Like a Criminal

[Wicked]

(My first, and only, complete Fanfiction. Based on the soap opera General Hospital, but you can pretty much read it and understand what's going on without having watched the show. I think. Enjoy!

Just the first five chapters for now! There are fifteen in all.)

Chapter 1:

Everything was perfect.

Sighing, but feeling accomplished and proud, Samantha McCall took a step back to admire the end result of her exhausting four hour endeavor. She ran a hand through her thick black hair, pushing it back and away from her expressive hazel eyes only to have it fall instinctively back. A grin crawled across the small yet strong features of her face as she cast a sweeping glance across the living room.

The Penthouse had never looked more beautiful. Candles placed systematically around the room were the only lighting source, but cast a powerful enough glow to bathe the room in a soft flickering orange warmth. The center table was set for the perfect romantic dinner for two: nice plates and silverware arranged just as the book dictated, champagne glasses with a bottle on ice nearby, even cloth napkins neatly folded in a triangle. The works.

It was all wonderful. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Jason’s face when he came home to see it, but what really made her chest swell with excitement and pride was the delicious smell that was slowly seeping from the kitchen. It was not the smell of a phoned in dinner. It did not belong to pre-prepared food picked up from Kelly’s or the Metro Court or any other restaurant in town. Sam had spent a majority of her day at the oven, and this scent was only part of the fruits of her labor.

Sam was notorious for her inability to cook. Her culinary excursion today was a triumph, made even sweeter by the thought that Jason knew exactly how inept she was and would truly appreciate how utterly amazing it was that the kitchen was not on fire, and neither was the food.

Laughing to herself, she looked at her watch. Two-twenty. He would be home at five. That left her two and a half hours to get ready. She drew in a deep breath to stay her excitement, and then climbed the stairs in three bounds to get to the bedroom. A quick shower, the evening dress already waiting for her on the bed, and then all she had to do was fix her hair and contain herself in an orderly fashion until he arrived.

That last part was a daunting order.

The water was hot against her skin as she stepped into the shower, pulling the glass door closed behind her. She let the thick steam billow around her as she stood under the cascade, letting her body grow accustomed to the sudden exposure to heat before moving to grab her loofa. Her skin was alive with electric responses. Each drop of water stimulated a spark against her body that caused her to shudder. Her anticipation towards the night ahead was projecting itself into her very being, and the stream of warm water falling around her, usually something she could relax with, did nothing but excite her.

She closed her eyes, letting her hands work instinctively with the soap and sponge to get a lather going.

How was he going to respond to all of this? As devastatingly handsome and sweet as he was, and no matter how much in love they were, when ever they tried to be romantic together something always went wrong. Be it the weather, the circumstance, an interruption or something more devious, they had not managed to pull off many private, special moments together. Tonight had to be different. It all seemed too perfect to be ruined by anything.

Smiling, she let her mind drift to the notes she had left for her lover to follow. It was a silly, playful touch that he would probably only begrudgingly follow, but to Sam it added to the fun.

The first one was on the doorway. A small, blue index card taped to the front door. It said ‘Don’t turn on the lights’. She had made sure he would recognize it as her being goofy rather than some sort of grotesque threat or something. In his line of work nothing was impossible, and she certainly didn’t want to scare him or get him on edge.

The next one was sitting on the desk next to the door. She had built a small little altar around it with flowers and a candle. If he missed it it would be because he was an idiot, not because she hadn’t put it in painfully obvious sight. Grinning, she imagined his face as he read it. This one was a letter on aged paper, folded into an envelope that was sealed with a kiss. Tacky, sure, but effective. Out of all her endeavors that night, writing this note had been one of the hardest. She wasn’t blessed with extraordinary poetic prowess. In all truth, her literary ability was sub par at best.

Finding the right words to tell him just how much she loved him was hard. After fourteen separate attempts she still wasn’t sure she had it just right. Maybe she would rewrite it after her shower, if she had the time.

The shampoo in her hair ran down her cheeks, threatening to sting her eyes if she continued to space out. Tilting her head back, she let the lightly perfumed shampoo rinse from her hair, an effective solution.

The next note was on the table. It said:

“Jason. If you’re home on time than you have an hour before dinner is ready. Come find me.

I’m waiting for you.”

Sam grinned. Shaking her head and making sure the last of the shampoo was out of her hair and her body was cleansed of soap, she shut off the water and stepped into the bathroom, warm water dripping from her thick hair like rain trapped in the boughs of trees. She grabbed the nearby towels, wrapping one around her slender frame and the other into a makeshift turban around her head.

