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Jason Morgan watched his ''son''
sleeping peacefully in his crib and felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't had
a decent night's sleep in days and he felt ready to collapse. He looked
up reluctantly at a patient rap on the door. Renaldo stuck his head
in and nodded at Jason. ''Spencer's here to see you,'' he said,
opening the door a little wider.
Jason
smiled slightly and returned his gaze to Michael. ''Oh, sure. Hey Luke,''
he said as he heard the door close.
''It's
me Jason,'' Lucky said quietly.
Jason
looked up in surprise. ''Oh,'' he said. ''Sorry,'' he said with a slight
frown. ''I was expecting your dad.''
''Obviously.''
Lucky flopped down on the couch and looked at Michael in his crib. ''At
least somebody's getting some sleep,'' he said bitterly.
''What
do you need, Lucky?'' Jason asked, trying not to be to rude. He couldn't
fathom a reason for Lucky's visit.
''You
mean you didn't hear?'' Lucky seemed honestly surprised. He glanced at
Michael again and then back at Jason. ''Maybe you should take
him to bed.''
Jason
nodded. ''Yeah. Just as soon as you tell me what's going on. You've never
shown up like this before.''
Lucky
sighed. ''I thought you would've heard by now,'' he said quietly. ''I just
came by to say I'm sorry. I know it isn't much, but I feel like I
owe you SOMETHING.''
Jason
stared at Lucky, exasperated. Why wouldn't the kid just spit it out? ''All
right, Lucky. I get that your sorry and you feel like you owe me
something, but would you PLEASE just tell what's going on?''
''Emily
ran away from home.''
''Emily
what?''
Lucky
sat up stiffly on Jason's couch and regarded him with bloodshot eyes. ''I
haven't been much of a friend,'' he admitted. ''I've been ignoring her
for a months. I don't blame her for hating me. I'm pretty sure she did,
you know, or still does.'' He stopped, taking a deep breath. ''I'm
just babbling,'' he said. ''I know you don't care about any of this. But
you deserve to know about your sister.''
''You
thought I already knew,'' Jason said pointedly.
''Yeah,''
Lucky said with another sigh. ''I thought maybe-''
''She
came here?''
''Yeah.
You're usually the one she goes to.'' Lucky stood and smiled slightly.
''I should've known she wasn't here,'' he said. ''As soon as I saw
your face. Just let me know if you hear anything, okay Jason,'' he pleaded.
''She has to be okay, and if she is, I SWEAR to a better friend.'' He shook
his head. ''I keep thinking this is partly my fault.''
''It's
not,'' Jason interrupted before Lucky had a chance to continue. ''Alan's
been having some---problems---lately. It has nothing to do with you,''
he said as he opened the door for Lucky.
''If you
say so,'' Lucky said, but there was doubt in his eyes. He left the penthouse
and Jason was alone with Michael again. He stared at him silently
for a moment, then called the Quartermaines.
The Quartermaine mansion was filled
with the usual chaotic bickering when Jason rang the doorbell. Standing
on the front porch, he could already hear Edward's voice, telling Reginald
not to let "that vagrant" in. Jason waited impatiently for another moment,
then pounded on the door with his fist. The door swung open and he was
greeted by a sweaty, but smiling, Reginald.
"I had to wrestle
him to get to the door," he said, looking over his shoulder at Edward,
who was sprawled awkwardly on the floor behind him.
"Humph," Edward said,
standing up and brushing himself off. "I don't see where you get off knocking
poor old men down."
"You have to be knocked
down just to shut you up, old man," Jason snapped. "Where's Monica?"
"Where do you think
she is?" Edward responded. "She's in there," he said, indicating
the living room with one crooked finger, "crying over her runaway daughter."
Jason shook his head
and pushed past Edward into the living room. Monica was sitting on the
sofa, staring blankly at the television screen in front of her. "Monica,"
Jason said softly as he entered.
"Oh, hello Jason,"
Monica said, standing to greet him. "I take you know what happened here."
