’s what he said?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was just trying to make it sound like I’d be useful instead of a terrible burden and someone he has to look after.” Elizabeth folded her arms, the oversized t-shirt sliding off her shoulder again. “It’s my fault,” she muttered. “If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have worried about me, and maybe you wouldn’t have been shot—”

“What?” Jason cut in, bewildered. How had she turned this around to make it her fault? “They were shooting at me—”

“But I was there because I told the parking attendant to leave me for last.” She looked at him, her eyes swimming. “I could have gone first. Nikolas told me to go first, but I said it was fine for him. And I only did it because I was hoping you’d come out to say goodbye to Emily, so I waited like the stupid girl with the silly crush that I told you I wasn’t, except that’s exactly how I acted. I ignored everything you said, and now you and Sonny are both worried about my safety—”

“Okay, we need to back up—” Jason took a step towards her, but she shook her head.

“No, no, I keep going over it, and I listened when Sonny explained it all to me — I waited so we’d be out there alone, a-and then you were so worried about me you didn’t even take care of yourself, and now this guy who wants to hurt might try to use me which is exactly what you said would happen, and I promise I was listening—” She sucked in a sharp, quavering breath. “I promise I take this seriously, I just—”

“Hey.” Jason winced as he took a few more steps towards her. “Hey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who made myself a target, okay? They were shooting at me—”

“And you got hurt when you pushed me down, so if I hadn’t been there—” Tears clung to her lashes when she lifted her gaze to his. “Sonny told me you agreed that I should go with you, but you don’t want that, do you? That’s the last thing you want. I’m not an idiot. That’s why Sonny talked to me. He said you agreed, but that doesn’t mean you want me to go—”

The fact that she was right—that his first instinct had been to reject the plan made Jason feel about two feet tall. He grimaced. “It’s not like that—”

“And now you’re looking at me like I’m insane, and trust me, I feel insane because I was fine out there talking to Sonny, but I came in here, and you’re standing up walking around like an idiot because you just got shot and you won’t take pain medication, you won’t rest—and it’s because you’re trying to get better faster because you don’t want to be alone with me, and that’s my fault. You think I’m going to push you into something you don’t want—” She pressed her fist to her mouth. “Because that’s what I was doing, right? Last night. In the hallway, and then in the parking lot—you said no, and I didn’t listen. Oh, God.” Horrified, her eyes widened. “Oh, God. You said no, and I didn’t care—what kind of person am I?”

Jason winced, reached for her hands to pull them away from her face. “Hey, okay, we need to take a deep breath. Elizabeth—” He took her chin in his hand. “Look at me. Hey.”

She closed her eyes. “Please don’t look at me. Please don’t. I’m making a fool of myself, and it’s going to be so much worse when you’re nice about it—”

“Well, I can’t do anything about that. Can you look at me? Please?”

Her lashes fluttered, and then her eyes were open again, misery in every line of her expression. “You should be resting.”

“I will. You’re right. I should be listening to the doctor. I’m sorry for worrying you.” He winced, because his side really did hurt like a son of a bitch, but he had to do this first. “Okay. First, I did not say no. And you did nothing that made me feel like that you didn’t listen to me the other night Or last night.”

“But—”

“I don’t think you’re trying to push me into anything. I don’t. And last night—” He sighed. “I was just about to offer you a ride on the bike before everything went to hell because I didn’t want you to just go home. So what if you made sure you were the last to leave? That’s not why I was hurt.”

He slid his hands down her shoulders to her arms down to her hands. “But if you’re asking if I think going to the island together is a good idea, no, I don’t. I think it’s going to make this harder for both of us. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s the best way to keep you safe, and to keep me from worrying about you off in some safe house with guards you don’t know.”

“I—” Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for falling apart. It’s not exactly doing much to reassure you that I could do this if you gave me the chance.”

“I don’t want you to worry about that—”

“I can’t help it.” She smiled, though it was a thin one, and it didn’t reach her eyes. “I was so scared last night when I realized you’d been hurt. And, God, I was so mad.” The color returned to her cheeks. “Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t tell me you were hurt, and I was looking for my stupid shoe—”

“I wasn’t thinking about it—” Jason winced when she just narrowed her eyes. “I just knew I didn’t have a lot of time to get you somewhere safe—”

“You matter, too, okay? I don’t want any of this macho crap where you think I’m some damsel in distress you have to rescue—” She poked him in the chest. “So if that’s what you think—”

“I don’t—”

“Because I dragged you off your bike and to the elevators, and I don’t think some flimsy princess could do that—and I did it without shoes—so I think I get extra credit for that.”

“Is there a test I don’t know about?” he asked, confused. “I mean, I’m grateful—”

“All of this is a test. You didn’t set it up,” Elizabeth said, letting her hand fall to her side, “but that doesn’t mean you aren’t grading me. Tell the truth. You thought this would be enough to send me running. Maybe you were hoping it would. Is what you want? Really? For me to go?” Her tone had shifted again. “Because I’ll tell Sonny that I’ll go to the island and stay somewhere else like the resort or something. I don’t want to be somewhere I’m not wanted.”

Jason opened his mouth to respond, then shook his head, and did something truly insane. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her against him, claiming her mouth with his.

July 5, 2024

This entry is part 25 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 57 minutes. It’s shorter than usual because I honestly had zero clue where I was  going with this chapter until I started writing. Hope you like it, and let me know what you wanna see when they get to the island!


Maybe a stronger woman would have found the willpower to push Jason away. After all, he’d been pushing her away for weeks, hadn’t he? And the only reason he’d even kissed her today was to make her stop talking—no, she should definitely push him away and demand he have a conversation like an adult—

But a funny thing happened when Elizabeth raised her hands, intending to press them against his chest, to push him away—her fingers curled into the fabric instead and she gave in, let herself be swept back up in the moment. In how good it felt to be in Jason’s arms, to lose herself in his scent, the warmth, the dizzying weightlessness she’d felt only once before—that night in her studio—

His breath was hot, mingling with hers when he finally pulled back, his fingers still tangled in her hair. Elizabeth slid her hands up to cup his jaw, looked up so that their eyes met—held—and then she kissed him again, not really sure where she found the courage. His hand was warm, sliding across her skin, down her neck to the shoulder left bare by the shirt Sonny had given to her to wear.

Then both his hands were at her hips, sliding beneath the shirt, his fingers warm against her skin. She broke away, gasping for air, clinging to him. He swayed slightly, but held on, his arms around her waist, linked at the small of her back, his thumbs brushing against the bare skin of her spine. She buried her face in his chest, trembling.

“I’m a little confused,” Elizabeth said finally, pulling back to find him looking at her.

“So am I,” he confessed, and she smiled tremulously. There it was — the warmth in his eyes that she’d been missing all morning.

“You should be resting,” she murmured, resting her cheek against his chest again. “Laying down. Not that—” Her cheeks flamed. “I didn’t mean—”

But he laughed, his chest shaking slightly. “I know. And you’re right. I’m a terrible patient. If I’m honest—there’s some pain.”

“Some pain,” she echoed with a roll of her eyes. “How many laps around the bedroom did you do while I was out with Sonny?”

“Not that many,” he said, a little sheepish. He gingerly made his way over to the bed, his face creasing with pain as he sat down, spun slightly to put his legs up, but he sat up against the headboard. “I wanted to wash up.”

“And brush your teeth,” Elizabeth said, running her tongue across her taste. He lifted a brow, and she bit her lip, a little embarrassed. “I, um, could taste the mint.”

“You had coffee,” he said, and her flush only got deeper. He held out a hand. “Come here. I think we need to talk.”

“Another state of the union?” she asked, wrinkling her nose, but she sat on the edge of the bed, drawing one of her legs beneath her. “I’m sorry for…basically falling apart.”

“It’s been an interesting—” He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. “Eight hours? Is that it? It’s only ten?”

“I guess.” She picked at a loose thread in the comforter. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to go to the island if you don’t want me there. I’ve spent my whole life being somewhere I wasn’t wanted—”

“Not wanting you there isn’t the problem.”

“Then what it is?” She lifted her gaze to his again. “Sonny made it sound like the only option—”

“You have all the options you want to have, including going back to your life and forgetting any of this ever happened,” he said quietly. “I can put a guard on you, and we’ll go back to how it was.”

“Pretending I don’t exist?” Elizabeth challenged. “That’s what you want?”

Jason sighed, rubbed a hand down the side of his face. “No. No. It’s not. But it’s an option. I just—” He let his head fall back against the headboard. “Is that how you feel? That I’m testing you, waiting for you to fail?”