As she entered the bedroom she couldn’t help but bite her lip and giggle to herself. The dress was waiting patiently on her bed. She knew she would look stunning in it, which was why she had bought it earlier that day. It was the inspiration for the whole night. She was simply passing the store when she saw it in her peripheral vision on a rack inside. The rest was fate. The right size. On sale. She had to have it.

She remembered thinking, as if trying in vain to dissuade herself, if I get that, where the hell would I wear it? The idea for the night had come together seamlessly after that.

Toweling off and slipping into panties and a black, strapless bra, Sam picked up the dress and danced with it in a swirling step as she made her way to the mirror. Standing there, with the dress draping down in front of her and her hair still trapped in the messy wrap on her head, she felt beautiful. She knew it wasn’t because of the clothes. Jason made her feel beautiful. He made her feel safe, and loved, and wanted. He was her lifeline, and more than that, he was her life.

Feeling lighter than she thought possible without the aid of some illegal substance, Sam slipped into the black dress, unable to resist its call any longer. She still had to fix her hair and makeup, but she had to see what it looked like on her, in the comfort of her bedroom.

It fitted her as if it had been sown around her frame. All the subtle, dangerous curves of her body were highlighted. It had a simple front, a low neckline that accentuated rather than insulted her large breasts, and thin straps over the shoulders. The back was far more intricate, the lace dancing in a criss-cross pattern down her back, exposing her skin from shoulder blades to the top of her tail bone. The skirt reached her ankles, with a sexy slit up the right side that touched her hip, leaving her soft, smooth legs cleverly displayed.

Pulling the towel from her head, she let the damp waves of her hair fall around her shoulders. Even without make-up and the hairstyle she had in mind she felt exotic. Her heart began to race at the thought of Jason’s face when he came home to her, following the notes to find her waiting for him in the bedroom.

She pulled herself away from the mirror and swayed with euphorically unsure steps to the vanity. She didn’t know how she was going to do an acceptable job on her make up when she was shaking so badly. The safest thing to do was work on her hair until she relaxed a little. Pausing as she plugged in the hair drier, her breath caught in her throat. She thought she had heard a noise. There was no way Jason would come home this early. She stayed completely still, fearing to breathe, for a full three minutes before allowing herself to turn on the hair drier. It’s your nerves acting up, that’s all.

There’s no one downstairs.

[Wicked]

Chapter 2:

Don’t turn on the lights.

He grinned at the note on the door. She was playing some sort of game with him, which was cute. He felt a familiar impulse run through his body. It was the power she held over him. Even seeing her hand writing, her name scribbled on the bottom of the paper, was enough to excite him in numerous ways. He reached up and touched the words, as if he could somehow feel the essence of the soft hands that had put them there.

Slowly, he pushed the door open, peering into the dimly lit room carefully before entering. She wasn’t waiting for him on the sofa, as he had been expecting. Slightly disappointed, but fiercely compelled, he closed the door with the same careful slowness as when he had entered. It barely made a sound as it clicked into place. He turned the lock and then straightened up, his eyes absorbing all the work she had done.

On the desk sitting against the wall just beyond the door there was a note in an envelope framed by flowers and a candle. He raised his hand to look at it, then hesitated. It was painfully obvious that this was an important letter, something that would affect him deeply. He would hold off on reading it until he had taken a better look around. Smiling to himself, he turned to the living area.

The candles were a nice touch. They were beautiful and the light was perfect. It was as if the Pent House had been completely redesigned. As the warm orange glow seeped across the furniture and spilled over the floor and ceiling the room seemed to expand, as if the walls wanted to give the romantic dinner setting on the table as much privacy as possible. She had rearranged the décor for just an affect, but he doubted she realized how powerful the result had turned out.

He drew a deep breath. The scent of melting candle wax and wisps of smoke paled in comparison to the fragrance billowing from the kitchen. It was incredible, and he almost couldn’t believe his Sam had managed it. He would have to ask her about that later, when this little game was over. Mind cloudy with almost too much sensory pleasure, he crossed to the window and relit one of the candles. The draft seeping in around the sides had blown it out.

That done, he moved over to the table and picked up the note that was sitting on top of one of the plates. Above him the purr of a hair drier filtered through the ceiling. Slightly distracted, he unfolded the note carefully, holding it as if it would crumble if he wasn’t careful, his fingers on the top and bottom corners.

Jason. If you’re home on time than you have an hour before dinner is ready. Come find me.

I’m waiting for you.

He couldn’t help but grin at the note. She certainly had planned things out. That was one of the innumerable things about her that intoxicated him. She was smart. Not just book smart, or street smart, but clever. He felt like she could keep up with him, which was a rare trait to find in anyone these days. He wasn’t blowing his own horn, or at least he didn’t mean to; he just understood that he was good at his job, and that meant he was a shrewd business man. If he had to come up with some sort of plan to get what he needed he could, no problem. Sam was the same way.

