Her mind racing, Carly backed her way down to
hall and rushed quickly to the guestroom.
She entered careful to shut the door quietly behind her. Leaning against it, she quickly surveyed the
room and nodded to herself in satisfaction.
“Move over,” she demanded as she bent down, leaving the pitcher behind
the doorframe and began to pull anxiously at her boots. She yanked them off, tossing them
negligently on the floor on either side of her.
When she straightened up, unbuckled her belt
and started undoing her jeans, Jason began to get a little concerned. “Carly, what –“ he began, only to be cut
off in mid sentence.
“Don’t argue with me. There’s no time. Just move over,” she
insisted. Jason made no move to do as
she wished, instead crossing his arms over his chest, his resolute expression
announcing his intent on an explanation.
She rolled her eyes at his obstinacy and asked, “Do you trust me?”
“You know I do,” he answered without pause.
The response that was meant to please instead put a frown on her face. The simply surety in his voice and the trust
in his eyes almost caused her undoing for she knew she had no right to that
trust after last night’s betrayal.
Once more, images of her explosive encounter with Sonny plagued her mind. Why did it seem that every word spoken,
every thought, always led her back to her and Sonny and their stupid,
self-destructive behaviour, she wondered.
With firm resolve, she pushed the pain of the night before aside, vowing
never again to let Jason down. She
smiled too brightly and said, “So trust
me now.” With that, she grabbed the hem
of her top, pulling it off over her head in one swift movement, and added it to
the clothing strewn across the floor.
Clad only in her undergarments, she strode towards the bed motioning for
Jason to move over with her hands. He
made no argument and obliged trusting in her even if he did not understand her
reasons.
She bent over and mussed her hair before
carefully easing herself into bed beside him, taking care not to jostle it too
much with her movements. She settled
comfortably beside him, mindful of the wounded side closest to her. Looking around, she spotted Jason’s antibiotics
on the night table and quickly moved them into the top drawer out of view. Satisfied she hadn’t forgotten anything, she
turned towards him and laughingly said, “And could you at least try to look
like you’re enjoying yourself. You
know, like old times?”
He ignored the gentle reminder of times past,
opting instead to ask ”Are you going to let me in on what’s going on here?”
“You’ll learn soon enough,” she cryptically
answered, leaning forward to brush her forehead gently against his. From the hallway, the sound of approaching
voices could be heard, first faintly and then steadily getting louder as they
drew near.
“Carly?” he asked, his voice filled with
unease.
“Shhhh...,” she soothed, shaking her head
back and forth against his, her silken tresses lightly caressing his chest and
shoulders. She lifted her hand and ran
it through his dishevelled hair and lovingly down the side of his face. “Trust me.”
“Carly…,”
unease edged his voice as he fully realized this wasn’t just another one
of her games.
“Lay- terrrrr. Just sit back and relax and let me take care of you. You used to like it when I took care of
you. Remember?” She traced a finger down the side of his
neck and lightly down his chest causing him to smile in remembrance. Her eyes danced with his as they shared
memory without speaking, their troubles temporarily forgotten. She laughed, breaking the moment between
them and leaned in to nuzzle at his neck, while he bent to lightly kiss her
shoulder. The low sultry tones of her
laugher warmed him in ways no blanket ever could, and he wondered why he had
not turned to her before knowing she would have welcomed him. He shifted slightly, turning to kiss her
hair and took in the scent of her, breathing her in as if she alone could
sustain him.
That was how Tagget and Sonny found
them: long time lovers, languidly
seeking solace in each others arms. The intimate sounds of Carly’s low husky
laugh encompassed the two lovers evoking memories of pleasures past and making
promises of untold pleasures to come.
The two men stood awkwardly at the door transfixed by their surprise at
the sight before them.
Loudly clearing
his throat, Taggert made their presence known.
At the sound, Carly spun around to face the men at the doorway,
seemingly surprised at the interruption.
“Well, well, well. What do we
have here?” queried the very surprised and somewhat amused lieutenant as Carly
arranged herself carefully ensuring an obstructed view of Jason’s wounds
concealed behind her. She pulled at the
sheets, quickly in embarrassment, arranging them to cover the two of them as
best she could. “Mr. Morgan. MRS. Quartermaine,” Taggert greeted,
unable to keep the smile that insistently tugged at his lips from showing.