“N-No. Not exactly. It’s more like—” She pulled her other leg on the bed, sat cross-legged. “I guess maybe it’s me feeling like I have to prove myself. Like there’s some magical answer to all this and when I find it, you’ll change your mind, and I don’t know…we can stop having this conversation and go on to the next one.” She smiled weakly. “You know, like my parents. Always dangling their approval in front of me, and me deciding whether I want to try to earn it or thumb my nose at it so they can see how much I don’t want it. That’s on me, and I’m sorry. You’ve been pretty clear where you stand, and I’m the one who keeps pushing back.”

“I don’t know about that. I tried to be clear,” he admitted. “But I feel like we left a door open when we talked that night in the studio—”

“More like I wedged my foot in as you were trying to lock it,” Elizabeth cut in, and his quick grin felt like sunshine on her skin. “Then again, you’re the one who picked kissing me as a method to shut me up, so it’s probably not helping.”

“No, it’s not.” Jason studied her for a long moment, long enough that she wanted to squirm and look away. “Let’s try something different. What do you want?”

“What do I want?” Elizabeth repeated, bewildered. “Why? What do you mean?” She drew her brows back. “I want you to follow the doctors order and get better faster. I want you to not have been shot. To have told me. I want—” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t know. I want it to be like it used to be. When we could just talk and there wasn’t all of this in the middle. I don’t know why it has to be so hard. Or awkward.”

“I don’t know either. I don’t like it. It’s the last thing I wanted. All of this—” He paused. “I don’t know.”

“We just complicated something that didn’t need to be complicated,” Elizabeth decided. She scooted up towards the head of the bed and sat next to Jason shoulder to shoulder. “I should have just come straight to the garage the day after the show to tell you I was upset you didn’t show up or tell me you weren’t going. But I let it fester into this whole ball of resentment. And you—” She looked at him, found him looking back at her. “Can I be honest?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s like you pressed fast-forward button on something we hadn’t even talked about. I mean, Jason, we were just flirting, you know? And you were already planning how depressed I’d be about living with your life and trying to protect yourself from breaking up with me, and we hadn’t even gotten to a first date.”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it, drawing his brows together. He looked forward. “I—when you put it like that—”

“And I  started to freak out about the physical side of things when you know, that hasn’t even come up. And I don’t think I’d be a girl to sleep with you on the first date.” She squinted, looked at him. “Well, maybe. You’re pretty hot.”

“I’m sorry?” He looked at her now, startled.

“I mean, I never thought about if I’d have a three date rule. You know, you’d have to buy me three dinners before you got under the clothes.” Elizabeth pursed her lip. “I never needed to develop that philosophy. But maybe I should.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“We were both skipping ahead, and skipping some stuff that might be fun. Like, remember when we were on the bike on the island? After we yelled at each other at those rocks. Going back to the house,” Elizabeth said. “I liked that. And walking on the beach in the moonlight, talking.” Her cheeks heated and she looked away. “And you know, on the terrace.”

He exhaled slowly. “So you’re saying we just throw out all the stuff we talked about last week.”

“No, no, because there’s some stuff in there that’s important. I feel like I just got a little crash into some of the things I might have to deal with, though I’m hoping the shooting and dragging you through a parking garage is, like, once a year tops, you know? Do you get shot more than that?”

“Uh—no, but—”

“And well, the physical stuff is going fine, I think. The first time might have been fluke where my brain just took a vacation, but it happened against today. I think I’m doing okay there. What do you think?”

“I—” Jason looked at her. “Yeah. That’s—that’s all good.”

“Good. But other than that, yeah, I think we throw it out. We’re going back to the island, and you have to get better anyway, so it’s not like you have to worry about me jumping you or anything.”

“That’s—that’s good to know.” His voice sounded slightly strangled. “So—”

“And we just let things happen. You know, live in the moment. Let tomorrow take care of itself. Maybe we’ll hate each other in a few weeks,” she told him, and the corner of his mouth curved up in a half smile.

“You think that’s possible?”

“Sure. I can be pretty annoying, I have it on good authority. Plus, you haven’t even see how much I ignore people when I’m painting. Sonny said he could get me art supplies. I didn’t even tell you! I signed a contract with the Jerome Galleries. I’m going to have an exhibit in August.”

He grinned. “That’s great. It’s exactly what you were hoping for.”

“Right? But it’s also super stressful because now I have to paint and create, and I will totally ignore you for hours at a time. And when I’m not, I talk too much. And you hate that.”

“I don’t—”

“I know, you said like to listen to me talk, but maybe that’s just because you haven’t really gotten to know me yet. So you know, give me two weeks to get on your nerves. And you! You might annoy me.”

“Maybe I’ll annoy you,” he said. “I don’t like to talk. Maybe you’ll get tired of carrying the conversation. And I hate watching TV. I don’t watch movies.”

“See? We don’t even have to worry about what happens in six months. We’re going to burn this out in, like a month tops. Problem solved.” She slid off the bed. “I have to go tell Sonny we’re all set. He’s getting me security so I can go to the pool house and pack.” She looked around and found her clothes folded on the top of the dresser where she’d left the night before. She scooped them up. “You’re going to rest, right? Don’t, like, start doing push-ups or whatever.”

“No, I’m going to rest.”

“Good. This is a good idea. You’re going to be happy we changed the plan.” And going on instinct, she leaned in and kissed him quickly. “I am very good at annoying people. Ask anyone. In a week, you’ll be begging Sonny to send me away—”

“Not going to happen.” He caught her arm, pulled her back to kiss her again, drawing it out. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

“No, you’ll be asleep. Rest. Or you’ll see how annoying I actually can be.”

July 6, 2024

This entry is part 26 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 59 minutes.


Emily sprang up from the sofa as soon as Elizabeth walked through the door, raking her eyes over her roommate. Then narrowed them. “Where are your shoes?”

“Probably somewhere in Luke’s parking lot.” Elizabeth peeled the borrowed socks from her feet, balled them up. “Sonny didn’t have shoes I could wear, so he did the best he could. Oh, and your car is probably still in the parking lot.”

Emily opened her eyes, then went to the window, peered outside. “There’s still an SUV parked outside.” She turned, found that Elizabeth had moved on to the kitchen and had pulled out a can of soda. “Are you, like, in danger?”

“Um—” Elizabeth toyed with the tab on the can, made a face. “Maybe. I’m not sure what I can tell you beyond what I already said on the phone.” She leaned on the counter.

“Liz. Come on. I’m not going to tell anyone, you know that. Even if they torture me. Were you hurt? You’ve got scrapes—”

Elizabeth touched the skin above the pink tube top she’d put back on. She’d forgotten about that. “Oh. No. I mean, sort of. Jason pushed me down when the shooting started, and, there’s gravel.”

“So you were both still there when the shooting happened. The news didn’t seem to know for sure.” Emily perched on a stool on the other side of the counter. “Is my brother okay?”

“Em—”

“Liz.”

“He’s okay,” Elizabeth said finally. “I’ll ask him what I can tell you on that score. But I guess—I mean, I have to tell you something since I’m here to pack some things and then leave for the airport. And I could ask you if maybe you could just not ask questions, but—no, I’m looking at your face. That’s not going to happen, is it?”

“Listen. Listen.” Emily folded her arms. “I accept that part of rooting for you and my brother to be together means that there’s going to be things you know that I don’t. Because I’m me, and Jason told me once I get certain protection. Everyone knows Grandfather could pick up a phone and have a senator on the phone, but I also don’t want you to feel like you have to lie to me. If you tell me you can’t say anything, okay, I’ll have to swallow it. I don’t have to like it, though, do I?”

“No. No, you don’t. Um, I mean, it’s just…” Elizabeth paused. “The thing is, the guy last night—he didn’t get what he wanted. And Sonny’s worried if Jason, like, goes into hiding, they might think—”

“They might think you’re someone who could bring him back out. And you’re much easier to go after than I am.”

“Yeah, Gram’s not getting Senator D’Amato on the phone, I don’t think.”

“Okay, so you’re both going off the radar. I can live with that. Are you going to tell your grandmother anything?”

“Uh, I’m going to tell her I’m going to be super busy working on my art for a couple of weeks and I’ll call her when I can.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “You think I’ll get away with it?”

“Liz, you just got shot at last night. Your grandmother has already called here eight times. No, you’re not getting away with that. She’ll insist you come by and talk to her. Or stop by for diner or something. Let me think about it. We’ll come up with a good cover story. It’s good thing you moved out before this happened.” Emily paused. “Are you and Jason going wherever together?”

“Yes. And before you ask for further information, I will say that that status of the situation has…shifted more to your side of the aisle,” Elizabeth said. Emily  grinned. “Don’t get too excited. I told him that maybe we needed to spend more time together before he started getting all gloomy about our inevitable breakup. Because, hey, I know how to annoy people, so maybe he’ll be happy to see me go in a few weeks.”

“You did not. Oh my god, Liz—you are not annoying.”

