Author's Note:
Another Brazen story for all you Jase/Brenda fans! This one is set back a bit, right at the beginning of the Alcazar murder triangle. Thank you for all the wonderful responses to my stories. I really appreciate all your input! I hope you enjoy!
~ * ~
"You are my angel
Come from way above
To bring me love
Her eyes
She's on the dark side
Neutralize
Every man in sight
To love you, love you, love you"
- "Angel," Massive Attack
~ * ~
For his entire life there hadn't been a person Jason Morgan couldn't walk away from. Not the woman who taught him to love, or the woman who taught him to hate, or the woman who taught about missed chances--he'd walked away from each of them and never looked back. It wasn't that it didn't hurt each time he left behind a woman he loved, because it did, sometimes so much he thought his carefully guarded heart would shatter, but he wasn't a man to obsess over what might have been. He accepted that life wasn't perfect and that people made mistakes, but he didn't spend his life living in the shadow of a past he couldn't change. Instead he pushed forward, hardened his heart, moved on with his life. He lived in a world of his own making without the trappings of tangled emotions and bitter passion. A cold world, but a practical one--he didn't have baggage to hold him back.
Not that he'd ever admit it, but there were some things, one in particular, that he couldn't escape. . .brown eyes. For as long as he could remember he'd been haunted by brown eyes. It was strange, the way he was drawn to brown eyes, not blue or green, but deep, dark brown. All the women he'd loved in his life had brown eyes: Robin's were gentle and soothing and full of comfort; Carly's flashed with a fiery temper and hidden vulnerability; and that last set--those brown eyes were full of things he didn't want, and more importantly, full of things he didn't understand, because for the life of him he couldn't understand how it was possible to love the same person you hate.
He hated her all right, hated her with a burning fury that made his vision cloud and his eyes see red. He hated the air she breathed, her beautiful face, the way she made his blood boil and his heart race. But mostly he hated her for making him weak.
He was Jason Morgan. He was hard and tough and made of steel. He was a mob enforcer, killed and threatened people for a living. He could stare into the cold barrel of a gun and not flinch; he could look into the eyes of a dying man and feel no guilt; he could push away those he loved and feel no pain. They said he was cold-blooded, that his veins ran with ice--he'd heard it all before and it was true--accept when it came to her.
It had been five years since her lips touched his and he could still feel the burn of her mouth and the sweetness of her tongue. He could remember the feel of her body in his arms, her hair brushing his cheeks. . .her lips molding to his. Sometimes, deep in the night, he'd lie in bed and bring her face to mind, remembering the way she'd looked when, for a brief moment, he'd made her his. Five years should have been a long time, but he could still feel that kiss today. He tried to forget but the harder he tried the more he remembered.
It has been a fluke, a mistake, but he could never forget that night. He'd tried, oh how he'd tried, drowned his sorrows in innocent beauties with personalities like sunshine and big blue eyes. Anything to avoid brown eyes--brown eyes and laughter and silken curves that begged for a man's hands to touch them. She was molten fire, hot and liquid and irresistible. He couldn't stay away from her, could never stay away from her. Even now, when he said he hated her, she called him back to her.
Walking into that church to break her heart--it had almost done him in. Holding her in his arms that night, feeling her shake with rage and pain and heartbreak, had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. The other night, when he'd told Courtney guarding her was better then a lot of jobs he'd done for Sonny, she'd thought he was referring to hits and beatings, but it was always Brenda. Because as much as he said he hated her, resented her, wanted her dead and gone at the bottom of the sea, it was all a lie.
~ * ~
They were joined in the sanctity of marriage--and the mutual desire to avoid jail time--but the reason didn't really matter. They were stuck with one another, bound by promises and words and two shining bands of gold. It had been weeks since he'd taken vows to keep her safe, but he couldn't get those words out of his mind. He'd never thought he'd ever get married, and never in a million years did he think it would be to her. Her brown eyes didn't belong to him. She was another man's woman, another man's drug, but by some cruel twist of fate, she'd ended up his.
They were playing a game, masquerading as man and wife, only the grand prize was their lives. Alexis said they had to act like they loved each other, "Pretend you're in love," she'd said, hiding a smile behind her hand. The expression on their faces had been a mix of dread and disgust, but the message was clear: they needed to look in love to stay alive. "You need to fool a jury," Alexis had told them. "They're the ones who decided your fate. You'll look better if they think you love each other. That means you need to get along, both in front of and behind closed doors." So now they lived together, ate together, even slept together. "This is a high-profile case. You never know where a reporter is hiding," she'd said over protests. "You two are adults. You can share a bed. What's more important, living with someone you hate or staying alive?" She'd left before they could give her an answer.
They'd stood together, watching each other awkwardly, thinking about their options but it wasn't a hard decision. Then, without a word spoken, they'd clasped hands and turned to the door. "You ready to do this?" he'd asked.