“Sonny, what is
this?” demanded Jason, although he knew already. Silently he thanked God for Carly’s quick thinking while in the
same thought he damned her impulsiveness.
What would this cost her, he wondered.
Clearing his
throat in apology Sonny shifted his gaze from the foot of the bed to Jason and
answered, “He uh – he had a warrant.
Nothing I could do. Sorry.”
Breaking eye contact, he resumed his careful study of the bedposts. He made every effort not to look at Carly
but could not forget the glimpse he had had of her when they first walked in -
lying against Jason’s chest like she belonged there. But he knew what she was and he quietly mocked himself for being
surprised at finding her in Jason’s bed.
“Find what your
looking for, Detective?” asked a defiant Carly. She kept her eyes on Taggert resisting the urge to seek out Sonny
opposite him. She could just imagine
what he was thinking, and she wondered why she cared. He made it perfectly clear last night what he thought of her.
“And then some,”
replied Taggert. “And it’s Lieutenant
now,” he corrected, annoyance edging his voice.
“Right. So
sorry.” She cheekily replied.
“What does he
want?” asked Jason of Sonny, completely ignoring Taggert. He casually pulled Carly closer to him
causing her to lean on him, her back flush against his wounded side. The
movement caught Sonny’s attention and he understood the action for what it was:
an attempt to conceal Jason’s wounds.
Still, he didn’t like it. He did
not afford himself the luxury of examining why, too closely.
“He,” stressed Taggert, “wants to
question you about your whereabouts last night.” He continued with the impromptu interrogation, ignoring the total
inappropriateness of the situation.
“You weren’t by any chance down on pier 17, were you? Word on the street is that something big
went down. Moreno’s nowhere to be
seen.”
Smiling
mischievously Carly interjected, “Sorry to disappoint you Taggert, but Jason
was with me last night. Looks like
you’ll actually have to do your job and find the real criminals, this
time. You know, you can’t blame
everything that goes wrong in this town on Jason and Sonny.” That she included him in her defence
surprised Sonny. He knew full well
she’d be happy to see him take up permanent residence in Pentonville as long as
Jason wasn’t fitted for the adjoining cell.
“No, just the
racketeering, drive by shootings, territorial mob wars and what have you. So, where were you last night Morgan?”
“Like Carly said,
I can’t help you.”
“You were with
Mrs. Quartermaine? All last
night?” he raised his brows in question
knowing full well the explosive impact the answer would have if it became
public knowledge.
Without hesitation
Carly answered, “That’s what I said Taggert! What are you? Hard of hearing?”
she antagonized.
“Carly –“ Jason
warned.
“Well – “
“You were here?”
Taggert interrupted, trying to gain control of the conversation. “In Mr. Corinthos’ apartment?”
“No.” She drew the word out as if explaining to a
small child. “We were at the Port
Charles Hotel.”
“But you’re here
now.” He motioned to the room with the pen he was absently making notes with.
Carly slowly took
in her surroundings and confirmed, “Apparently.”
Making himself
comfortable, Taggert leaned against the doorframe crossing his arms before
him. “I think you’d better start from
the beginning, Mrs. Quartermaine. And
please, don’t spare any details,” he smirked.
“There’s not much
to tell. AJ and I got into a fight last night and I left.” Despite hearing it for the first time, Jason
knew her well enough to know by the tone of her voice that that much was true.
Taggert made a few
notes on his writing pad and continued to question, “And you went immediately
to the hotel?”
“Not right
away.” She paused in pretence of trying
to get last night’s events exactly right.
“I spent some time out on the docks…, waited for Jason to show up, and when it got too cold, we went to the
hotel and rented a room.” She shrugged
marking the end of her “sordid” little story.
“Together?”
“Any other meaning
of ‘we’?”
Ignoring her
glibness he probed for more detail, “What time did you reach the hotel?”
“I’m not sure, but
it was early still.” She frowned trying
to remember when she had checked in to the hotel, worried her alibi would be of
no help to Jason. “Look, I’ve already
told you Jason was with me last night.