“You haven’t dated me—and Jason had a point because maybe he’ll annoy me—”

“Nope. You’re going to fall in love and get married and happy cute babies, and I will be the best aunt ever.” Emily clapped her hands together. “And we’ll be sisters.”

“Wow. Okay, dial it way back!” Elizabeth held up her hands. “All I said is we agreed to spend time together. Maybe there’s nothing there. Maybe I’ll just use him for his body.”

“Oh—” Emily wrinkled her nose. “Ew. Why do you have to do that?”

“Because nothing else shuts you up. Stop planning my wedding and come help me pack. I only have, like, a half hour, maybe forty-five minutes tops before I have to be back at Sonny’s.”

——

“Yeah, just put them over there—” Sonny gestured at Max who came in with a suitcase, placed it by the sofa, then returned to the phone. “Yeah, Frankie, I need you to bury the flight plan, but it’s a one-way to the island. Yeah. As soon as possible. No, no, no return flight yet. I want the plane down there in case we need a quick return.” There was movement out of the corner of his eye, and he grimaced when he saw Jason gingerly making his way down the steps. “Yeah, we’ll arrange for the pilot to get to Miami and he can do what he needs to. Thanks, Frankie.”

He hung up the phone, looked at his partner. “You look like death warmed over. How many times do I gotta tell you to rest?”

“I’m fine—” Jason winced when he took a seat at the table, stretching his feet out and leaning back slightly to take pressure from his side. “There’s things we need to do and talk about before Elizabeth comes back.”

“Not much. I’m handling things. Max packed a bag—and I’m arranging for art supplies to be flown in from Miami. They should be there tomorrow.” Sonny studied the list. “She wrote brand names down. What are the chances she gave me the cheap stuff?” At Jason’s bewildered gaze, Sonny just shrugged. “I’ll just make some calls. Make sure. Look, I told you, you don’t worry about anything about getting better.”

“I know you said you’re sure this guy was working for Moreno, but I was thinking that all you know is he got the contract from David Reece.”

“And David Reece has a connection to Moreno. We know that,” Sonny reminded him. “Moreno set up that meeting three years ago when Reece delivered the message from the cartels.”

Jason squinted. “That’s true, but—”

“I know you’re not exactly Mary Poppins or Pollyanna, but you’ve kept to yourself. The only enemy you’ve made recently other than Moreno is Lucky Spencer, and that little twerp can barely tie his shoes.” Sonny lifted his brows. “Unless you think the kid used his father’s contacts to put a hit out on you and Elizabeth.”

“No, that’s—no.”

“Right? Just saying it out loud made me want to laugh.” Sonny looked back to Jason. “You focus on getting better. I’ll check in daily, let you know the status here. If the contract was on you the person, then whoever this is will get cranky with you gone. Maybe he does something. If it was business and just getting you out of the way, well, we’ll give them that. But you’re not coming back until you’re recovered—”

“How recovered?”

“Until you can stand up without wincing and run a mile,” Sonny said, and Jason scowled. “What good can you do me here unless you’re at least eighty percent? You’ve been shot before. You know it’s no joke to recover from these things—”

“This one wasn’t so serious—”

“And that’s why you didn’t wake up in the hospital. No, go down to the island. Rest. Get some sun.” He paused. “You and Elizabeth okay with all of this? She, uh, said some things that made me think maybe you two have talked about her being around more, and that you’d put a stop to it. I know I pushed this plan on you—”

“If I didn’t want to do it this way, I wouldn’t do it. You’re right. This guy wanted me out of the way. Let’s find out if he meant personally or professionally. Best way to do that is take me off the board. And Elizabeth—she could be a target, so she’ll go with me.” Jason looked away, looked towards the window, and the gray skies beyond. Rain drizzled against the glass, though it was lighter than it’d been earlier. “I tried to stop it. Letting her in. But it was—” he shook his head. “It was too late.”

Sonny came to the table, took a seat. “Look, for what it’s worth, if I get a vote, I like her.” Jason looked at him. “I like that she didn’t start to ask questions or think about the consequences of helping you until she’d done it. You were shot, and she didn’t hesitate. And then once I told her she had to stay until I had some answers, she didn’t blink. Maybe she’s not sure she wants this to be her life forever, but she’s going into it whatever it is with her eyes wide open.”

He hesitated. “I know what happened with Robin wasn’t easy.” Jason’s eyes shuttered and he looked away again. “But she was with you when you started to slide into this life. And Robin had the choice to hold on and take the ride or walk away. And I think, Jason, maybe you don’t want to admit it, but she was holding on just fine until Carly came into the picture.”

Jason exhaled slowly, dragged a hand down his face. “We were together, but it wasn’t the same,” he said. He looked back to Sonny. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it wasn’t all of this. Maybe it was Carly, and the secrets I asked her to keep. But either way—”

“Either way, now you know the best and worst parts about sharing your life with someone. And I don’t blame you for not wanting to go back into it. But like you said, you tried to stop it from happening, but it happened all the same. And now you got a choice to hold on or walk away. And so does Elizabeth. Do yourself a favor. Go down to the island, rest. Spend some time together. Think about what you’d be giving up. And I mean, really giving up.”

He leaned back. “I think about it all the time,” he told Jason. “About walking away from Brenda the way I did, breaking her heart. I thought I knew better, I thought I was saving her life. But she’s dead anyway, and it had nothing to do with me. I forced her out of love with me, and she ended up on a road that took her over the cliff.” His throat tightened. “And now she’s laying dead at the bottom of the lake. I’d give anything to go back to that day here with you, to show up at the church and do it right. I can’t ever fix that, Jase. I don’t get to have that day again.”

Elizabeth sorted through the top drawer of her bras and panties, irritated with herself for not buying anything better. Not that she was planning to show any of it off, she thought, but it would have been nice to have the option.

She dumped the nicest stuff she owned into the bag, then sat next to the bed, watching as Emily sorted through her closet, picking her own choices from Elizabeth’s wardrobe. “Do you remember when we were on the island, and I told you I felt like something was missing with Lucky?”

“Before the bar fight?” Emily asked. She folded a sun dress and set it in the bag. “Yeah. Why?”

“Pretend what I’m about to say isn’t about your brother, okay? Because I really wanna talk about this and I only have like fifteen more minutes before that guard knocks on the door.” Elizabeth curled a leg underneath her body.

“Okay.” Emily flopped down next to her.

“I think maybe I loved Lucky, but I wasn’t really in love with him. You know? Like—I liked him before all this happened, and I loved how sweet and supportive he was. And I thought he was cute. I always did. But I never thought about ripping off his clothes. Even before. When it was just a crush.”

“Well, you were—” Emily bit her lip. “I was gonna say you were still in high school, but I definitely had complicated and embarrassing dreams about Nikolas, and there were definitely some shirt tearing. On both sides.” She squinted. “Why is that important?”

“I don’t know. I guess because I mean, I’ve been worried about that part of whatever relationship Jason and I might have in the future. Like, the physical side. I was scared, maybe, that if I couldn’t do it—that it would be like Lucky. Like he’d start to resent it, and I’d never know it. And I know—I know, he wouldn’t,” she said quickly when Emily opened her mouth, “but I also knew Lucky wouldn’t throw it in my face either, and he did.”

“I hate that you have a point. Are you not scared about that now?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. With Lucky, I just…I don’t know. It never came up. And that seems insane to me.” Elizabeth went over to her jewelry box, picking through her small collection of necklaces and bracelets. “We were together over a year, and we kissed. But I never wanted to do anything else. I just thought that part of me was coming back really slowly.”

Elizabeth looked at Emily. “I would have said I felt that way on Valentine’s Day when I told you I was gonna, you know, make a move. Because I felt like I had to. Like it was time. But I didn’t really have the interest. I thought maybe it would come when I started things. But a month later, I was sitting on a sofa with Jason and he was looking at the cut on my lip, and his thumb just—” She pressed her thumb against her bottom lip. “It was, like, this electric jolt to my entire body, and everything just went on fire. And I thought, oh, this is what it feels like to want.”

She exhaled slowly, looked back at Emily. “I don’t know. I’m just rambling. I just had this weird thought that I wished I had, like, sexier things to wear—not that Jason cares about any of that, but that I’m already thinking about him in that way. None of it makes sense, does it?”

“I—” Emily furrowed her brow. “Okay, no, I’m following you. I think maybe you’re trying to downplay the way you felt about Lucky because it makes it a little easy for you to accept how badly it ended. If you didn’t love him, really love him, he couldn’t have hurt you that way, Liz. But I also think you’re just moving on. Maybe you’re right. Maybe there wasn’t that physical spark with Lucky the way there is now with—” She made a face. “With Jason. But does it really matter?”

“No, I guess not. I’m just…I guess I’m just nervous. We’ll be down there alone this time, and I’m scared.” She looked down at her her hands. “Because my brain turns off when we’re together, but what if comes on again, and I get, like, put back into that moment? Into that night?”