She'd nodded, gripped his hand a little harder. "It's not like we have a choice."
He'd squeezed her hand and together they'd walked out of the courthouse and into the lights and cameras and questions.
~ * ~
Now, playing the role of the devoted wife she laid on her side next to him, the sheets gathered around her slim hips, so small she barely made a dent in the covers. In so many ways she reminded him of a child, with her tiny frame and big, brown eyes, but Brenda Barrett was no child. She was a woman who knew men, knew how to love them, how to hate them, how to control them--how to make them lose control. Men reinvented themselves for her, lost themselves in her--and it terrified him.
He was a man who thrived on control, thrived on independence. No woman, no matter how much he loved her, could tell him what to do. That was why things had died with Robin, with Elizabeth, even with Carly. They couldn't handle the life he gave them and had wanted him to change--for them. But he was Jason Morgan. He didn't change for anyone, even if it meant losing the people he loved.
Sonny had once told him there were women men love and women men die for. Brenda was the kind of woman men would give their lives for. There was something about her, something that drew men in and made them want to change, want to be different--for her. Men became better with her, not because she asked them to, but because they wanted to. All she had to do was flutter her eyelashes and men came running. Brenda Barrett made men suffer, she made them weak--she made them hers.
But Jason didn't want to be one of those men--couldn't want to be one of those men. That was why he hated her, because she could make him weak too. If he let himself drown in her eyes, in the dream of a wife that loved him and only him, children that would never call another man daddy, he would be lost like all the others. And that was why he hated her, because given the chance, she could destroy him.
~ * ~
He couldn't remember the day, but he could remember the exact moment he'd seen her as more than Sonny's backstabbing lover. Long ago he'd sometimes found her watching him, her eyes wistful and nostalgic, her expression far away. When she'd see him watching her, noting the look in her eyes, she'd harden her face and steel her eyes. He'd once heard her tell Robin about it, how she'd remember the boy she could have loved, how she would look at Jason Morgan and see Jason Quartermaine's face, but none of his love, his compassion, none of his humanity.
* * * *
"It's so hard, Robin. Sometimes, when I look into his eyes, I see the man he used to be and it makes me sad. Once upon a time we were friends, you know? We cared about each other, maybe we even loved each other a little, but we were friends and his friendship meant everything to me. I could look into his eyes and know I would always find support and comfort there. But now. . .now I look into those eyes, and I tell myself they're that same clear blue, but I see a stranger. I see anger and pain and it makes me wonder what happened to that boy I once knew. Makes me think about what could have been if AJ hadn't wrapped him around a tree. Maybe it would have been him I fell in love with instead of Sonny."
* * * *
Robin brushed it off as the legacy of their old rivalry, but he'd taken Brenda's words to heart.
He never thought about Jason Quartermaine, the boy whose face he shared but whose life he couldn't remember and didn't want to recall. He'd spent all his known life chasing the ghost of the saint he'd used to be and cracked under the pressure. It was the only time he could ever remember crumbling. He hadn't been able to live by the expectations of people he didn't know, hadn't been able to recreate a love he couldn't remember, so he'd left and it had led him straight to Sonny--and to some extent her. Hearing her talk about the boy he'd used to be, the friend she missed, without the hero worship everyone else breathed into their memories, made Jason Quartermaine seem real, almost tangible. Being with her was the closest he ever felt to the boy who shared his face, but not his life.
It was hard to explain how he felt so close to her, a woman he didn't even like. After all, she was by no means perfect. She was selfish and spoiled, had a sharp tongue and razor sharp claws, and a way of pushing every button, even ones he didn't think he had. But she was stubborn and determined and when she loved, she loved with all her heart. He didn't have to remember her past with Sonny to know how much she'd loved him. He'd been there the night Sonny had set her free and she'd lost her mind instead. She'd stood at the altar, surrounded by everyone she loved, and waited for the man of her dreams to whisk her away. Only he never came.
He could still replay exactly what happened that night, still remember every minute detail. She'd looked more than beautiful, clad in a column of soft white, her hair falling around her shoulders, her face all lit up with love for her waiting prince. But it was her eyes that haunted him most. They'd been so shining, loving, expectant--so trusting. He'd pushed open the doors, watched as she'd turned to him, her dark hair falling from her face to reveal brown eyes so full of love and trust it made his hands shake and his mouth go dry. Seeing her stand there, so trusting of the man she loved and so naive to the coward he really was, for the first time he'd almost failed one of Sonny's orders. He'd known who his savior was, where his loyalties lay, and still he'd nearly crumbled. He'd still hated her then: for betraying Sonny, for playing with men's hearts, for having no concept of devotion or loyalty. Yet, in that brief moment when their eyes locked, none of that mattered. All he could think was he didn't want to be the one to cause the light to leave her eyes, the smile to disappear from her face, to be the one to shatter her heart--that thought of that had been almost too much for him to bear.