Jason nodded. "Lucky
stopped by and told me a little while ago."
"Did he tell you everything?"
"I don't think so,"
Jason responded. "He seems to think it was partly his fault. I don't think
he even knows about Alan's addiction."
"Yes, he does," Monica
disagreed. "He was here earlier when Emily left."
"Whoa. Wait," Jason
interrupted, putting up a hand to stop her. "Lucky was HERE when Emily
ran away?"
Monica hitched in
a deep breath, then let it out raggedly. "She ran out of the house, Jason.
Faster than anyone could move to stop her. And then we heard a car engine."
Jason groaned and
sat in a chair beside the sofa. "She's in a CAR?"
Monica nodded, and
her face crumbled. "She's my last child, Jason. AJ is still here, yes,
but he's changed. He reminds me too much of your father now. And you---I've
lost you as well." She sank her face into her hands. "I never thought I'd
lose Emily too," she said through them.
Jason crossed the
room to her and took her in his arms. It was the first time he had embraced
her in months. "Everything's going to be okay," he said reassuringly, lightly
stroking her hair. He pulled away form her a little, and cupped her chin
with his hand. "I know I said I wouldn't be a part of this family anymore,
but until you have Emily home safely I want to be here for you. And if
that means moving back into this---place---then I guess I'll do it." He
grimaced at the thought of sleeping under the same roof with Edward and
Alan, but looked at Monica sincerely.
"Would you?" Monica
asked, looking at him hopefully with her tear-streaked face. "Would you
really come home?"
"Only until we get
Emily back," he said quickly.
"Oh, thank you!" Monica
exclaimed, and hugged him tightly, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks.
Jason watched as Alan poured himself
another drink and sat in the armchair beside the couch. He sipped his drink
gingerly, then eyed Jason with bloodshot eyes. "Are you spying on us?"
he asked at last.
"Spying?" Jason asked
incredulously. "I wouldn't waste my time spying on you, Alan. I've seen
my share of drug addicts."
"Ha ha ha. Very funny.
And for your information, Jason, I am NOT an addict. I'm really beginning
to feel like a broken record. What will it take for you PEOPLE to understand?!"
Alan was shaking with rage.
Jason shook his head,
and stood. "You're to much even to watch," he said, and left the room.
He ran into Reginald walking into the hall.
"Ah--Mr--"
"You can call me Jason."
Reginald looked relieved.
"Thank you. I always feel a little awkward."
"Yeah," Jason agreed.
"I get that a lot."
Reginald nodded and
looked past Jason into the living room. "Is he-"
"Yes," Jason said.
"He's all yours." He walked to the front door and slammed it open, then
stepped outside. He felt he would explode if he spent another minute in
the mansion. He shut the door behind him as quietly as possible, remembering
Lila sleeping upstairs. He stood on the porch for several minutes before
starting toward his car. Renaldo was leaning against the car, smoking a
cigarette. He put it out quickly as Jason approached.
"Mr. Morgan," he greeted
him and opened the car door.
"No," Jason said,
shaking his head. "I just have to get away from that inferno."
Renaldo smiled. "Is
Michael sleeping?" he asked casually.
Jason suppressed the
urge to laugh. Renaldo was usually very formal when addressing his employer,
but he always let his guard down when asking about Michael. "No, Monica
took him out. I think they were going to meet somebody for lunch. I want
her out of the house as much as possible," he said. "She doesn't need to
be here to worry about Emily."
"Neither do you,"
Renaldo said simply, then looked away, embarrassed.
"It's okay," Jason
assured him. "You don't have to agree with everything I say. I need someone
to disagree with with Robin gone."
Renaldo only nodded.
"I hate to see them REALLY make you brain damaged," he said, nodding slightly
in the direction of the mansion. Jason stared at him for a moment, then
burst out laughing.
Elizabeth set a stack
of plates down carefully, and smiled warmly at the customer. "Haven't seen
you around for a while," she remarked cheerfully.