“Then you tell Jason to stop, and he will. Hey.” Emily reached over, squeezed her hand. “It’s okay to be nervous. But remember what you told me. You and Jason are just going to spend time together. Have fun. Walk on the beach. Kiss him on the terrace now that his annoying little sister won’t be there to interrupt.”

“Em—”

“Whatever happens, it happens. But you know yourself better than anyone else. You know what you’re ready for, and what you’re not. Listen to yourself, and trust that you’re spending time with someone who cares about you. Because that’s all that matters.”


heading to the island on july 15. 😛

July 15, 2024

This entry is part 27 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 64 minutes.


June 2000

“Well, it’s about time,” Luke grumbled. He set two shot glasses on the bar, then filled them both before sliding one across to Sonny. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.”

“Sorry, sorry—” Sonny glanced around the dark, garishly decorated bar. “Any damage inside, or—”

“Just the damn light outside. They always go for it,” Luke said mournfully. He tossed back the shot of vodka. “I think they like the sparks. My picket fence is a lost cause—again. Why did I open my place on the territory lines again?”

Sonny lifted the glass to his lips, then paused. “I made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

“Ha,” Luke said sardonically. He poured himself a more substantial tumbler of the whiskey. “What about damage on your side of the aisle? I got a pair of shoes that I think might belong to our Miss Webber. She show up shoeless?”

“Yeah, now you mention it. Hold on to them for now.” Sonny slid the shot glass back, accepted his normal bourbon. “She’s not able to get them.”

“She okay? I figured if she was hurt, I’d know by now—”

“No, no, a couple of scratches from being shoved into the gravel, but Jason took the bullet.” Sonny leaned forward. “He’s good, but I decided to get them both off the grid for a week or two. He’s gonna recuperate on the island, and I figured a pretty face might help him follow orders.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “So they are a thing. When did that happen?”

“Not even sure it has, so whatever you’re thinking, stop. Nothing was going on back then. Your kid running his mouth is the reason I’m here.”

“How do you figure that?” Luke’s drink hit the bar with a dull thud, his eyes snapping.

Sonny supped “Well, my primary suspect is Moreno for the obvious reasons. But he didn’t just put some of his guys on it. He put out a contract. That’s not his usual style, so I gotta think it’s not just business. It’s personal.”

“You think my kid is the only person Jason has pissed off lately?”

“Actually, yeah. Because Moreno’s been pissed off for over a year. Why act now? What changed? Nothing.”

“Nothing except Jason getting cozy with his sister’s roommate. You said it yourself, my idiot kid ran his mouth to anyone who would listen.” Luke scowled. “You think it’s crazy that someone found out Emily and Liz went down to the island? That Jason went with them? Maybe he’s been keeping all of it quiet, but quiet ain’t the same thing as silent now is it?”

“No,” Sonny admitted.

“So maybe Moreno thinks Jason’s got something to lose. I mean, the guy waited for Emily to leave because no one wants that smoke, but you and I both know that it would have been much easier to ambush Jason at the garage. He’s alone there most of the time. Just—” Luke mimed shooting a gun with his thumb and index finger. “He walks out and bam. Job’s done. You said it yourself, Moreno’s been pissed for a year. You’re telling me no one noticed Liz going in and out of that place when my kid wasn’t there?”

“We’re not back to that—”

“I’m not accusing her of anything. I’m not. She’s a good kid, and I want good things for her. Jason made this personal when he went back on a deal, so why are you all surprised Moreno doesn’t just want the territory back? He’s got patience, don’t he? He’s been around for years, and Jason’s never been alone long.”

Sonny nodded. “Okay. Okay. You’re convincing me. I didn’t think Lucky was a good candidate, but it’s a box I had to check off.”

Luke pressed his lips together. “I’m not saying Lucky’s perfect, or that he’s on the side of the angels with all of this. He’s smart enough to know he can’t take Jason face to face. Maybe he’s got some of my bad habits, but he’s also got his mother in him. I don’t see him hiring a contract killer to go after Jason. Do you? I mean, do you really?”

“No. No, I don’t. But I like that idea more than Anthony Moreno sitting back and waiting to pounce until Jason had someone in his life. Because if that’s true, this problem isn’t going anywhere until Moreno’s gone for good.”

“Yeah, well, we both know he ought to have been knocked off a long time ago, but no one wanted to deal with the fall out. The street fight to take his territory. But if he’s the one behind it, Sonny, then you’re out of time.”

By the time the car pulled in front of  the villa, Jason was nearly cross-eyed with fatigue and pain. He waited until the last possible second to get out of the car, only vaguely hearing Elizabeth talk to the guard who had picked them up at the airport and who would be in and out, keeping an eye on things.

“Hey, Raoul is going to help you into the house—”

Jason blinked, tried to focus on her voice, but she was just a hazy vision that barely seemed real. “Okay,” he said, or he thought he said. It was hard to know—he didn’t really feel his moth move, but her blurry figure moved away, replaced by a darker, more hulking on.

“On three, Senor Morgan,” came an accented voice. Jason felt his arm moving, being slung over someone else’s shoulders? Maybe. “One. Two. Three—” With a grunt, Jason felt himself being lifted to his feet, the pain in his side exploding.

By the time Raoul had made up the short set of stairs and down the hallway to the bedrooms, Jason was sweating and ready to set himself on fire. Or drown himself. Wasn’t the ocean closer?

He lay back on the bed, hearing footsteps and voices around him but it was like it was happening somewhere else, to someone else—then there was a cool cloth over his forehead and he let out a groan.

“You have a fever,” Elizabeth said softly, the cool cloth moving down to his neck. “Raoul is going to the resort to get the doctor. You didn’t take the antibiotics?”

“I—” He leaned his face in her direction, grateful when the cloth came back, soaked in more cool water. “I meant to.”

“That’s a no. Maybe doing laps around the bedroom and going up and down the stairs at Sonny’s was a bad idea.”

Jason let his eyes drift close, then floated for a while. He jerked awake at the sharp jagged edge of pain in his side again. “Don’t—” He tried to reach out, to stop the touching, but soft, smaller hands took his.

“It’s okay. Doctor Santiago is just cleaning it up and putting on new bandages. And—” There was a pause, some talking in lower voices he couldn’t follow. “Okay, okay, we have the antibiotics, but you need to rest and you need sleep. I know you hate pain medication, but maybe just one pill?”

“No—no, don’t like—”

“Okay. Okay. We won’t take it—” Her voice disappeared again, and there were some hushed whispers. She returned again. “What about a stronger aspirin or something?”

He jerked his head in a nod. He could do that. He didn’t like the way those other pills tasted, the fog they left his mind in, the way they made his body feel—

“All right. I’ll tell him.”

A few minutes later, she returned and he felt something in his mouth, then cool water at his lips. He drank it, swallowing the pillow, and when he felt her hands again, stroking his forehead, combing through his hair, he relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

——

Elizabeth ran the cold cloth across Jason’s face again, trying to make sure he was as cool as possible, then cleaned up the medical supplies, stowing them on the dresser. She went to the threshold, looked back to make sure he was still sleeping.

Then she went across the hall to one of the rooms that had been empty the last time they’d come here, but she’d wanted to be closer to him in case he needed her. She hadn’t realized he was hurt so badly — he’d seem almost unaffected back in Port Charles, but he’d just done too much. Worried about her until he’d nearly collapsed, woke up and deal with her anxiety spirals—

Elizabeth opened the doors to the terrace, let the cool breeze wash across her face. Until now, he’d been focused on her, but she wasn’t going to let him do that anymore. No, for once, she was going to be the strong one.

——

Jason slept through the rest of that first day and night, and most of the second day, waking only to take some water, some more antibiotics and basic pain relievers, choke down some of the soup she forced on him. He’d probably used the bathroom, too, Elizabeth thought, but he’d never ask for her help with that, so there was no way to know.

At any rate, by the morning of the third day, the infection had started to recede and he was feeling better. Looking better, too, she thought. But he was still confined to the bed, and she worried that he’d never ask for more help now.

So she decided to force him. Sonny’s art supplies had showed up that second day, and on the third morning, after he’d forced down oatmeal, Jason was startled when Elizabeth marched through his doorway, carrying an easel in her hands. She set it up on the terrace just beyond his bed, then went back across the hall. She returned with a canvas and long, flat box that she set on the ground.

“What—”

“You’re well enough that you’re going to start getting ideas about moving around,” Elizabeth said, and he winced because of course he’d likely already planned it. “I’m hoping if I’m in here, you won’t try that. Because if you fall, you’re staying on the ground until I get someone from the resort to help.” She lifted her brows. “Is that what you want?”