Isn’t that enough?”
“Not if you’re
lying for him.” He kept her unwavering
eye contact trying to measure the truth of her words and decided to let the
matter of their hotel stay go for the moment.
It was time for answers for the here and now. “I want to know how the two of you ended up over here.”
“Fine.”
“Carly that’s
enough,” Jason interrupted, giving her a tight squeeze. “Taggert got what he came for. Anything else is none of his business.”
She turned to him,
“No, Jase. I’m sick and tired of the
cops waltzing in and accusing you of every crime that happens in Port
Charles.” She turned back to face the
man at the door “You want a blow by blow of my day, Taggert? Here it is: I woke up this morning, checked
out of the hotel and went back to the Quartermaine’s. When I got there, AJ was waiting for me. We had another fight. This time, about where I was last night.
Since Michael was out with Leticia, I left and came looking for Jason. He was here. End of story.”
Taggert jotted a
few more notes down looking for weaknesses in her story. “You checked out of
the hotel by yourself?” At Carly’s nod
he pressed, “Where was Mr Morgan?”
She shrugged,
dismissing his concern. “I’m a late
sleeper. Besides it wouldn’t be a good
idea to check out of the family hotel with my husband’s brother, now would
it?”
Unable to fault
her logic, Taggert continued “But what are you doing here now?”
“Well, I should
think it’s pretty obvious what we’re doing here, Taggert. Has it been that long?” Carly gave the stern lieutenant a saucy
smile as she suggestively gave him a quick once over. The man could do with a bit of female company, she thought. No wonder he was so uptight.
“Carly –“ Jason
didn’t know why he bothered warning her at this point. She would do what she wanted regardless of
what he said. He supposed it was an
automatic reflex, which would have struck him as funny, if not for their
current circumstances.
Ignoring her
innuendo, Taggert proceeded undeterred, “But why didn’t the two of you move
over to Mr Morgan’s apartment?”
“Because AJ wouldn’t
think to look here, and Sonny was
supposed to be going out.” She stressed the second half of the sentence
and looked over towards Sonny as if she blamed him for the rude interruption of
her romantic interlude with Jason. She
was careful however, and avoided looking at him directly, fearful of what she
would see in his eyes. She could not
hold the pretence up long however, and finally lowered her gaze to the
bedspread before her.
She needn’t have
worried. Sonny was doing his best to
avoid her gaze as well. He had just
stood there and listened as she fabricated her story, amazed at how easily the
lies flew off her tongue. But she was a
liar and he knew that about her. She
was skilled. He had to give her
that. Artfully weaving in half-truths
to make her story sound somewhat credible.
He wondered how long she had stood at the top of the stairs
eavesdropping to know that he had told Taggert he was going out. Or maybe the liar just got lucky with that
one. That she was lying for Jason made
no difference. As easily as she could
lie for him, she would lie to him.
He knew that too. And he would
not let her use her lies to sink her claws deeper into Jason than they already
were. Jason deserved better than her.
An uncomfortable
silence filled the room as everyone waited for someone else to speak. Taggert studied Carly carefully as she
absently ran her hands over the bedspread yet another time. Turning away from them was the first honest
action she’d made since he and Sonny had unexpectedly appeared, he
thought. The change in her was
palpable. Where she was boldly defiant
before now she was quiet, subdued.
Taggert interpreted the change in her as guilt over her infidelity, and
he was right in his assessment. Only
the man she betrayed was not her husband.
And the man she was unfaithful with was not Jason.
Carly
unconsciously adjusted the sheets around her and Jason attempting to cover them
more completely. Sonny had tried to
keep his eyes off of her but her actions compelled him to look at her, to
really look at her, since finding her here with Jason. Since finding her in bed
with Jason. She was picking at the
sheets with her left hand, every once in a while removing imaginary balls of
lint he knew didn’t exist. His gaze
moved slowly upward along her arm and abruptly stopped at what he found
there.
Carly had been
avoiding Sonny ever since he had walked through the door with Taggert. She knew what he was thinking: last night
she was in his bed and now she was in Jason’s.