He liked that about her.

Refolding the note and placing it back on the plate, he decided now was as good a time as any to read the note he had skipped. He went to the desk, picking up one of the flowers and turning it over delicately in his hand. The petals were soft and luscious, the flower small and strong. It was as if she had picked the flower most akin to her own being. It made him yearn for her to an almost painful degree. He didn’t want to wait, already knowing where she was waiting for him and dying to meet her there.

He couldn’t jump the gun. He knew she had put more than her fair share of thought and effort into this evening game, and it was only fair for him to do the same. It would take him only a few minutes to read the card, and then he would be up the stairs and in the master bedroom. His heart beat against his rib cage as if it were trying to burst through, violently filling his ears with the pulse of his passion for her.

Hands trembling in a mixture of excitement and erotic ecstasy, he picked up the envelope and turned it over. A kiss stared up at him, bright red against the dull paper. He raised it to his lips, inhaling the scent of her lips. It was almost too much. It took more will power than he realized to open the envelope and remove the letter without ripping it to shreds.

He opened the age paper and let his eyes travel down the lyrical, sincere words of love and devotion Sam had written for the one man she truly loved. It was almost a full page of small, impressively neat writing. She had taken her time with this, and had done her best to make it perfect. He could feel her in every word, and it made his stomach tighten with envy.

All these words. The loving care she had taken in setting up the whole night, the use of those spectacular wits and spunk that had him completely addicted to her: it was all for him. Jason Morgan. The man she was more than willing, as the letter described, to spend the rest of her life with. To bear children for. In whose arms she would gladly die. It made him jealous in a way he didn’t understand, his mind blackening with torturous thoughts. He didn’t love her, that he knew, but he hated Jason.

She was his Sweetness, and yet he could have no fun with her because Jason Morgan was always on the look out. Except, delightfully, today.

He pulled a pen from his pocket and quickly added his own paragraph to the end of the letter, his script looking crude and vicious compared to hers. It was the perfect counterpoint. He returned the letter to the envelope and resealed it the best he could. Jason wouldn’t notice at first that it had been opened, but after seeing those final words he would recheck. But let him, by then it wouldn’t matter.

Manny Ruiz was not the type of man who left incriminating clues behind haphazardly. He knew what he wanted Jason to find, what he wanted him to think. This game of Sam’s, while a surprise, was perfect for him. It made his own fun a thousand times more entertaining and, ultimately, malicious. Neither Jason nor Sam could possibly realize how much pain was waiting for them in the coming days. Only Manny, the ever devious business man that he was, could truly appreciate the intricacies of his plan as it fell together seamlessly before him.

It was quiet upstairs now, which meant his prey was now settling herself in for the wait for her fiancé. He chuckled to himself and took to the stairs, climbing them silently, each step mounted with calculated precision as he ascended towards his ultimate goal. His imagine ran away with him for a moment as he thought about her reaction. Gun in hand, he paused at the top of the steps and drew a deep, wonderful breath. He stared at the door to the bedroom, left slightly ajar, and tried his hardest to calm himself.

His excitement peaked and raged dangerously, his passion and intent mixing into one throbbing sensation that threatened to overwhelm his senses. He moved carefully to the door and eased it open with one hand, the other aiming the gun.

She was devastatingly striking as she turned in surprise to see him. The dress, the hair, the make up, the eyes: everything down to the excited aura around her. Manny felt like he was going to explode, and his rationale was lost. He leapt at her, like a beast on an unwitting meal, and crashed on top of her to the bed. His mouth covered hers, his tongue choking her screams. She struggled beneath him, kicking and batting her arms against him with all her strength, but he had the advantage of size and surprise. He overpowered her completely, and for a moment almost lost himself to his desire.

He covered her mouth with his tattooed hand and pulled back, grinning down at her, the lust and sadistic intentions in his eyes glistening like the candles downstairs. Sam was now perfectly still beneath him, her chest heaving as fight gave way to flight. Terror set in, and desperation began to drive her thoughts. He could see how badly she wanted to get to the drawer by the bedside, her eyes wandering and giving her away. There was a gun there, he was sure. He had her securely pinned under his weight, so he didn’t worry.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it Sweetness?” He cooed, reaching into the pocket of his thick leather jacket and pulling out a capped medical syringe. The sight of it caused Sam to renew and redouble her escape efforts. Manny laughed at the fear and disorientation that crossed her fine features. He could almost hear her thoughts as he pulled the cap from the needle and checked the amount of liquid inside the vial.