“Uh, no, but—”

“So Sonny sent down books down for you. You read or sleep, and I’m going to paint.” She set down a trio of books, then disappeared into her room again. She came back with a t-shirt thrown over the tank she’d been wearing, this one stained with paint.

He picked up the books — Sonny must have just grabbed whatever was on the shelf in the living room. A trio of travel books to Egypt, Germany, and Italy. He picked up Egypt first, began to flip through it.

They sat in relatively comfortable silence for a while, maybe thirty minutes before Jason’s head began to ache, and the words started to swim on the page. He set it aside, but it hit the top of the next book and slid off the bed with a thud.

Elizabeth stopped, setting her brush down in a can of water that had appeared at some point. She came closer, stooped to pick it up. “Did you want me move these so you can sleep or—”

“No. I’m not tired,” he muttered, laying his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes. “The print’s small. It’s making my head hurt.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth looked down at the book, ran her fingers over the picture of the pyramids. Then she sat on the bed, folded her legs, and opened the book. “Where did you leave off?”

“What?”

“I’ll read to you. If nothing else, that’ll put you to sleep. It did my freshman English teacher. Mrs. Grady back in Colorado. I was giving a presentation and she conked right out.” She flipped through some of the pages, stopped on one of the early pages. “The Pyramids of Gizeh are the only wonder of the ancient world still existing. I took an art history class last semester, and you know, it always makes me so sad to think of all the beautiful pieces of art and architecture that are just gone because of wars and humans being stupid.” She flipped through some of pages. “Like, the Colossus of Rhodes, you know? It’s this huge statue that was supposed to straddle the harbor. That was an earthquake there. It was made of bronze, and snapped. People used to travel to see the pieces of it.”

She looked over to see Jason just staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing, I was listening to you. Where—where was the statue?”

“Oh. Greece. I really want to go there—and—” Elizabeth reached for the other travel book. “Italy is definitely on the list of dream vacations. I want to go to Venice. The light’s supposed to be different there. Have you ever been?”

“No. You?”

“Please. New York City is the furthest east I’ve ever been, and I’ve never  been west of the Rockies.” Elizabeth laid back against the pillows. “But it’s on the top 5 places.” She flipped through the Italy book, stopping on a picture of the Grand Canal. “What do you think it’d be to live on the water like this? I saw somewhere that mail gets delivered on boats. That’s just so wild to me. And amazing.” She turned her head on the pillow, and he was still watching her. “Do you want to go back to reading?”

“This is good. I like listening to you.”

“You said that before, but I guess I have to believe you. Why travel books? Or did Sonny just grab the first three he found and didn’t think about it?”

“I like reading about other places. I used to think I’d go there one day. I used to read about the animals in Africa to Michael.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Those were his favorite books. The ones about Africa. He liked the pictures.”

“That’s sweet. I love the picture that paints in my head. What’s your top 5? You know, mine is Greece, Italy, the Alps, oh, and Alaska. And definitely France.”

Jason furrowed his brow, considered. “Egypt. South Africa. Italy. Alaska’s a good one. You’re not worried about being cold?”

“It’d be worth it to see the glaciers and the mountains. Maybe one day. You only named four.”

“Australia,” Jason said. “Or New Zealand.”

“Those are all excellent choices.” She flipped through the book again. “Do you want me to read to you—”

“I don’t want you  to stop painting, even if it’s not going well.”

Elizabeth looked back at him, and he was watching her again. “How can you tell?”

“You’ve been muttering all morning at it. You liked it when you started,” Jason added. “But now you don’t.”

“How—” she sat back up. “What do you mean, muttering? You mean, like, I talk to myself?”

He nodded. “You sing, too. Or you did earlier.”

“I—I sing?” Her cheeks heated and she brought her fisted hand to her mouth. “Oh no. No, please tell me I don’t.”

“You do.”

“Oh, this is—” She bit her lip. “This is awful. Terrible. What—What do I sing?”

“I didn’t recognize the song.” He squinted. “Something with the word sometimes a lot.”

“Oh, God. This is mortifying.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Please tell me you’re lying.”

“I never lie. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious.”

“Oh. I’m not. Just mortified now,” she muttered, pulling her knees up and burying her face in h er knees. “Let’s talk about something else. I’ll read to you, or—”

“I think you should sing to me.”

Her head jerked up and she looked at him, only to find him grinning. “Oh, absolutely not. And for that, you can read to yourself.” She slid off the bed and went back to her painting, sneaking another glance at him. He was still smiling, and she had to smile back, even if she was mortified beyond the speaking of it.

July 17, 2024

This entry is part 28 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 61 minutes.


June 2000

“Four days.” Sonny slapped his hand on the bar. “And nothing. Not one attack on me, on you, on anything—” He clenched his jaw. “What the hell is he waiting for?”

It was late morning, and the interior of Luke’s was abandoned as it usually was this time of day. Since Jason’s exile to the island, Sonny had found himself there more often than not, and today he was out of patience.

“Stupid question, Corinthos.” Luke tapped his cigar against an ashtray. “He’s waiting for Jason to pop up like a rabbit so he can take another shot.” He reached for the newspaper where the shooting last Friday night had been relegated to below the fold and bottom of the page. Nothing new to add or even to speculate. “We’ve known that from the beginning. I’m telling you, you go march into the Oasis, you pop him in the head, and bam! Problem solved!” He bit down on the cigar, then used both hands to open the paper. “Sale at Wyndham’s if you’re in need of a new grill.”

“Oh, you think plotting the assassination of a rival is so easy—” Sonny made a face, then picked up his drink. “You know, you didn’t even kill that one guy. He fell into that stupid machine and froze himself to death, so it’s not like you’re an expert—”

“Yeah, but the rest of world thinks I’m a hero,” Luke said, with a grin. “Catapulted me right into the mayor’s office—”

“Which you promptly resigned the second Laura came home, a blessing to us all. I’m glad I didn’t live under the political reign of Luke Spencer.” Sonny shuddered.

“Right? I must have been drunk when I agreed. All jokes aside.” Luke set both the cigar and newspaper aside, then folded his arms, leaning his elbows against the bar. “We’re going to do it this, right? It’s just a matter of time before Moreno decides to make a bigger stand. You were always going to have to exterminate him. Let’s just get it done and move on.”

“I…” Sonny pressed his lips together. “I am. But the problem with tossing out Moreno, I got that little bitch Sorel right after him—and there’s Mickey Roscoe, too. I cut one down, another one pops right up.” He scratched his chin. “So I gotta think about what comes after and be prepared. Or I set something up that eliminates the entire trio, sending that entire organization into chaos so I can pick up the pieces. Something like that, Luke, can’t be planned overnight.”

“No, I suppose not.” Luke straightened. “And not in the next week or so. What’s the plan for when Jason’s well enough to come back? He goes right back to being a target, along with anyone standing near him. Unless you can figure out how to keep him away.”

“Do you have anything to offer other than obvious statements?”

“Nope.”

“I need new friends.”

“This isn’t real food.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and plucked the plate from Jason’s grasp. “Didn’t stop you from eating it,” she called over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen area. “Dr. Santiago said—”

If he heard that name one more time, Jason was going to put his fist through the wall, he thought, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. He was pretty sure that Elizabeth had taken notes or recorded the resort doctor when he’d come that morning to check his stitches and condition.

The fever was gone, and he wasn’t as tired, so he’d been upgraded from staying in bed all day to lying on the sofa all day, and if he was careful maybe a short walk to the water and back. No spicy foods, nothing that might agitate his digestion with the medication he had to take—

“Maybe for dinner, I’ll ask the resort to send down the nachos you liked the last time we were here.”

Jason opened his eyes to see Elizabeth standing at the foot of the sofa, biting her bottom lip and looking a bit hesitant. “What?”

“Well, the doctor said no spicy foods, but if they make it without the peppers, it could be okay. I could look at the menu again and you know, since you own the place—”

“Own shares,” Jason muttered reflexively.

“—they probably wouldn’t mind some modifications. I know you hated the soup the last few days. And the oatmeal. And the rice wasn’t a hit,” she said, looking towards the kitchen. “It’s just—”

“I’m not mad at you,” he interrupted. He sat up again, wincing slightly. “I’m mad at whoever shot me. I hate sitting around. I hate not doing anything.” He dragged a hand down his face, irritated with himself. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Elizabeth said, shrugging. “Hey, you wanna try the walk the doctor said you could do? It’s better than nothing.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jason braced a hand on the arm of the sofa to push himself to his feet, wincing at the pain in his side. He exhaled slowly when he was finally standing up. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Um, sure.” Elizabeth kicked off the sandals she’d been wearing.

“You don’t have to—you can stay and paint. You probably want a break from me.” He inched towards the terrace doors, determined to make it to the water and back without needing a break.

“You sure you don’t want a break from me?” she asked doubtfully.