"I haven't BEEN around,"
the customer said and leaned forward slightly. "I missed you," he said
and planted a kiss on her nose.
"Lucky!" Elizabeth
shouted in mock outrage. Several customers looked up, a couple of them
smiling. "Ruby would have a fit."
"Nah," Lucky said,
leaning back again. "Ruby ain't that bad." His expression turned serious
again. "Did you hear about Emily?"
"You mean that she
ran away?" Elizabeth asked. Lucky nodded. ""Yeah, it's all around school."
Lucky made a strangled
noise in his throat, and shot a disgusted look over his shoulder at a table
of giggling girls. "Can't anyone keep their mouths shut?" he asked angrily.
"Oh come on, Lucky.
They aren't the ones who started it."
"Yeah, but I bet I
bet they helped spread it." To Elizabeth's horror, he stood up and walked
to the table. She threw down the towel she was holding and ran after him.
"Hey," Lucky said to the girls.
They looked up at
him, and one of them stifled a laugh with her napkin. "We're a little crowded,"
she said apologetically. "Sorry. I'm sure they need a little company, though,"
she added, indicating a table with two older men.
Lucky leaned toward
the girl and smiled bitterly. "Why don't you go join them, then?"
The girl stared back
at him, her mouth hanging open. She looked at her companions with her head
held high. "Maybe we should go to the Outback," she said in her snottiest
tone. "This place is starting to stink." They got up as a group and left
Kelly's. Lucky laughed at their retreating backs.
"I bet no one's sorry
to see them go." Elizabeth gasped and walked back to the counter.
"You can be so awful
sometimes, Lucky," she said. He looked surprised. "They don't even know
what they did to upset you."
"Their very EXISTENCE
upsets me," Lucky said as he sat across from her. "They have no right to
slander Emily. No matter WHAT they think she's done."
"THEY didn't say anything,"
Elizabeth cried.
"You don't that!"
Lucky snapped, then turned his head away. "You just don't understand,"
he said under his breath.
Elizabeth obviously
heard him. "I don't understand what, Lucky? That you're acting like a total
jerk?"
Lucky drew back as
if he had been stung. "Emily was my best friend," he said defensively.
"I treated her like crap and now she won't have anything to do with me.
And who can blame her? I only ignored her for a year."
Elizabeth stared into
Lucky's eyes, trying to fathom what he was so miserable about. He seemed
to be blaming Emily's disappearance on himself. "Lucky," she said at last.
"Emily didn't run away because of you. Sure, she's upset about the way
you've treated her, but that's not enough to make her do this. I mean,
LOOK at her family life."
Lucky sighed, and
took Elizabeth's hand in his. "You've been through a lot more," he said,
smiling sadly.
"But I had you there
to help me through it," Elizabeth said soothingly, squeezing his hand.
"Exactly," Lucky said,
pulling away from her. "And Emily didn't. All she needed was a friend,
but even that was too much for me." He stared down at his hands miserably,
then stood and left before Elizabeth even had a chance to call him back.
Emily sat beside the
window on the bus, looking out. She loved the way the sun sparkled on the
water, casting white light over the tiny ripples and waves. She sighed,
and continued to stare out at the ocean, content with the simplicity of
its movements. She looked toward the sky and noticed with some shock that
the sun was high in the sky. It seemed like she had only just boarded the
bus, but that had been at dawn. It had to be at least noon now. She looked
at her watch and was even more surprised to discover it was actually past
one.
She shook her head,
wondering where all the time had gone. She thought back over the last few
days, trying hard to forget the events of the night before when her car
had finally broke down. Well, not actually broke down, but run out of gas.
She had been so angry and terrified at being stranded in the middle of
nowhere that she had simply kicked the side of the car and abandoned it,
leaving it to be picked apart by whatever thieving vagabond came across
it first. She figured the CD player would go first, then the rest of the
stereo and maybe eventually the entire car. Californians were supposedly
the type to strip a car on the side of the road.