He stuck the needle into her neck, almost cringing as she reacted. Her body pulled in one last dire attempt to wrench her lithe frame free, to no avail. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes shut tight against the injection. She moaned into his hand, begging him in muffled tones to stop, to let her go. He grinned at her, taking her strained face into his hands and forcing her to look at him, wanting his utter glee to be the last thing she saw before the anesthesia took affect.

Everything was perfect.

[Wicked]

Chapter 3:

Fifteen minutes crept by without an answer. The District Attorney didn’t know why she was waiting, considering how many other things she had on her agenda today. Important things. Putting criminals behind bars and protecting the rights of the fair citizens of Port Charles important. Standing outside a Pent House door on the fifteenth floor of a building notorious for its criminal occupants didn’t rank high compared to the meeting with the mayor she was currently pretending to forget about.

She sighed heavily and rapped her knuckles fist the door again, feeling as if the skin on her knuckles was peeling with the veneer. On most days she would have just wandered away, figuring the couple on the other side were pulling their regular convenient disappearing act from the law. But today wasn’t like most days. For one, the playful sign on the door suggested that Sam, at least, was home and waiting. Then there was the noise she had heard inside after her first knock.

When she arrived she heard movement inside, which was quickly stifled after she knocked. Five minutes of knocking and calling later and the sounds had completely vanished. All Alexis Davis wanted was for Sam to open the door. She didn’t even need to go inside: their business could have been quick and painless. Done before Jason got home. But of course that was too difficult for Sam. She had inherited a stubborn streak that none could match, not even her own mother.

Alexis didn’t know if she only had herself to blame for it, or if Sam went and developed her obstinance on her own. Either way, it was now perfected to a level not even Alexis, known for her strength of will and defiant nature, could hope to defeat.

That didn’t mean she was just going to give up.

She kept up her vigilant knocking, calling persistently on her eldest daughter. She could just imagine Sam sitting inside, comfortably leaning back in the sofa with some sort of food or beverage to keep her content in hand, staring at the door with a slight smirk. The mother-daughter duo weren’t on good terms after Alexis accused and arrested Jason of a crime that he, in a one in a million fluke, hadn’t actually committed the week before. Not a word had been exchanged between the women since.

“Sam, really, this is childish and I have something important to discuss with you, okay?” She said, her voice teetering on the edge of defeat, “Just open the door: I’m not going to conduct business with you from out here.”

“What are you doing here?” A smooth, cold voice inquired from behind her. Alexis jumped at the sound, instantly recognizing it but taking no comfort in the fact. She turned to face Jason Morgan, opening her mouth in surprise before she had a reply. Jason moved past her impolitely, turning the key in the lock before noticing the note staring at him at perfect eye level. He read it, glanced furtively at Alexis and then pulled it from the door. He went inside with no intention of inviting her to follow.

She did anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she said, unable to hide the smile that lit up her face. She loved romance, and the room she was staring at certainly fell under that category, “I didn’t realize you had an evening planned…”

“We didn’t. This is all Sam…” He smiled vaguely, looking around. The letter waiting on the desk, framed in flowers with a candle sitting near by, did not escape his eye. Carefully picking it up, he opened the envelope and instantly become immersed in the words written there.

Alexis wandered towards the center table. She looked at the note resting there, her natural curiosity overcoming decorum without much of a battle. Grinning, she looked up at Jason, a comment about how cute this all was on her lips. The Enforcer’s expression, however, stopped her cold.

He looked as if he had just been punched, his eyes scanning and rescanning a specific part of the letter. His shoulders were tense, his forehead creased in a scary expression somewhere between loathing and fear. Alexis had seen him worried before, but this was something entirely new. He balled the paper in his fist suddenly, coming from his trance, and then charged up the stairs, dropping it carelessly in his wake.

Knowing better, but doing it anyway, Alexis recovered the letter, smoothing it out against her thigh before trying to read it. The first two thirds of the paper was written in a fine, albeit hurried script. She recognized Sam’s penmanship and, as she absorbed the words, her voice.

Jason-
I don’t really know how to say this, much less where to begin. I know you’re probably laughing, or at least giving this that smile of yours that is deeper in your eyes than on your face. Which is fine, because I love that smile. I think the easiest place to start is by saying that I love you completely. I’m so devoted to you, it’s hard for me to get through my day without seeing you at least once every hour. And I don’t care if it’s selfish to want to keep you with me all the time, but I know I can’t. So I think about you when you’re working, and sometimes I get these weird little ideas. Like tonight. I thought it would be romantic to surprise you and this is my best effort. So don’t tease me if something goes wrong. It’s really difficult to put love into words, so maybe tonight I can figure out some other way to let you know just how much you mean to me.
-Sam

Alexis chewed on her lip, noticing the stark change in handwriting at the bottom of the page. She continued to read with caution, dreading what was inevitably waiting.