He paused at the terrace door, looked back at her with a frown. She stood near the sofa, her arms folded low across her abdomen, and she was looking at the floor. He’d been ridiculous, he thought, complaining like a baby about things neither of them could control. “Yeah. Come on. We could both use a break from the house.” He held out his hand, and she took it.

“Oh, no—” Emily ducked away from the doorway of Kelly’s, turned and gripped Juan’s shirtfront. “You have to hide me—”

Juan looked past her, saw Audrey Hardy beyond the glass doors, then sighed at his girlfriend. “She might not ask you questions.”

“She’s only left three messages for Elizabeth since she left, and I don’t have a good cover story. Quick.” Emily shook him slightly. “Help me come up with one.”

“Have you tried — your granddaughter is a legal adult, and it’s none of your business where she is as long as she’s alive?”

Emily’s eyes rounded in horror. “No! No! Are you insane! If I talked to Audrey Hardy like that, my grandfather would murder me where I stood! Oh, you’re worthless,” she muttered. She collapsed at a table in the courtyard. “Isn’t there something else I could tell her? Anything else?”

“Emily.” Juan sat down. “You could tell her the truth which is that Elizabeth is off on a tropical island with your brother.”

“How do you know that? I didn’t tell you that!”

“I’m not a child, you know. I grew up around this stuff,” Juan reminded her. “Jason gets shot at, Liz is with him. They disappear off the face of the Earth. You told me yourself the island is where Jason goes when he wants to be away from people.” He paused. “You could tell Mrs. Hardy the truth, or you could go with reality which is that it’s none of her business and not your job to play Liz’s keeper.”

Emily folded her arms on the table, then put her head down. “There’s a third option. I’ll expire from anxiety right here in the courtyard, and I won’t have to worry about this at all.”

“Well, it would solve the problem. Creates new ones,” Juan added, “but it would take the current one off the table.”

She raised her head slightly to glare at him. “You’re not helpful.”

“Have you also thought maybe we could just leave and avoid the whole confrontation?” Juan asked.

“Yes! Yes! That’s exactly what we’ll do! See, I knew you’d come up with something.” Emily lunged to her feet, dragged Juan up with her, then squeaked when the door opened, and Audrey stepped out, a brown bag in hand.

“Hello, Emily. I—I’d hoped to see Elizabeth with you.” Audrey lifted her brows. “She never seems to be around when I’m trying to speak to her.”

“Oh, weird. She hasn’t called you back or anything?” Emily asked, hoping that she sounded cool, calm, and collected. And not like a squeaky mess.

“Oh, I heard from her this morning. But just strange how it’s always a call back. Almost as if she’s screening her calls.” Audrey pursed her lips. “And I always seem to just miss her at the pool house or the studio.”

“Wild. Timing is just…strange, right? And Liz is just crazy distracted right now. You heard about the show, I mean. She’s spending all her energy on that. Long hours, but lots of breaks,” Emily said.

Audrey stared at her, then cleared her throat. “And oddly enough, I took my car to your brother’s garage for an oil change. It’s closed.”

“Really? I think maybe he had things to do with the warehouse. You know, the garage is just a hobby, really.” Emily put her arms behind her back. “I can call him. Find out when a good time would be.”

“No matter.” Audrey headed for the parking lot, and just when Emily thought she was in the clear, the older woman turned. “When you speak to Elizabeth next, please remind her that she is an adult who is quite capable of choosing her own friendships, and that there’s need to hide from me. I’m certainly not going to disown her for being, ah, friendly, with your brother.”

“Could be so much worse,” Juan said, and grunted when Emily elbowed him. “What? Getting back together with Lucky would be worse.”

“That’s true, Mr. Santiago. I would characterize that as a much poorer choice. It’s lovely to see you, Emily. You look awfully pink. Make sure you’re using sunscreen.”

And with that, Audrey was gone.

——

Jason made it down to the shoreline, though he was unhappy that he’d broken into a slight sweat to get down there, and needed to sit down instead of starting back up to the house. He hated this — he’d hated it after the accident, when he’d been shot three years earlier—every time he had no choice but to sit down and be still for hours at a time—

It made him want to crawl out of his skin.

He stretched out his legs, close enough to the water so that the waves gently lapped at the bottom of his feet when the waves came in. Elizabeth sat next to him, tucking the ends of her light breezy skirt beneath her. She tilted her face towards the sun, her eyes closed, hair cascading down her back. His fingers itched to touch it, but he kept them at his sides. The last thing he needed was to start something he couldn’t finish.

“I could get used to falling asleep with the sound of the ocean,” she murmured. “Not one of those stupid sound machines, you know? Or the cassettes you can get. But the real sound of the waves.”

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

She opened her eyes, looked at him, tilting her head to the side so that those curls fell across the shoulder left mostly bare by the tank top she wore. “We need to come up with things you can do until the doctor clears you for more. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit still for so long.”

Jason wrinkled his nose, then looked out over the ocean. “It reminds me of the hospital,” he muttered. “After the accident. I couldn’t move anywhere. Couldn’t leave my room. Then it was just to talk to doctors. I can be still,” he added. “I used—” He looked down, drew his fingers through the sand. “I used to stand with Michael in front of the windows for hours, listening to him sleep.”

“Ah, that makes sense. I’m sorry. I know this isn’t my fault, and that it’s not my job to entertain you or whatever, but I’m still sorry you’re so unhappy.”

He lost the battle with himself, reaching out to touch one of the curls brushing against her arm. “I’m not unhappy,” Jason corrected. “Just impatient. Don’t worry about me, okay? I want you to concentrate on your art. On the things you’d be doing if you were back at home.”

“Well, ironically, since I’m a waitress, serving you meals is what I’d be doing back at home,” she teased.

“Oh, yeah?” He arched a brow. “Am I supposed to be tipping you?”

“Oh, for sure, and I’m keeping a ledger, so don’t try to weasel out of it later.” She tapped her temple, and he laughed.

“Fair enough. Maybe I should make a down payment on what I owe you.” He leaned forward, brushed his lips gently against hers, then drew back slightly took find her eyes on his. She smiled hesitantly, and then he kissed her again, softly, lingering. Her fingertips brushed his jaw when he moved back.

“That’s a good start,” she murmured, her lips curving into a deeper smile. “A very good start.”

August 5, 2024

This entry is part 29 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 64 minutes. Got a late start thanks to the cat napping in front of the keyboard.


Late June 2000

By the beginning of their second week on the island, Jason was up and moving around on his own schedule. He woke early and went for walks on the beach while Elizabeth slept in, enjoying her break from not opening Kelly’s at the crack of dawn. By the time she finally shuffled out of her room, Jason would have returned, showered, and made coffee.

This morning, she was still stifling a yawn when she emerged from her room, wearing a long pink wrap over her bikini, the top peeking out from where the wrap dipped down over her shoulder.

She slid onto the stool, accepting the coffee he handed her with a wrinkle of her nose. “Does the sun have to be so bright all the time?” she muttered. “It’s so aggressive.”

“How late were you up?” Jason asked, leaving the kitchen area and heading into the living room proper. He picked up one of his heavier travel books, then did a few reps with it, wincing slightly at the pull on his wound. It had mostly healed, but he’d yet to regain his full strength on his left and he couldn’t sprint for more than a few steps without losing his breath.

“Just until three,” Elizabeth said. She spun on the stool, watched him lift the book a few more times, and he waited for her to make a protest about pushing himself. But she just sipped her coffee. “I hit a groove with the canvas last night, and didn’t want to lose it. I don’t know if it’s good enough for the exhibition, but at least it’s progress.”

“Whatever you finish down here—” Jason set the book down, looked at her. “I’ll make sure it gets back to Port Charles safely. Just tell me what you need to ship it.”

“Did Sonny say something? Do we know when we’re going back?” Elizabeth slid off the stool, went into the kitchen to set her empty cup in the sink.

“No.” And that grated at Jason — he knew why he’d had to recuperate somewhere far away from Port Charles, but someone had tried to kill him—had nearly killed Elizabeth—and he was too far away to do anything about it. Relying on Sonny wasn’t nearly good enough. Maybe if he continued to recover at this rate, he could talk Elizabeth into staying on the island while he went home to finish this.

He watched Elizabeth as she rifled through her tote bag—they always went down to the beach after coffee. She liked to sit out and sketch and he’d do another walk. Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he’d be able to jog the full length of the beach, and then Sonny would have to let him come back.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Elizabeth said, looping the strap over her shoulder. She slid a pair of sunglasses over her eyes.

“I’ll grab the towels,” Jason started to say, but the phone on the counter rang. He scooped it up. “Sonny?”

“Hey, is this a bad time?” his partner asked, the line a bit crackly.