She had finally managed
to find the courage to hitch a ride, and had thumbed down a comfortable
station wagon. The driver had been pleasant enough, and thankfully, female,
so Emily had not been too worried about personal danger. She had been too
relieved to finally see another car on the nearly abandoned mountain freeway.
Now she leaned against
the window, staring out at the white crests of the waves on the Pacific
Ocean. She sighed again, and smiled. She felt more at peace than she had
in several years.
Emily ignored the red flashing hand
signal and hurried out into the intersection. She smiled as she reached
the other sidewalk and slowed her pace as she continued down the street.
She looked to either side, revelling in the warmth and light of the sun.
She finally stopped as she reached the small plaza containing the coffee
shop and book store. "Hello California," she said, flashing a quick smile.
A young man looked up at her as she passed, smiling broadly up at her.
She returned the smile.
Emily had never believed
any of the tales told to her about California being a place where dream
always came true, or anything remotely close to that, but her few hours
in the state had turned out to be the happiest moments of her life. Everything
seemed so perfect: the scenery, the people, the beach, the sun; everything.
She regretted the fact that this image would soon have to be shattered.
She walked into the
book store and was greeted by cool air conditioning and the faint smell
of coffee wafting down from the cafe upstairs. There was a long counter
on her left side with several cashiers lounging and waiting for customers.
She walked up to one, a thin blond woman who was drinking a steaming cup
of coffee. She smiled brightly as Emily walked up. "Excuse me," Emily said
politely. "I just came in here this morning on a bus. I was pretty exhausted,
so they kind of let me fall asleep in the station,' hse said with a wan
smile. "Anyway, I feel kind of stupid, but I was asleep when they announced
where we were and I'm a tiny bit lost." She looked a little shame faced.
THe cashier laughed.
"Oh, that's alright," she said after taking a smalll sip of coffee. "You
look like you've had a hard night. Actually you look like you've had a
lot of hard nights." She smiled slyly. "This town is a little sleepy anyway.
It isn't hard to miss it at all." She laughed again, as if there was something
secretly funny about the whole thing. She extended her hand to Emily, who
shook it firmly. "Welcome to San Luis Obispo," she said. "Hope you enjoy
your visit." She looked past Emily at a customer waiting somewhat impatiently
at the front of the line. "Sorry," she said, setting down her coffee. "Duty
calls."
Emily nodded and left
the cashier to do her work. She glanced around the book store, and after
a short moment, decided to check out the coffee shop across the way. She
stepped out of the store and walked the six feet or so to the coffee shop.
The shop wasn't too crowded, and the smell of chocolate and coffee was
almost overwhelmingly delicious. Emily breathed in deeply and heaved a
great sigh. This was already turning out to be a great day.
She ordered herself
a mocha coffee and sat at one of the tables overlooking the steps leading
down to the theaters below. She sipped at her coffee, and considered seeing
a movie or two later that weekend if her cash still held out. She looked
up as someone stopped at her table. "Hi," she said with a small smile.
The man who had stopped smiled back, showing two rows of unnaturally white
teeth.
"Mind if I join you?"
he asked pleasantly.
Emily glanced around
the room and noticed that there were no available tables. "Of course,"
she said, sliding her purse out of the way to make room for him. "I didn't
realize I was hogging the last table," she said apollogetically.
"That's alright,"
the man replied. "I was hoping for some company anyway." He paused, assessing
her with patient pale blue eyes. Emily found herself straing into his eyes,
almost lost in their beauty. She was startled when he spoke again. "So
what's a beautiful woman like you doing hanging out in a coffee shop by
yourself?"
Emily only stared
back at him, astonished. He had referred to her as a woman? She only smiled
and looked at him questioningly. "You didn't tell me your name," she prompted
him.
"Oh, excuse me," he
said, laughing. "How terribly rude of me. Here I ma sharing your table
and I odn't even bother to introduce myself." He reached out to shake her
hand. "I'm Gregory Powers. Please just call me just call me Greg."