Isn’t that sweet? You know, as sappy as it is, it almost works as a goodbye note. Which is good, because when I’m done with her she won’t be in any condition to write anything. Good luck finding her. Enjoy the rest of your night.
I know I will.

Alexis had to force herself to breath, her involuntary muscles shutting down unexpectedly as she reeled in shock. Her heart skipped more beats than she thought she could live through as a heavy hand, Jason’s, fell on her shoulder.

“How long were you outside?” He demanded, his voice dangerously edged, like a sheathed sword.

“Ten, fifteen minutes,” she shifted gears from Worried Parent to Professional Lawyer. Right now she needed rational thinking and the ability to focus, not blinding, mind numbing anxiety, “When I arrived I heard noises, but I thought it was just Sam moving around in here. When I knocked they stopped. Since we were fighting I assumed she was just being petulant and shutting me out.”

“You probably surprised him.” Jason turned thoughtfully, then went to the balcony door. It was unlocked and slightly ajar, but there was no sign of a struggle or of forced entry. It was like he had gone out this way, but had entered some other way. There was no way Sam would have opened the door for him, which meant he had surprised her.

“You know…?”

“Manny,” he said without hesitation as he returned to her, holding out his hand for the letter she was hugging tightly to her chest. She handed it over with a shake of her head, feeling battered and bewildered.

Jason drew a deep breath in through his teeth, his expression frozen. Though he looked absolutely serious and, ultimately, deadly, Alexis could feel how utterly useless he considered himself. He was blaming himself for not being here for her, for not killing Manny when all those chances had presented themselves. Alexis could relate. Sam’s words resonated within her, not just in her mind but echoing throughout her entire being. It was her fault Manny was not in jail, where he belonged. A servant of the state, successfully defending a man who killed not only for a living, but for the hell of it.

She knew she was even more of a monster than he was.

“Jason…” she began, her apology manifesting at the end of his name. She had no time to complete that sentence, however. Jason was in motioned before she had time to comprehend the urgency in his shout. His arms wrapped around her frame and pulled her close as they both crashed to the floor, his body acting as a shield to a threat she didn’t even know existed.

The room got hot. Blisteringly hot. There was an impossible sound, like a hundred claps of thunder erupting at once, and a light that was more than blinding. All sense was destroyed, time and consciousness imploding into each other. Then there was darkness and confusion.

And then there was nothing at all.

[Wicked]

Chapter 4:

This was the worst hangover she had ever experienced. She sat up and ran a hand through her thick, messy hair, pushing it back from her face. She looked around, each new sight surprising her more than the last. The last thing she could remember was Manny jabbing some sort of drug into her neck. If she was honest with herself she would admit that she hadn’t thought she’d be waking up from that. At least not in one piece.

As far as her own condition went she was marginally okay. Her head was threatening to split apart at her temples, her vision was blurry and the room seemed to spin around her, but beyond that she wasn’t in any pain. No new bruises or cuts. No pulled muscles or any other injury. She was shaking as she examined herself, her mind lost to what could have happened while she slept. Though she was glad, she couldn’t help but wonder why.

Manny had left her on a bed, the sheets pulled over her and the pillow comfortably fluffed under her head. When she sat up and the blankets fell away she discovered that she was still in her dress. She frowned, her nature getting the better of her as she thought how much of a waste all that effort was now.

The room was empty but for the bed, a bookshelf and a table devoid of any decorations. There was a window but, as Sam struggled to her feet and took careful, shaky steps towards it, she quickly noticed that it was locked and there was no way to open it. She stood looking out into a beautiful garden, then sun high in the sky and filtering down into the room with a majesty that seemed out of place with her circumstance.

A key in the door turned and Sam tensed, turned around a bit too quickly to see Manny walking in. He said something to someone behind him, then closed the door and looked at Sam. He was dressed in a fine silk shirt and a black suit jacket and pant. He tilted his head at her, grinning and nodding.

“So you’re finally awake. I didn’t think it would knock you out for that long. Still, made the transport easy.”

“Where am I?” Sam asked, hugging herself protectively and taking a step towards him, her eyes ablaze with defiance. He saw no fear there now, as he had when he captured her. It was a disappointment, but he knew he would be able to remedy that any time he wanted. He waved his hand dismissively.

“Knowing you you’ll probably be able to escape from this room at least once, and I’m not going to risk you getting to a phone by telling you where we are. But just enjoy yourself. Did you see the view? Beautiful.” He moved towards her, holding out his arms in a gesture she couldn’t recognize.