He’d wanted to prove her a whore before and now she had done it for
him. Twice over. She could feel Sonny’s gaze on her and could
stand the tension no longer. The weight
of his stare burned her and she wondered that Jason and Taggert did not sense
it. Finally, she faced him. She looked up expecting to see scorn in his
eyes or his ever-present hatred but instead his expression was unreadable,
closed. He wasn’t quite looking at her,
she realized, but at her arm “Sonny
what -- ” she began to ask, unmindful of the company they kept. Her eyes followed his line of sight and
stopped at the tell tale bruises on her arm.
She closed her eyes, berating herself for not having the forethought to
keep her arm covered.
“Is there
something you want to report to the police, Mrs. Quartermaine?” Taggert quietly
asked.
“What are you
implying, Lieutenant?” she demanded, the fire returning to her eyes.
“I don’t
know. Perhaps you’d like to file some
assault charges against Mr. Morgan here?”
“What? Are you out
of your mind, Taggert? Jason would
never hurt me, or
anyone.”
He scoffed in
obvious disbelief. “Mr. Quartermaine,
then?”
Carly’s mind
raced. Unwittingly, Taggert had just
given her the perfect excuse for the bruising on her arm. And she could not pass up the opportunity of
a reluctant Taggert as a witness to AJ’s abuse should they ever end up in a
custody battle over Michael. She gave
herself no more time for consideration and quietly confessed, ”AJ didn’t mean
to,” her eyes downcast as if ashamed to be making excuses for AJ’s
behaviour. The lint picking went into
overdrive.
Taggert may have
believed Carly, but Jason knew the truth was otherwise. He had looked from the bruising on Carly’s
arm to the expression on Sonny’s face and had immediately known. Sonny was responsible for the marks on
her. The truth of it was plainly
written on his face. His guilt lay in
his stance and in his refusal to meet Jason’s gaze. And Jason was right.
Sonny could not face him now, like this, with the full knowledge of what
he had done weighing upon him.
Carly, feeling
embarrassed and decidedly uncomfortable, tried to shrug it off. “Like I said, we had that fight last night.
You know me,” she carefully avoided Sonny’s gaze, “I guess I just pushed him
one step too far that’s all.”
“Well, if you’d like to make a state-“
“What I’d really like to do is get some clothes on, so if you gentlemen wouldn’t mind?” her
irritation evident in her tone indicating she used the word in its’ most
broadest of definitions.
“We’re not through with this Morgan.
Not even close.” He closed his
notepad and pocketed his pen, following Sonny out the door into the hall.
Carly and Jason
waited in silence for Sonny and Taggert’s voices to disappear down the
hall. When they could be heard no more,
Carly sat up, ran her hands through her hair and breathed a huge sigh of
relief. “I guess I should get some
clothes on.” She turned to him smiling,
raising her brow suggestively, “Unless of course, you’re up to a little
fun?”
Jason laughed at
her antics, and immediately clutched his side when the movement sent a searing
pain through his torso.
Instantly her
demeanour changed from playful to panicked.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She leaned back to him checking his
bandages, concerned he had torn open the wound once again. She was relieved to find no blood, but still
worried, “Are you ok? Did I hurt you?”
“Carly, I’m
fine.” At the doubtful look she gave
him, he reassured, “Really.”
“Yeah?” she asked,
knowing he would say he was fine even when he wasn’t. Jason nodded. “Ok.”
She held his gaze a moment longer before nodding her satisfaction and
carefully easing out of the bed. She
rummaged about the floor for her discarded clothing, pulling on her shirt and
jeans as quickly as she had taken them off earlier. She grabbed her boots and sat down with her feet up on the bed,
making ready to pull them on. Looking
up she caught Jason’s eye as he watched her and was pleased to find a mixture
of laughter and desire there. She
grinned impishly and pulled her boots on, Sonny’s bedspread be damned.
He smiled with
her, knowing exactly what she was thinking, but the smile soon fell from his
face as he remembered why she was getting dressed in the first place. “You shouldn’t have done that.” He motioned to the door where Taggert and
Sonny had just exited.
She made a face,
not in the mood for a lecture on her impulsiveness. “Well what was I supposed to do?
Let Taggert cart you off to jail?”