Emily shook his hand.
"I'm Emily." She paused briefly. "Emily Bowen, and you can just call me
Emily."
Greg laughed, his
eyes sparkling. Emily found herself falling into their deep blue depths
once again. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Emily," he said fondly.
Jason lifted Michael
out of his crib and cradled him in his arms. "Did you have a good nap?"
he asked and kissed him gently on the forehead.
"He certainly looks
happy to see you," a voice said from behind him. Jason turned around and
smiled.
"Hey Bobbie. Did you
come to see your grandson?"
Bobbie laughed. "I
most certainly did. I could hardly believe it when your guard told me that
you were staying HERE."
"Yeah," jason replied.
"I can hardly believe it myself. I don't want Monica alone in this big
house with her daughter missing."
"Alone?" Bobbie scoffed.
"It's impossible to be alone in this house."
"I'm not counting
Alan and Edward as human beings," Jason explained. "You have to have a
heart to be considered human in my book."
Bobbie frowned as
she took Michael in her arms. "They're not as bad as they seem."
"Don't Bobbie, okay?
Nothing you say is going to change my feelings about the Quartermaines.
I just flat out don't think like them."
"Well, that I believe,"
Bobbie said. "I really do wish you would at least give your father a chance
to explain his side of the story, though. My brother's current situation
with HIS son has really got me thinking about family relationships lately.
I'd just hate to see another family become as alienated as my brother's."
Jason nodded. "I appreciate
your concern, Bobbie. But I don't think it's really any of your business.
It's mine and Carly's."
Bobbie smiled slightly,
but tension came into her eyes at the mention of her daughter. "Do you
mind if I take Michael for a walk?" she asked. "Around the garden and the
pool?"
Jason waved his hand
dismissively. "Go ahead. Just make sure you bring him back," he added,
smiling.
"Well, I'll think
about," Bobbie said, laughing, then left the room.
Jason stood for a
moment after she left, then crossed the room to the fireplace. He noticed
a large picture in the middle of the mantle and touched his hand briefly
to it. The whole family was in the picture; Edward, Lila, Monica, Alan,
AJ, Ned, himself, and Emily. He smiled as he ran his fingers across Emily's
face on the glass. He turned away from the picture, uncomfortable with
the odd emotion looking at it caused. He walked to the couch and sank onto
it, then picked up a magazine off of the table.
He heard a nosie behind
him and jumped off the couch, whirling around. At first he thought the
noise had been some trick of his paranoia, then the figure stepped out
of the shadow of the plant, a foot or so from where he stood. Jason felt
a rising panic as the intruder raised a gun. "I thought I'd never get rid
of you, Quartermaine," a voice said, then Jason knew no more.
Jason awoke with a
splitting headache. He tried to sit up, only to
discover that he was tied down.
He pulled against the restraints with all
his might, but to no avail. The
roped were tied securely and would not
budge. He tired another tactic.
"Hey!" he called at the top of lungs. He
waited for a response, but got
none. "Hey!" he yelled again, but received
only silence in return. He muttered
angrily under his breath and lifted
his head to survey his surroundings.
He saw white walls,
and dusty furniture, and after a brief sweep with
his eyes, he realized he was in
a bedroom. He was tied to a bed, with his
arms in an awkward position, and
his hands tied to the head board. He
sighed heavily and looked around
the room once more. His eyes fell on a
computer sitting on a desk not
far from where he lay.
It was a laptop computer,
and a thin layer of dust on the cover
indicated that it had not been
used for several months. Realization hit
him like a ton of bricks. "Luke!"
he yelled, forcing as much air from his
lungs as he could muster. "Luke,
hey! I'm up here!"