It made her retreat backwards, until she was against the wall, the window just beside her. Manny stood directly in front of her, supporting himself with his arms raised over both sides of her head. He smiled into her eyes, letting his nose brush hers until she jerked her head to the side.

“If you won’t tell me that, then at least tell me what you want,” Sam said, fixing her stare so that he saw she was not impressed. He tilted his head and let his cheek rest against hers as he spoke into her ear. She shuddered as his breath curled over her skin, his voice seeping into her mind like water through soil. She pulled her head to one side, but she couldn’t escape him. He moved his arm closer to compensate for this movement, effectively pinning her head in place.

“Don’t worry, Sweetness. I won’t hurt you. Not this time. Not yet. This time you’re just a guest. But don’t worry, you’ll have company.” He pulled away from her, leaving her breathlessly clinging to the wall, and went back to the door. He opened it and turned to block the opening, standing with his hands folded over his chest and his feet planted apart. He looked down and Sam followed his eyes.

There was no stopping the gasp that escaped her lips as she discovered Kristina huddled against Manny’s leg, gripping it for safety because she didn’t know any better. Tears stained her pale cheeks. Sam instantly fell to her knees, holding her arms open. Kristina ran to her, covering the short distance with surprising speed for so small a pair of legs, and threw herself into the embrace of her big sister, sheltering against her desperately. Sam held her close, kissing the top of her head. She glared up at their captor with renewed hatred, the corners of her lips curling in a snarl as her eyebrows met over her nose in the deepest scowl she could manage.

“You monster,” she could barely choke the words out, her throat burning with the desire to scream at him. She didn’t want to risk scaring the little girl even more. “What have you done?”

Manny raised his hands innocently, splaying his fingers apart as if to show he had no concealed weapons, “Don’t worry about her: she’s fine. I wouldn’t hurt a kid. At least, not today,” his face twisted into a malicious half-grin, a thick air of smug accomplishment settling over him, “can’t say the same about Ric, though.”

“What did you do to him? What are you planning to do with us?!” Her voice rising with each syllable, Kristina’s grip increasing with each word. Sam put her hands carefully on Kristina’s small shoulders and moved her away so that her big sister could confront the demon standing in the room with them. Kristina transferred her defensive hugging to the bed post.

“Relax. I already told you I won’t hurt you. This isn’t about you. It’s about your mom. I think she, and the rest of Port Charles, needs to see just how big a mistake it was to get me off those murder charges.”

“She saves you from a life time in prison: a life time you deserve, and you thank her by kidnapping her daughters? And then what? You’re going to kill us in front of her?” She took three strong steps toward him, stopping beside the bookshelf. He circled on her but she sidestepped into his path to keep him away from Kristina.

He bared his teeth at her, “No. Just one of you.”

Sam grabbed a book, the thickest she could see in one moment of a glance, and slammed it binding corner first against the side of his head. He reeled in surprise but did not go down, grabbing his gun from its holster under his jacket and smashing it in turn against her head. She crashed to the floor in a heap, bleeding from the new wound. Manny shook his head and frowned, rubbing his head. He bent to pick Sam up but Kristina, to his surprise, stopped him. She threw her small body protectively over Sam, crying and screaming for the monster to leave her alone.

Manny grinned.

Kristina drew a deep breath and screamed for her mother as Manny put his hand on her head.


Alexis shot up in the bed, the last images of her nightmare flashing before her eyes. She struggled for air, panting and grasping her chest. The material under her hand was unfamiliar, and when she looked down she found herself wearing a hospital gown. For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was, or what had happened, the echo of her daughter’s cry in her ears.

The door swung open and Jason appeared, looking worried but ready to take down whatever threat was making Alexis scream. He saw her sitting on the bed, caught her perplexed face and sighed. Seeing him triggered her memories. Sam going missing. The explosion.

“Jason, what’s going on?”

“Manny’s making moves against us. When he kidnapped Sam he left that bomb for us to let us know how serious he is about this. He knows it wasn’t strong enough to kill us, but he rigged it on a timer to surprise us because he knew when I was getting home from Sam’s notes.”

“Manny made a move against you. He left that bomb for you.” Alexis looked around the room for sign of her clothes. To her surprise they were waiting at the foot of the bed. She refused to believe she was letting herself get sucked into the dangerous life style of her newest daughter. Was this what it was going to be like? Constant danger and worry?

“No. He left it for us. I don’t know what made him think you would be there. It probably just played into his hands. Alexis… I have to tell you something.”

Alexis felt her heart miss a number of beats, her features dropping and the piercing scream of her daughter reverberating in her mind.