“No, it’s good—” Jason made eye contact with Elizabeth and she nodded. She grabbed the second bag with the beach towels and gestured towards the beach. “It’s good,” he repeated after she’d stepped out on the terrace.

“Elizabeth around?”

“Just went down to the beach. I’m glad you called. Can we set up a flight for Friday?” Jason wanted to know. “I’m ready—or I will be by then—”

“Let’s hold off on that,” Sonny said. “I was actually calling to let you know that Taggert came sniffing again, looking for you. Mentioned making a stop to talk to Audrey who said Liz was on vacation and that’s all she knew. Liz is talking to her grandmother, isn’t she?”

Jason frowned. “Yeah, we said that’d be fine, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just didn’t expect Audrey Hardy not to be throwing a bigger fit over her granddaughter disappearing the night she was shot at. Taggert seemed perturbed at it, too. Wants to know if you’re dead.”

“All the more reason for me to come home on Friday, but it it’s not safe yet, maybe Elizabeth—”

“No, no, I wanna wait until at least this weekend. The longer you’re both gone with Liz still still keeping in touch, it lends weight to the cover story. You know, that you’re off somewhere together.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t care what people said about him, but he didn’t much like people speculating about Elizabeth behind her back. “Okay, but—”

“I also—I gotta work out a few things on my end, you know, so I’ll let you know what’s a good day. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Emily pushed her fries around her plate, wondering why she always ordered extra when she never had the appetite to finish them.

“If you’re not going to eat them—” Nikolas reached across the table, tugged on her plate. He set aside his burger, then dumped ketchup on what was left. Emily watched him with her chin propped on her first.

“Remember when you were an elegant prince who’d never seen ketchup?”

“What can I say? America has corrupted me.” Nikolas popped a fry in his mouth. “What’s bugging you?”

“Nothing I can talk about with you—” Emily started, then made a face when she saw a familiar face heading their way from the parking lot. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

Nikolas twisted in his seat, saw his brother, and sighed. “Em—”

“I know, you’ve forgiven him, and that’s fine, but—”

“Hey.” Lucky stopped by their table, one of his hands tucked in the pocket of his jeans. “I was hoping to run into you here today.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “I wasn’t.”

Lucky ignored the comment, took a seat. “I’m not here to apologize again or whatever. I just—” He looked down at his hands. “I know I acted like an idiot a few months ago, but I’ve been worried since the shooting at my dad’s place. I know Elizabeth was there that night, and I know she’s been gone since. I’m not stupid, Em. Jason and Elizabeth are both gone. One of them is hurt. I just—I wanted to know if she was okay.”

Emily lifted a brow. “I saw her the next day and she was fine. A few scratches from the gravel—Jason pushed her down in time.”

“Yeah, he’s got some experience in that area,” Nikolas said dryly. When Emily shot him a dirty look, he shrugged. “I got shot in the throat because of him, I get to have an opinion.”

“Anyway,” Emily said, rolling her eyes, “like I said, she’s fine. She’s just taking some time to work on her exhibition for next month—”

“She’s with Jason, you mean. So he  got hurt—”

“I’m not answering any other questions—”

“It’s my fault. All of this.” Lucky sat back. “If I hadn’t have introduced Elizabeth to him, or gone to work for Jason, then she wouldn’t be in danger now—”

“Jason’s my brother, so Elizabeth was always going to be around him,” Emily said without thinking and Lucky scowled. “Not that she’s with him now, I’m just saying—”

“You know, maybe I was off base about Elizabeth being into her before we broke up, but we both know I wasn’t wrong about him—”

“Maybe you were off base?” Nikolas said. Lucky ignored him, focused on Emily.

“He was into Liz for months—”

“Whatever Jason thought or felt isn’t the point. The only person who screwed up your relationship is you. Jason could have paraded naked in front of her, and Elizabeth wouldn’t have looked at him. She loved you.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Is that why you’re still talking trash about him? Because you want him to admit that he had the hots for your girlfriend? Big freaking deal. I had the hots for Nikolas when he was dating Sarah. Didn’t matter at all.”

Nikolas frowned. “What?”

“Oh, don’t be stupid. We both know I had a huge crush on you before I actually got to know you,” Emily said, waving her hand at him. “I kissed you.”

“Yeah, but you were high—”

“Which is why I had the courage—never mind.” Emily dismissed him, focused on Lucky. “Jason doesn’t owe you answers. So if that’s why you’re still aggravating him, I’d stop if I were you. It’s starting to look desperate and pathetic. I should know, that’s where I was two years ago over this one.”

“I really don’t think I like this conversation,” Nikolas decided.

“All I want to do was see if Elizabeth was okay,” Lucky said stiffly. “So thanks for that.” He got to his feet. “Sorry to bother you.”

Emily watched him go, then shook her head. “He’s so dramatic. It’s honestly annoying.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure how long Jason would be with Sonny, but the last few times they’d talked, it had been at least ten or fifteen minutes. She decided to take advantage of his absence to get in the water and cool off.

This time on the island, she’d been a little self-conscious about stripping off her cover-up and going in the ocean when he was around. Her red bikini wasn’t too revealing, but after things had changed between them, it suddenly felt like being naked around him.

And while Elizabeth thought maybe she was almost ready for that step, she knew it wasn’t definitely.

She dumped her bags near their usual spot, laid out her beach towel, then tugged her cover-up over her head. She’d do a quick dip, get her hair wet and cool, then towel off and cover up again. No problem.

Except she was in the water, covered to her chin when she saw Jason on the terrace, then crossing the sand towards the shoreline. Damn it. And of course, Jason wasn’t the least bit self-conscious trudging towards her with a pair of shorts hit just above his knee and the rest of his body completely bare—

Maybe she could just live in the water from now on. This could be her home. She might get wrinkled like a prune or starve to death, but at least she didn’t have to walk in front of Jason in nothing more than a wet bikini.

Okay, she was definitely overreacting, and she wasn’t actually naked as long as the straps didn’t come undone and humiliate her on the way back to the shore.

If she wanted to be an adult in a real relationship with the hope of physical intimacy in her future, she was gonna have to take the first step.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and stared to walk towards to the shore, emerging from the water, droplets streaming down her skin. The hot air hit her cooled skin, and she shivered slightly as she came towards the edge of the water.

Jason had stopped by their towels, and he was watching her. When she drew closer she saw that his eyes dip down, then slowly drag their way back up to meet her gaze. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Elizabeth reached him, her foot sinking into the hot sand. She fought the urge to fold her arms because that would only draw attention to that area. “I thought—you usually talk to Sonny, um, longer.” The towel she wanted to use to dry off was behind him on the ground.

“You—you could keep swimming.” Jason swallowed hard, his eyes dropping again briefly before lifting again. “You don’t have to stop.”

“I just wanted to, um, cool off a little. It’s…hotter today.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I, um, need my—” She gestured behind him. “My towel. It’s, um—”

Jason blinked, then cleared his throat, jumping as if he’d been put on fire. “Yeah, yeah, right. Okay.” He scooped up the towel, then held it out to her.

Elizabeth touched the rough fabric, curling her fingers around a piece of it, but he didn’t let go, and he was looking at her with something different in his eyes—something she didn’t really know what to do with or hadn’t seen before, but somehow, instinctively, she knew what it was. Desire. Physical. He was looking at her, and he wanted her.

She understood that feeling—hadn’t she felt the same way that night on the terrace when he’d been dripping wet, and those drops had slid down that smooth, golden chest—

She didn’t know who moved first or if they’d moved together, but the towel was tossed aside, and she was in his arms, her hands in his hair, and he was kissing her, devouring, and all that heat she’d seen in his eyes was pouring off him now, radiating through her until she was  burning, too.

They fell to the ground, and she was beneath him, panting as his lips left hers, cruised down her neck to the hollow of  her throat, and she jolted when he nipped at the soft sensitive skin,  his hands gliding up and down her body, hooking her leg over his waist. His mouth came back to hers, and a hurricane could have rained down on them, and Elizabeth wouldn’t have known the difference. She’d waited her whole life to feel like this, to be touched like this—

And then she moved her other leg, and Jason drew back with a wince, pain flashing across his face. “Damn it,” he muttered, sitting up, holding one hand to his side.

It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. Trembling, Elizabeth sat up. “Are—are you—I’m sorry. I didn’t—” She snatched up the towel she’d wanted earlier, held it against her chest. “I’m sorry.” She leapt to her feet and took off for the house.

August 7, 2024

This entry is part 30 of 36 in the series Flash Fiction: Warning Shots

Written in 64 minutes.


Late June 2000

He nearly didn’t go after her, but after a moment of indecision and ignoring the pain in his side, Jason moved as quickly towards the house as he could, only stopping to rinse the sand from his feet just by the terrace.