“What about AJ?”
he countered. “AJ will use this against
you to get Michael, if he finds out.”
Carly
frowned. Of course she hadn’t thought
that far ahead when she had first devised her plan to be Jason’s alibi. She couldn’t see past saving Jason at the
time, and once more she had acted without considering the consequences. But Michael wouldn’t pay for her
mistakes. “It won’t come to that,” she
denied.
“How do you
know?” His voiced softened, “You need
to be more careful than that.”
“I know because
you’ll take care of it for me. You
always do.” She smiled brightly, trying
to mask her concern about the situation she had just placed them all in. “I -- I wasn’t going to let them put you in
jail for what happened last night.”
“You don’t even
know what happened last night” Jason teased.
“Well, I would if
you told me, now wouldn’t I?” she formed a small moue, pouting prettily, hoping
he would confide in her and trust her with the knowledge of what she was
protecting.
“Carly,” he
warned.
“I know! I know.
Business.” She smiled, hiding
her disappointment well. There was a
long pause as she considered the possible ramifications of her deception and
the effect it could have on Michael. If
news of this got back to AJ, he would use it to keep her child from her. Fear gripped her at the thought. She would never let that happen. Never.
“Besides,” she rationalized, trying to calm herself, “Taggert, he thinks
AJ hurt me now. Given the choice between
an abuser and an adulteress in a custody battle, which would you choose?”
she smiled wryly.
He ignored her question
and brought up the topic they were both studiously avoiding. “But AJ didn’t hurt you.” The smile fell from her face as he finished,
“Sonny did.”
PH4 ― The Living Room
Sonny and Taggert
made their way down the stairs to where the second officer patiently waited
below. “You find anything, Watts?” At the negative shake of his head, Taggert
scoffed. “Why am I not surprised?”
“What is this,
Taggert? You find something. I’m guilty.
You find nothing and I’m still guilty?”
Sonny made his way over to the bar, reaching automatically for the
brandy. Knowing he had to keep a clear
head, he changed his mind, opting for the water instead. “Unbelievable,” he
muttered under his breath, before taking a sip.
Not to be
deterred, Taggert continued his previous line of questioning, “I still haven’t
heard where you were during all this.”
Sonny shrugged,
stating, “I was here.”
“Witnesses?”
Squinting, Sonny
looked up at the ceiling as if in deep thought, “Ah…Hannah was here. Then she left, came back about an hour
later. Then she left again.” Anger flooded through him as he recalled the
circumstances of her leaving, the argument they’d had and the reason behind it. If he’d dealt with her sooner, none of this
would have happened, he thought. But
now was not the time for self-recrimination.
There would be plenty of time for that later. He reigned in his temper before meeting Taggert’s steady watchful
gaze. “Benny came over to discuss
business after that.”
“Business,”
Taggert repeated, a smile of understanding pursing his lips. “I’ll bet.”
“We’re through
here.” Sonny set his water down on the
bar and made his way to the door. He
opened it, noting Johnny still had not returned from his errands and ushered
the men out. He smiled, the light
reflecting coldly like glass in his eyes and said, “Don’t even think of coming
back without an arrest warrant.” Not
bothering to wait for a reply, he succinctly shut the door behind them.
PH4 ― The Guestroom
The silence
lengthened as Carly and Jason stared at one another, each waiting for the other
to speak. The question hung in the air,
tangibly, an object between them that neither wanted to touch. Reaching out to the unspoken, Jason looked
meaningfully down to the bruises on her arm and back to her face, asking for an
explanation of last night’s events
“It was nothing,”
she dismissed turning her face away from him.
But the movement meant to curb the discussion only served to raise more
questions as it brought attention to her cheek where he could see a slight
redness across her skin.
“Sonny didn’t hit
you, did he?” His disbelief was
obvious. He could not believe his best
friend capable of such a thing despite the evidence before him. But it was obvious as well, and he wondered
why he had not seen it before: she had been hit.
“What?” Her apparent surprise reassured him. “No, it was nothing like that,” she
vehemently denied.
“Then what’s
this?” he quietly asked, softly caressing the redness on her check.