“Ric is here in the hospital. He’s unconscious, recovering from a severe beating. Mike found him outside of Kelly’s, left there as if he was meant to be found. He was coming back from picking up Kristina from Sonny’s…” Jason’s cold eyes softened for just a moment as they flickered to meet hers then dart away. Alexis began to shake her head, silently begging him to stop, “Kristina is missing.”

“No!” Alexis yelled forcefully, throwing off the then bed sheet and struggling to stand. Her head pounded in protest, almost deafeningly. She raised one hand in a half hearted attempt to stop it, the other reaching her clothes to change out of the hospital gown. She bit back the tears that threatened to blind her on top of everything else, her anger stirring in the pit of her stomach. “This is your life, Jason! Kristina isn’t supposed to be a part of it!”

“I’m not going to apologize,” Jason stood, going to the door and keeping his back to her, “I’m going to find Sam. And I’m going to find Kristina, because I’m sure they’re in the same place. You can either hate me and pout or help me find your daughters. Either way, it’s going to get done. But with your help it might go faster.”

He took the doorknob into his hand as he moved to exit the room but stopped when his cellphone rang in his pocket. He shut the door to let Alexis change as he answered the call silently, listening to what the man on the other end had to say. He frowned deeply, worry creasing his forehead for a split second before the door behind him was pulled open and Alexis appeared.

“What’s going on?” She ordered, knowing full well that the call was about her family.

“A DVD was sent to one of my men, Stan, from Manny. It’s addressed, though, to you.”

[Wicked]

Chapter 5:

He didn’t feel bad about knocking her out. Making her bleed. In fact, he loved the sight of her blood. If Kristina hadn’t been there he would have discovered how it tasted. But he could wait. He was a very patient person. There was a game to be played here, and he was in control of all the pieces. There was no time to deviate from the plan, even if it meant passing on a wonderful opportunity to torture the woman that captivated him.

The way he figured it, he would have her for a while yet. More chances would arise. He didn’t doubt it at all. The bubble of excitement in his stomach made him grin.

Moving away from the room, nodding at the three armed guards he left to protect the door itself and the two men stationed at either end of the hall, Manny made his way through the mansion to his personal temporary quarters. The room was grand and imposing, walls seeming to stretch to the skies and windows packed with a view that would make any king jealous. The room had very little real furniture, decorated with one large, canopied bed a cabinet and a bookshelf. There was a walk in closet, but it was near empty but for the provisions Manny brought with him in a duffle bag.

That didn’t mean the room was empty. Lining an entire side of the wall, seeping half way through the room almost up to the end of the bed, was a high tech work area. Years of patient building and materials acquisition culminated in this room, of which Manny was almost paternally proud. None of it was legitimately his, but that didn’t bother him in the least.

In fact, that just made it even more wonderful.

He took a seat in an absurdly comfortable rolling leather chair and pulled himself up to the largest of the three desks in the room. It stretched from one corner of the wall to the other, and housed over thirty video monitors flanking one large computer screen. Each monitor was set up with a code across the top and each displayed a different picture. This was his security center. He pulled out the keyboard from its hideaway and unlocked his computer, bringing up his favorite camera on the largest center screen. It showed the room he had just left.

Leaning back in his seat and putting his hands behind his head he took a moment to silently congratulate himself. So far there had been very few bumps in the road, and what did occur were easily smoothed over. He was more than amply prepared for the worst. And besides, it wouldn’t be any fun if everything worked out perfectly.

He let his glazed eyes fall on the screen, absorbing the movements of the little girl he left terrified with her unconscious sister. She had her tiny hands on Sam’s face, urging her through a waterfall of tears to wake up. She wouldn’t let her fingers anywhere near the blood that was caking where he had struck the older prisoner, her small frame clearly shaking even on the grainy color distorted display. The corner of Manny’s lip curled into a grotesque half-smirk.

Sam had dealt him a surprising blow with that book. She had managed to cut his eyebrow open, the slit a good inch long and deeper than he would have thought, considering how red the shoulder of his shirt on that side was. He didn’t bother to clean any of it up: he was a man that lived for theatrics.

Minutes passed slowly as he watched the room. Kristina was tugging on Sam’s arm now, desperate for her to get up. Sam responded, sitting up slowly, a hand to her head. It was clear that she was dazed and pained, her expression exquisitely agonized. He watched her lips as she spoke to Kristina, probably saying something optimistic and comforting: a lie. He preferred to watch rather than listen, keeping the sound cut from his visual feed. He had other men to monitor their conversation.

If Sam was to come up with an escape plan he highly doubted she would detail it to the young girl, anyway.