Jason stopped yelling
and cursed himself for his own stupidity. No
wonder people thought he was brain
damaged. He chuckled slightly at that
thought, realizing that he actually
WAS brain damaged, but even THAT was
not an excuse for this unusual
display of idiocy. He fell back against
the bed, trying to think a way
out of this situation. He strained to lift
his head again, and saw the doorknob
start to turn. He turned his head
away, sure it had just been his
imagination, then looked up in time to
see Carly stride into the room.
Lucky opened the Brownstone's
door as quietly as possible, then
stepped into the living room. He
moved to turn on the light, but stopped
dead at the feel of cold steel
against his throat. "Don't move," his
captor whispered, and shuffled
over to the couch. He hastily turned on
the lamp, and the room was filled
with a faint ruddy glow.
Lucky gasped when
he saw the man's face. "No," he whispered, stepping
back involuntarily.
"Shut up, kid," the
man said gruffly, and pushed his blade against
Lucky's stomach.
Lucky stared at him,
his eyes wide. His hands startled to tremble and
he hid them behind his back. He
tried without much success to keep his
voice steady as he said, "It can't
be you."
"What's it take to
convince you kid? I could prove it to you, but that
would require you touching me.
And trust me, you don't want to touch me
now or you'll have six inches of
steel in your gut."
Lucky felt anger rising
inside him. "My dad killed you," he snarled.
"He told me himself."
"Here's a clue kid,"
the man said. He spoke slowly and deliberately.
"YOUR DAD LIED."
Lucky felt his stomach
clench. The blade pushed harder against his
shirt, and he flinched. The man
noticed this and chuckled. "What's the
matter, kid? This getting a little
uncomfortable?" He thrust his hand
forward and the blade sank in deeply.
Lucky screamed in
pain and clutched the knife before his attacker
could push the blade in further.
"What was that for?" he gasped. His
knees buckled and he slid to the
ground in front of the man.
"I want my money,"
the man growled, and picked Lucky up by the collar
of his shirt. He held him so that
his face was only inches away and
practically spat his words out.
"I want the money you cheated me out of."
"That was two and
a half years ago!" Lucky said, then winced in pain.
"Come on, Harper. Why don't you
just let it go?"
"You and your lousy
father cheated me out of ten thousand bucks!"
Harper shouted, shaking him roughly.
Lucky stared at him
in shock, his senses dulled by the haze of pain
and confusion he felt. "You're
coming with me," Harper snarled and hauled
him to his feet. Lucky lurched
forward a step, then pitched forward,
unconscious.
"Carly!" Jason cried,
shocked. "What are you doing here?"
"I'll explain later,"
she said and hastily started to untie him.
"Hold on," Jason said
once he was untied. He sat up and started to rub
his numb wrists. "Why aren't you
at the hospital?"
"I said I'd explain
it later," Carly said, irritated. "Now come on. We
have to get out of here."
"I don't think so,"
Harper said, entering the room. He was dragging
Lucky Spencer behind him. "You'll
spoil my whole plan," he said, and
lifted a gun to Carly's head. "And
I don't think you want to do that."
Jason knelt over Lucky's still
form, feeling only a faint pulse. "He's lost a lot of blood," he said to
Carly. "He needs a hospital."
"So do you," Carly
said. "I hit you pretty hard."
"That was you?" Jason
asked, glancing up at her. "What did you hit me with, anyway. My head is
killing me."
Carly shrugged. "A
gun."
"A gun?!" Jason exclaimed.
"You could have killed me!"
"Well, I didn't!"
Carly snapped. "Stop worrying about it. What are we going to do about Harper?"
"I don't know," Jason
responded, covering Lucky with his jacket. "You're the one who got us into
this in the first place." He looked around the room and shook his head.
"Where are we anyway? I know this is Luke's house."
Carly nodded. "We're
in Lucky's room," she said.
"Can we be expecting
Luke or Laura soon?" Jason asked hopefully.
Carly only laughed.
"Yeah, Jason. We went to all this trouble to kidnap you just to bring you
to a house and get caught by Luke Spencer." She waited for a response from
Jason, but got none. "They went to North Carolina," she said finally. "After
getting a message about Leslie."