She frowned in
puzzlement, genuinely at a loss as to what he was referring. From nowhere, memory returned recalling what
had Jason so concerned. “Oh that.” She smiled at the memory of her morning
confrontation with Hannah. “Sonny
didn’t do that. Hannah did.” Jason arched a brow at the unexpected
answer. “Let’s just say I’ve had a busy
morning and leave it at that.”
“Carly, you’re
picking fights with Sonny, Hannah?
Why?” She said nothing, dismayed
at his assumption that she went looking for trouble. Although it may have been true in the latter case, she did not
come to the penthouse to fight with Sonny last night. If she had been thinking, she would never have come and the whole
miserable night would not have happened.
How could she explain to Jason what happened when she barely understood
it herself? But in her silence she
spoke volumes and Jason knew more happened than what either Sonny or Carly was
telling. “What happened between the two
of your last night that Sonny would lay hands on you?”
“Doesn’t matter
now.” She evaded his stare. “What matters is that you’re going to be ok
and I’m going to take care of you.”
“Carly –.“ He wanted to pursue this but she would not
have it.
“Jase, leave it alone.
Please.” Carly could not talk about it
now, with him, especially with him.
What could she say? And she
wanted no reminders of Sonny and their night together while she was with
Jason. Seeing that he would not relent,
she gave him enough to allay his apprehension.
“I’m fine. Sonny…he didn’t even
really hurt me. It – it was
nothing. So you can stop worrying about
me and worry about yourself for a change.”
Tacitly he agreed
to let the matter go by changing the subject, “Did you really spend the night
at the hotel?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’ll all check out.” Jason shook his head, indicating that wasn’t
his reason for asking. He was worried
about her, not his alibi.
Understanding, she explained, “Last night… was a really bad night for
me.” Rolling her eyes she added dryly,
“Today hasn’t been much better either.”
She swivelled around on her bottom, lying down to face him. “I just – I just couldn’t go back to that house. You know?”
He nodded in
understanding. “Thank you.”
“For what?” she laughed.
“For saving me.”
She shook her head
in denial. “You’ve done the same for me
on countless occasions. I don’t think
we’ll ever be even.” She bit her lip,
leaning her head to one side and asked, “You’re really going to be ok?”
“I’ll be fine,” he
reassured. And although the words were
the same, this time he said it in a way that made her believe it was true.
“Good. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. My heart couldn’t take it. You know?”
“I know.” They
shared a smile and then settled down on the bed in companionable silence,
content just to be enjoying the quiet together.
PH4 – The Dining Area
Sonny stood by the terrace windows staring beyond the view before him,
into the memory of his past. Clearly,
he heard Adella’s voice, just as he had heard Carly softly declare ‘he didn’t
mean to.’ He closed his eyes as memory
of her crying behind closed doors washed over him. Sounds from the past he never imagined to hear again. Enthralled
by remembrances of that other time and place he remained as he was. His gaze beheld the breathtaking view and
yet, he perceived nothing. He shut his
eyes against the onslaught of images besieging his mind as if that simple act could
stop the flow and repair the dam around his carefully shored up past. But memory
held him hostage now and forced him to relive moments he would never forget.
Darkness and cold surrounded. He
sat crouched, hidden in the back of the hallway closet, arms wrapped
protectively about his knees. The cover
of Adella’s long winter coat protected him from immediate view. The scent of
her perfume hung lightly in the air and its fragrance comforted him. The closet itself was musty, its’ bare
hardwood floors cold. He had built a make shift little burrow there, the floor
lined with unused forgotten sweaters.
Sometimes, when he remembered, he would hide snacks in the pockets of
the seldom used clothing shoved into the back of the closet, forgotten, like he
was now, so he would not get hungry when left there too long. It was his sanctuary: the one place where
Deke would never follow him.
Despite the warmth his mother’s coat provided, he shivered
uncontrollably as he helplessly listened to the escalating argument beyond the
closet door. He could hear the shouting
clearly. It was getting louder and
louder and he waited for the moment when it would stop…to be replaced by
something much worse. The first blow
was always the hardest. It was always a
surprise although it was expected, even morbidly anticipated. This time was no different. He flinched when he heard the distinctive
smack of Deke’s fist as it struck his mother and the resounding thud that
followed as she fell to the floor. They
had been closer to the closet than he thought, he realized, surprised by the
shadow that fell across the gap beneath the closet door. He reached out to it, to the shadow of his
mother, but his little fingers were met only by the shocking cold of the bare
floor. He retracted his touch
quickly: there was no comfort to be
sought there. Ant yet the cold remained
with him. It was a different sort of
cold, chilling him from the inside out born of emptiness and isolation. He was alone.
