Hope

Jerry rolled his head slowly from left to right, letting the weight of his head hang for a few more seconds as he felt the muscles in his neck stretch. The Tylenol he’d taken a half hour earlier still hadn’t kicked in and the throb in his temple was pounding.

He looked up and surveyed the sparse room in front of him. Jason tied to a simple kitchen table chair and Thane, pacing the floor in front of him. The three were now holed up in a small hunting cabin just outside of the city. Despite the rustic look and general musty smell, the fridge was fully stocked, the wireless was working at full speed and the air conditioning had kicked in just a few minutes earlier, bringing a much needed cool breeze to the stifling, tension filled air. They could only stay a few days here, Jerry’s friend would be bringing up his buddies from Pine Valley and the cabin had to be spotless by the weekend.

Jerry stood and walked towards the kitchen counter where the first aid kit sat open. Thane watched his movements closely. “What are you doing?”

Jerry let out a breath as he pulled on fresh gloves. “I’ve done your head, now I’m fixing his,” he said, nodding in Jason’s direction. “Go take a shower, I got this.”

Thane opened his mouth to snap back, but instead relented, and headed towards the bathroom, issuing Jason an icy stare as he did.

Good. The longer they stayed separated, the more time Jerry had to work out a solution. Grabbing gauze and alcohol, he came around to Jason’s side. “Turn your head,” he instructed the bristling man. Jason glowered at him, his own frosty glare mirroring Thane’s.

Jerry pursed his lips in irritation. “Mate, that doesn’t scare me. Turn your bloody head.”

A beat passed and then another until Jason tilted his head away to allow Jerry access to the gash he’d delivered only hours earlier. Years in the field as an operative had made him well versed in basic suturing skills.

“I hear your better self, the one that died, was going to be a doctor,” he said as he began to clean the wound. He didn’t anticipate or even want a conversation with Jason Morgan. His years of experience had led to encounters with all sorts of men and women of the underworld. Some were like Thane, peripheral, always dabbling, but having enough moral fortitude to get out when needed.

Others were like Jason, choosing to go dark. Live in it. Breathe in it.

“Funny story, I was heading down the medical path myself when I was a colt. It was unfortunate that I happened to be the eldest and had other talents at play. So I gave up the possibility of being a doctor and went in the opposite direction.”

He tilted Jason’s head up, angling for better light. He caught Jason’s eye in the movement. “Saved my brother by doing that. I’m no hero, but when I look at him and his life, I feel proud.”

He dropped the soiled gauze into the nearby garbage and reached for the butterfly closures on the counter. Carefully he placed the six bandages in place and leaned back to examine his work, much like an artist would. He gave a sharp smile. “Bloody hell, I haven’t lost my touch at all.”

He removed his gloves and washed his hands at the kitchen sink before grabbing bottled water from the fridge. Snapping the lid off, he held the rim of the bottle up to Jason’s lips. Again, the man waited a beat, as if every decision he made was after weighing the pros and cons of each possibility. He opened his mouth slightly, to allow Jerry to ease a small stream of cold liquid into the parched man’s mouth.

Jerry looked down at the killer, the man who’d taken so much from his friend. “I don’t know if Thane will kill you,” he said evenly. “But if he does, I’ll make sure that the people who care enough about you will get your body back.” Jason pulled his head away and Jerry smoothly took back the bottle, ensuring that not a single drop of water was wasted.

He took the seat in front of Jason, so they were now face to face. Jerry offered a grim look as Jason stared back with indifference. “No sense in prolonging their suffering, isn’t that right?”

*~*

The two women clutched hands tightly, their fingers laced together.

Emily had come to her best friend to tell her of what had happened. Of Thane and Jason and how their worlds had come together in the most ugly of ways.

Gia had opened the door, her face ashen and gaunt, her immense fear etched into her beautiful countenance. They had taken one look at each other, the mirroring stare of a woman who was barely keeping her head above water, and had collapsed into each other’s arms, crying and apologizing, the story burbling out on the front stoop of Gia’s home, the same stoop Emily had helped Gia move into. The same stoop they had spent 15 minutes arguing on how to get Gia’s too large for the door Christmas tree into the building and up the flights of stairs that first year.

Gia swiped fresh tears away as Emily put a comforting arm around her slim shoulder.

“I have to tell Marcus. I know you said Sonny was going to try and get Jason back himself, but I have to try too. He’ll hate me, but he would do something. Marcus and Jack are best friends, they have connections too.”

Emily let out a knowing sigh. “Sonny’s not going to try to get Jason back. Try is not a word Sonny knows. He’ll just keep mowing down whatever’s in his way until Jason is put in front of him.”

Gia took a cleansing breath as she sat up, straightening her shoulders. She wanted to do something, do anything, and be productive. Alexis would be productive; Alexis would be doing half a dozen different things if she were in Gia’s shoes. “I should call Alexis,” she said softly, pulling out her phone. Her mentor would find out anyway.

Emily looked up as she heard a car door slam. “Don’t bother.”

Gia turned to see a worried looking Alexis approaching. A surge of relief filled her in that precious moment, one she clung to as she rose from the cold cement stoop and walked down the few steps to the sidewalk. Behind Alexis came Marcus, an inscrutable expression on his face as he approached the two young women.

For a brief, horrifying moment, Emily believed Marcus was there to tell her Jason had been killed. That there had been nothing anyone could do to save him from Thane’s wrath. That the kind of grief Thane held had been too much to bear, and before anyone could even breathe, Jason’s life was over.

Instead Marcus reached the stoop, gave a brief, wordless look to Alexis, exchanging so much in the single glance that Emily almost marveled at the power of what had happened in the blink of an eye.

Marcus turned back to Gia. “C’mere Gee,” he murmured softly as he held his arms open. Compassion filled his eyes as he saw the pain that was radiating from his baby sister.

He was furious and confused and he wanted so badly to slam his fist into Morgan’s face, he could taste it. He wanted to shake Gia, hard, shake some sense into her.

Gia let out a shuddering sob. One of sadness and relief and shame.

She loved Jason Morgan.

Marcus knew.

He loved her anyway.

Her big brother.

Her protector.

Always.

She fell into his arms, pressing her face into his strong chest. “I’m sorry!” she cried, over and over as his arms closed around her in a reassuring embrace. Marcus simply held her as she shook. For a few silent moments, he felt powerless. Powerless to stop Gia’s pain and powerless to stop what was unfurling with every second that passed.

He looked at Alexis once more and she held his gaze, love radiating from her eyes and he took in a breath, no longer feeling powerless, and grateful for all that he had in his life.

“We will figure this out,” he promised, pressing a kiss against Gia’s forehead. “Just like we always do. I am here and you are here and that will always be a safe, warm place where we can figure things out together.”

Emily looked on longingly, wishing desperately that Marcus’s heartfelt words were true.

That Thane would put down his pain and let Jack save him.

That Jason would live.

That no one would die.

Her pocket vibrated and she pulled it out. A text message had come through.

I’m here.

*~*

Marcus

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