He expected to find her in her room, the door closed, but instead she was sitting on one of the loungers, a towel clutched to in front of her. Jason stopped just at the top of the stairs, unsure what to do now that he’d caught her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and her head snapped up, her brow furrowed. Jason swallowed hard. “I wasn’t thinking, and I went too fast, didn’t I? Or I-I made you uncomfortable and I’m sorry for that. It’s just—” It was just that he’d tried very hard not to think about her that way, especially after she’d told him about Lucky, about what that little son of a bitch had said to her. But then he’d seen her, walking towards him out of the water, water sliding down her bare skin, with nothing more than scraps of cloth covering— “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“You didn’t—” Elizabeth slowly got to her feet, still holding the towel in front of her, her eyes averted, on the ground. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me—”

“But—”

Her gaze flickered to him briefly before dropping again. “I just—um, I forgot. You’re hurt—”

“I’m fine—” Jason stepped towards her. “Is…is that why—”

“Why I ran away like a little girl? The kid that I keep promising I’m not?” She finally met his eyes head on and his throat tightened when he saw the shimmer of tears. “It’s really not you. I promise. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want.”

“Okay,” Jason said slowly, taking another step towards her, relieved when she didn’t back up. “Then what’s wrong?”

“I—” She closed her eyes, took a long, deep breath, then looked at him. “I don’t know. I just—I had a moment to think, and it was—it was just so fast—the way I just completely forgot where I was and—” She sat back on the lounger, pressed her forehead to the towel. “Can it just be enough that you didn’t do anything wrong? Do we have to talk about it?”

“No,” Jason said, carefully sitting on the lounger across from hers. “We don’t have to talk about anything if that’s what you want.”

Elizabeth sighed, sat up, rested the towel on her lap, her fingers plucking at the rough cloth. “But you’ll never touch me again because maybe I’ll go crazy on you—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I don’t want that. I don’t,” she said, shaking her head as if he’d protested. “I just—I want to be normal, you know? You—” She looked at him again. “You looked at me, and I could see what you wanted, and I liked it. And you’ll stop because you don’t want to scare me or pressure me—and then you’ll bottle it up and—”

“I’ll get irritated, and resentful and make it your fault,” Jason finished. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, but didn’t argue with him. “You think what happened with Lucky is your fault.”

“A little, maybe. I could—I could have done more, I guess—I know he’s the one that said it, and that’s on him, but I know the lack of—that it was affecting us. I could feel it happening, and I wanted to fix it—but it was already too far gone—” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to make the same mistakes.”

“You’re not. Elizabeth—”

“I just—I was so young when it happened,” Elizabeth confessed in a quiet voice. “I didn’t even know how much that night stole from me until I started to get it back—I’d never had a boyfriend. Never been kissed. I’d had crushes, but I’d never felt—” Her mouth tightened, and he hated to see the misery shimmering in her eyes. “The way I feel about you. It’s like pieces of me are waking up and coming back to life, and I s-should be glad. Okay? I sh-should be happy that I’m not scared and that maybe I can do and have all the things that I thought were gone.”

He hated this, he hated every minute of being on this side of the terrace and not right next to her, not holding her as the tears spilled down her cheeks. But he was—

Jason exhaled slowly. He was afraid to touch her. Just like she’d worried.

Bracing one hand against his side, he moved across the small space separating them and sat next to her, leaving a few inches between them. “You get to feel whatever you’re feeling, Elizabeth. There’s no right or wrong here.”

She shifted slightly to angle herself towards him, he was relieved to note, tears spilling from the corners of her beautiful eyes. “I shouldn’t be angry.”

“Why not? Why wouldn’t you be angry?” Jason wanted to know. “Something was taken from you. You had to take it back, piece by piece, and you never should have had to do any of that work.”

She pressed her hands to her mouth, closing her eyes, her shoulders shaking, but when he pulled her against him, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she didn’t flinch, but leaned in. He kissed the top of her head, and held her for a long moment, before she pulled back, swiping at her eyes.

“I should, um, go take a shower. The salt water is going to make my hair a complete mess.” She nervously ran a hand through the tangled, damp strands, already curling madly in the humidity. “Um, are you—I didn’t—hurt you, did I?” Elizabeth gestured at the wound in his side. He’d stopped wearing a dressing a day or two earlier, and the sides of the wound had started to close, but it would lead a visible scar.

“No, no. I just—” He got to his feet, held out his hand. She let him pull her up. Jason kept her hand in his. “I forgot, too,” he said, echoing her words. Going on instinct, he added, “I saw you—” Then he swept his eyes down her body, before meeting her eyes. “And I wasn’t thinking about it anymore.”

Elizabeth’s smile widened and he saw that light come back in her eyes. “I know the feeling.” She stepped closer to him, their bodies brushing. “Do you remember the night we were out here? A few months ago?”

“I do.”

Elizabeth raised her hand, lightly touched his chest with her fingertips the way she had that night. “You must have thought I’d lost my mind that night, but I couldn’t stop myself.” She licked her lips. “I told myself I was imagining it. But I wasn’t, was I?”

“No. And let me finish what I was started that night.” Jason cupped the back of her head, drew her against him, and kissed her. She relaxed against him, and he held her with his other hand splayed against her back, skin to skin. He’d meant to just kiss her lightly, just to reassure her, but he lost himself in the way she tasted, the feel of her beneath his hands, everything he’d been trying to pretend he didn’t want for weeks and weeks.

When they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily, their hearts pounding—he could feel hers against his chest, the flutter of her pulse under his fingers when he cupped her jaw. Her eyes were slightly glazed when they finally opened. She was so beautiful.

When her lips curved again, he realized he’d spoken the words out loud, and that he didn’t remember saying it before. He hadn’t given her anything she really deserved, and that was going to change, Jason decided right now.

“Tonight, I want to take you somewhere.”

“Oh yeah?” She wound her arms around his neck. “Where?”

“Out to dinner. There’s a place I go when I’m here, and you’d like it.” He kissed her again, stroked his fingers along her cheek. “We’ll go out on the bike.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Elizabeth asked, her fingers combing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah.” He caressed her bottom lip with his thumb, the way he’d done that night on the sofa. “What do you say?”

“The best offer I’ve had in months. Just tell me when and where so I know what to wear.”

“About six,” he decided, because he needed to make a few calls. “And we’re on the bike, so—” He sighed. “None of those skirts you like.”

“You look a little disappointed when you say that, so maybe I’m not the only one that likes them.” She kissed him again, but then backed away. “But I really need to wash my hair so it’s half decent. And grab our things from the beach—”

“I’ll get them.” He didn’t want to let her hand go, but didn’t have a choice when she headed for the doors. She turned back and smiled back at him, then went inside. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks pink, and he felt his own smile in response, stretching across his face.

Oh man, he was in real trouble.

More than a thousand miles away, another man was in a little trouble but Sonny Corinthos wasn’t one to admit that easily. Which is how he found himself sitting across from Luke in the back office of the club with a bad feeling swirling and no way to explain it.

“You just like being dramatic,” Luke said, looking at the end of his cigar before putting it back in his mouth and reaching for the lighter.

“Coming from you, that’s funny.” Sonny rubbed one finger along his bottom lip. “He made the meeting too easy. That’s what it is.”

“He was supposed to play hard to get?” Luke smirked. “Sorry, but you’re just making up reasons to be worried. Get Jason home, set up the alibi, and you’ll be all set.

“Yeah, yeah. I just—” Sonny got to his feet. “I feel like there’s something I missed. You know? Like a piece of this puzzle I’m missing. I can’t stop thinking that it’s all…simple. We still don’t even know for sure that Moreno set up the hit—”

“You’re not back to thinking my boy did it—” Luke scowled. “Even if he did, he wouldn’t know how to contact David Reece—”

“But other people do. I just don’t—”

“No one else has a reason to hate Jason the way Moreno does. And we’ve been over this. Elizabeth was just an accident — the shooter waited for Emily to be gone. End of story. No one even knew Morgan and Liz were really an item. They do now, but—”

Sonny sighed. “I know. I know. Lucky was the only one saying that bullshit, and no one believed him. They wouldn’t have waited so long if they did.”

“See? What’s what I’m saying. Make the meeting, finish this.”

“Yeah. Maybe when it’s over, I’ll be able to shake this feeling—I just hate feeling like I missed a detail.”

“You missed nothing,” Luke said again. “We went over it and over it. Relax, it’s all good.”

Later, Sonny would wish that he’d paid attention to his feeling, that he’d really gone over every detail because, well, he had missed something.

Something very important.

And it was too late to fix it.

——

On the island, he watched from the protection of the palm streets clustered around the house. Watched as the puta pranced down the steps in skin-tight jeans and a tight black top, strapped on her helmet, climbed on the bike, and the duo roared off down the road.

When they came back, he’d be waiting. He could be patient. He’d waited months, hadn’t he?

But it was going to end tonight.