And yet he wasn’t. Just two feet
away, beyond the closet door, in what seemed a world apart, his mother lived
her own private hell. As Adella lay on
the floor sobbing, Deke beat her.
Repeatedly. Relentlessly. She pleaded with him to stop, never
realizing the more she pleaded, the harder his strikes became. Her cries fuel to his rage and his anger in
perverse encouragement. Deke was in his element. Exerting his power and dominance over one too weak to defend
herself. He revelled in it. And when he had beat the last cry out of
her, when she could plead no more, the sobbing ceased and became a heart
wrenching, keening noise. It was like
that of wounded animal fatally injured, making its’ last cry for help that
would not come. She began to whimper
and Michael held his hands to his ears, trying to block out the sound of his
mother’s pain, as well as his own at the knowledge he could not to spare her
this suffering. Unable to withstand the
whimpering and soft moans that somehow seemed so much worse than her sobs, he
began to rock back and forth deathly in time to her mournful misery.
And just as suddenly as Deke began his assault, he stopped. He stood over her frail form a few moments
before mumbling something unintelligible in a low voice. He paused as if expecting an answer, finally
moving away when there was none. He
stormed around the house, ostensibly in search of his keys, grumbling
intermittently about Adella’s housekeeping habits or lack thereof. Finding the missing keys, exactly where he’d
left them when he came in that night, Deke left without another word. Within moments, his car could be heard
pulling out of the driveway. Michael
sighed in relief. The worst was
over... for now.
In the quiet after the storm, Michael crawled out of the closet and
moved to comfort his mother lying still, like a rag doll on the floor. Careful to approach from where she could see
him, he sat beside her, placed her head in his lap and silently began to stroke
her hair, taking care of her then, in ways he could not before.
The sound of someone bounding down the stairs jarred Sonny loose of the
stronghold of his memory. He blinked
hard, once then twice, willing the memories away as he pulled himself out of
the past and into the present. Looking
up, he was mesmerized by the sun’s brilliance as it suddenly emerged from
shadow, bathing him in light. A few
moments later he felt Carly pass him on her way to the kitchen. He closed his eyes and basked in the sun’s
warmth for the briefest of moments before quietly calling to her, “Carly.”
She halted abruptly at the unexpected whisper of her name. The soft, intimate tone sent a shiver up her
spine like a caress carried by the wind across her skin. She quickly squelched the sensation and
turned to find Sonny by the terrace, his face uplifted basking in light. She was struck by how peaceful he looked and
wondered how this could be the same man she had fought so terribly with the
night before. “Sonny, I – I was just
getting Jason something to drink.” She
held up the empty pitcher she carried to forestall any argument.
He turned to her then and the light fell from his face throwing him back
into shade and shadow. She knew from
the haunted look in his eyes what she had seen before had been merely the
illusion of peace. He held her gaze
before he answered, echoes of Adella’s cries still clouding his head. “It can wait. Come here.” When she made
no move towards him he softly added, “Please.”
A crease furrowed Carly’s brow as she placed the pitcher on the table
and did as requested. Slowly she
approached, almost as if Sonny inexorably drew her to him with the power of his
gaze. In his eyes she saw pain, an old
pain: one that lingered and threatened to consume him, the likes of which she
had seen only once before. Now as then,
she found herself wanting to soothe him, to end his suffering, but didn’t know
how and knew also that he would want nothing from her.
He reached for her, tentatively grasping her left hand with his
own. He used his other hand to push up
her shirtsleeve until the bruising on her arm was completely uncovered. He ran his fingers lightly, almost
reverently over her discoloured skin. A
tear fell silently down her check as she watched him contemplate the marks he
had made on her. Finally he spoke
breaking the silence between them. “You
and I both know where these came from, and it wasn’t AJ.”