"Sent by you?"
"You got it, bud,"
Carly said and knelt beside him. "Is he going to be okay?" she asked, touching
Lucky's chest gently.
"Not if we don't get
him to a hospital," Jason replied. "And soon. He's already lost too much
blood."
"So what can we do
for him?"
"YOU can get out of
my way so I can cut open his shirt." Jason reached into his back pocket
and was relieved to find his knife was still there. He tore a small slit
in Lucky's shirt, then ripped it the rest of the way open. "So how did
you get involved in this?" Jason asked without looking up.
"Harper put a gun
to my head and threatened to blow my brains away," Carly answered, moving
to sit with her back against the bed. "I didn't have much choice but to
do what he said."
"You coul've run,"
Jason said.
"I was in a hospital
room, Jason," Carly explained.
"Oh." He looked up
from Lucky and locked eyes with her. "How did you get out of the hospital?"
he asked.
"You're just full
of questions, aren't you? To tell you the truth, I don't know. I'd say
it was Harper, but I really don't think it was." Jason looked to her for
an explanation. "He came in with the gun and everything, and I think he
was going to break me out. Then a doctor came in and said that there was
someone was there to pick me up, and that I was free to go. I thought it
would be you."
"But it wasn't," Jason
said.
"No," Carly agreed.
"It wasn't. Harper put the gun in his pocket, and 'helped' me out. Another
man met us outside, but Harper didn't seem to recognize him. He took him
aside and they argued over something, then Harper hit the guy and came
to get me and took me to a car." She shook her head slowly. "I don't know
who it was that came, Jason, but I have a feeling if they hadn't I'd still
be in that prison."
"You don't think Harper
could've gotten you out?"
"No," Carly scoffed.
"That man couldn't find his way out of a paper bag."
Jason laughed and
stood up. "I don't think there's anything else we can do for him," he said.
"We'd better hope Harper gets what he wants soon, or Lucky's not going
to make it."
Carly looked at her
cousin sadly, then turned again to Jason. "I guess you heard about your
sister."
Emily laughed as she
and Greg left the movie theater. "That was hilarious," she said, and threw
her empty candy box in the trash.
"Yeah," Greg agreed.
"It was a real knock out."
Emily raised her eyebrows
and burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" Greg asked her innocently.
"Oh nothing," she
responded, still smiling.
They crossed the street
to the parking garage and took the elevator up to the third level. "Parking's
a bitch," Greg said, and Emily couldn't help but laugh again. The day was
so perfect; everything suddenly seemed bright, and absolutely hilarious,
to her.
"I think you've had
too much coffee," Greg said, bringing more laughter from Emily.
"Stop it, Greg," Emily
said and forced herself to stop laughing. She knew she sounded like a girl
when she laughed. "I'm sorry," she said after she had composed herself.
"For what?" Greg questioned.
"For lying about my
age," Emily responded.
"You didn't lie. I
thought you were older, there's no harm in that."
"I still shoul've
told you the truth," she insisted.
"It's alright," Greg
said. "I'm only twenty-two. I know that sounds ancient to you, but it's
really not. I can still let loose and have fun every once in a while."
Emily smiled, then
followed him as he headed toward his car. "This place is deserted," she
noted, then felt a hand close over her mouth.
"Shh," Greg said as
she started to squeal. "Just be quiet and get in the car."
He shoved her inside,
then climbed in the seat beside her. He slammed the door behind him and
Emily heard the doors lock. She screamed. "Shut up!" Greg yelled and back-handed
her across the face. Emily's hand flew up to touch her face where he had
hit her, and she watched with wide eyes as a window slid down and a man
turned to face them.
"Ready to go?" the
dark-clad man asked.
Greg nodded. "You
know where to go," he said. The driver nodded and the window slid shut
again. He stroked Emily's reddened cheek and spoke to her in a low, soothing
tone. "You're mine now, angel," he said and the car sped away.