Drawing a deep, soothing breath, the cruel mobster rose from his seat and walked casually back to the room. It was an unexpected delay, but welcomed. Observation never hurt, and even the short time he spent watching the sisters provided him with new insight and inspired interesting twists if he bored of his approved plan. On his way he stopped into another room, ordering the man waiting inside to follow him. The lackey did as he was told, grabbing his heavy equipment as he went and not trying to look like he was struggling in front of his boss.

Manny knocked on the door politely before entering. When he opened the door he saw Sam standing in front of Kristina, her arm on the younger girl’s shoulder protectively. She was staring at him with nothing but hatred in her eyes, which excited him more than she could possibly comprehend. If he could he would drop his plans and have her, taking her however he pleased with no regard for the repercussions. But he couldn’t afford to. Not if he wanted this game to produce him as the winner.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better. In a better mood, I hope,” he drawled, crossing to them confidently as he waved over his shoulder for his man to follow him. The guy entered and set down the heavy tri-pod he was carrying, then slipped the bag from his shoulder and opened it. He produced a classy looking video camera, the DVD recorder clearly displayed on its side. It was high end, a theft to incite an ego.

Manny motioned that the girls take a seat on the bed. Kristina made to listen but Sam took her time, staring at him from underneath her scowl. He pointed again and she gave in, sitting on the bed and taking Kristina into her lap, holding her close. Never once did she take her eyes off of her captor.

The man affixed it to the tripod and removed the cap, a beep alerting the room that he had it turned on. Manny grinned and turned to look at the camera, standing close enough to it that he pretty much took up the entire screen. He grinned maliciously, clearing his throat.

“Congratulations on your promotion to DA, Alexis. You deserve it. I know how good a lawyer you are. Sorry to hear about Durant, though. What a way to go. Trapped like a rat, I hear,” Manny didn’t see Sam rolling her eyes behind him, “I don’t think I need to waste either of our time by beating around the bush. I think you and I both know why you’re watching this little movie, huh?”

Sam glanced around the room, her eyes inadvertently returning to the window. She didn’t know how high up they were, but he doubted Manny left this to chance. There was probably a bed of nails waiting on the floor below or something. But she had to find a way out. For Kristina’s sake.

Manny continued while Sam plotted her escape, “I bet you’re wondering where your little girls are, huh? You were pretty quick to get that last one of yours protected. I know who I have to thank for that, but not right now. Still, two out of three ain’t bad.” He took a step back and let the camera guy move to frame Sam and Kristina. Manny sat beside him, startling Sam, who found that she hadn’t been paying attention.

She couldn’t help but blush from embarrassment. This was a serious situation and she was spacing out? Somehow that didn’t surprise her. She didn’t think it would surprise Jason, either.

Manny, however, was amused. “Taking in the view, Sweetness?” He asked, his voice patronizingly soft.

“Yes. That was exactly what I was doing. Can’t hide anything from you,” She sighed, feeling strangely confident. She tilted her head at the camera and made a goofy face. She refrained from the typical ‘hi mom’, though, considering that to be bad taste. All she needed to do was show them that she wasn’t scared. That she was capable of taking care of herself, at least in the meantime.

Manny put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him, unable to resist. He was sitting on the side where he had hit her, and the glistening, fresh blood beckoned to him. He kissed her bruised and split skin, making her shiver. She wanted to shrink away, even if that meant crawling out of her skin. She clung to Kristina tightly.

“See, there’s no reason to worry,” Manny was saying to his invisible audience, “I’m taking good care of her. Sure, there’s some discipline issues, but what can I expect from someone raised away from her real mother, right? So, Alexis. The point.” He put his hand on Kristina’s head only to have it knocked away by Sam. He grinned at her, pulling her closer, “You have two lovely daughters here. But let’s face it, everyone has their favorites.”

He paused to let that sink in. He could just imagine the features of his victim dropping as she watched this footage, reveling in the misery he was on the brink of causing.

“So if you were faced with a choice, Miss DA, how would you pick? Which one of these beautiful girls would you like returned to you in two days? I’ll give you tonight to think about it. Oh, and Jason? Don’t bully her into sacrificing her Corinthos born. You both need to remember: the one you leave with me is mine.”

He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t have to. The camera man turned off the camera and removed the DVD. He slipped it into a case and handed it to his boss, who accepted it while he stood. He looked at Sam with a disapproving frown. She continued to scowl at him, unwilling to let him scare her.

The camera man packed up his things and exited the room wordlessly. Manny moved to the door behind him, stopping and looking back over his shoulder. His smirk was unmistakable as his fathomless eyes captured Sam’s stare.

“I wonder who Mommy Dearest is going to pick?”