He wanted to be strong, to stand up to Sonny's order, but she made him weak and all was lost. He'd given in, delivered the news, and it had all gone red. The next thing he remembered was watching her stand before the open doors as the rain poured down. "He always leaves me standing in the rain," she'd whispered and turned to look in his eyes.
That's when he'd seen what he had feared: the confusion, distrust, despair. Her eyes were dead, her voice numb. She was a shadow of a person, a lost princess in a misty party dress, and in that moment everything changed. Suddenly he didn't care that she'd worn a wire to betray Sonny or nearly ruined his marriage to a good woman or played the role of the selfish party girl for too long. He didn't care about that anymore. All he saw was a woman who desperately loved a man that didn't deserve her, a woman who had everything anyone could ever want, yet was willing to give it up to be with the man she loved, a woman who trusted that man with every once of her being, only to discover everything she'd ever believed in was a lie. In his mind, whatever sins Brenda had committed in the past were absolved by her devotion at a man who abandoned her when she needed him most.
It had been awe inspiring to see the force, the intensity of her love. It even made him a little jealous of Sonny, to have a woman who loved him so much she'd risk her life to be with him.
He wanted that love for himself, that forever love that endured time and pain and mistakes. Even now, every time Sonny or Brenda looked at one another, he could see that same love in their eyes. In the years that followed he'd tried to create that same love, that unwavering devotion with the women in his life, but he could never get it just right. One by one they'd betrayed him for another man or ideal and he'd removed them from his life. Every time a woman betrayed him, when Robin told AJ the truth about Michael or Carly slept with Sonny, he thought back to that night in the church and the way Brenda changed his view of love.
It had been a turning point in his life, that night in the rain. He now knew that was when he'd fallen under her spell, figured out her secret. She was a woman born to love men with all her heart and that was what lured me to her: the chance to be a part of that love. He would know; he was one of them, only unlike all the others, he wasn't going to let her consume him. That was why he claimed to hate her, nearly convinced himself she was the devil incarnate, because if he didn't put up a barrier around his heart she would destroy him the way she had all the others before him.
~ * ~
She shifted in sleep beside him and one silky foot ran the length of his calf. He withheld a groan, forced back the memory of that brief moment every hot inch of her had been pressed against him. If he didn't forget, if he let himself hold onto a past that wouldn't repeat itself he'd be lost, because once she had him craving her, begging for crumbs of her affection, he'd be hers and that was something he was never going to let happen. He felt the covers lift, heard the bed creak as she moved, and felt the soft pads of her fingers curl over his shoulder.
"Jase?" she whispered. "You awake?" He ignored her, but she was persistent. "I know you're awake," she said in a singsong voice. "I heard your breathing change. You can't fool me." Jason groaned inwardly, wondering if she knew the reason his breathing quickened had nothing to do with sleep. Her fingers pressed harder into his shoulder, the nails digging into his skin.
"Oww!" he cried and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand off his shoulder.
She grinned impishly in the darkness. "You can let go now."
He released her hand like it burned. "What do you want?" he demanded.
"I can't sleep. Will you tell me a story?"
He stole a quick glance at the bedside clock. "Brenda, it's almost four in the morning, we have court tomorrow and you want me to tell you a bedtime story?"
"We're supposed to be well-rested for court--."
"That's my point."
"But I can't sleep," she continued. "Maybe a story will help."
"Why should I be tired tomorrow just because you're an insomniac?"
"Because I'll just toss and turn all night and keep you up anyway. Please, Jase. Pretty please?" She raised herself on one elbow and peered down at him. The strap of her nightgown slipped down one shoulder and her hair spilled around her face in a cloud of inky blackness. In the darkness of the room her features were softened by the moonlight, the sharper contours of age and maturity replaced by youthful curves. In the pale darkness she looked about eighteen, young and innocent and untouched by heartbreak. Watching her look at him, her black hair falling around her round face, he could see the girl Sonny fell in love with, even a hint of the woman Jax slew dragons for. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and laid a hand on his arm. "Please, Jase? Will you tell me a story?"
He could never say no to her. Why start now? "Okay," he relented. "What do you want to hear?"
To his surprise she plopped down next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. She usually avoided touching him at all costs, but something was obviously different about tonight. "Hmmn," she mused and laid a hand on his chest, pushing the anty further. "How 'bout a fairytale?"
"A fairytale."
"Uh-huh. You know, princesses and princes and far off castles. Just make something up."
"Give me some help," he said slowly, very conscious of the way her fingers drummed on his chest as she waited for him to start.
"Okay. . ." she drawled. "Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a beautiful princess named Brenda--."
"Original, Barrett. Very creative."
"Hey!" she squealed and lightly punched his shoulder. Again, he sucked in a breath as her skin came into contact with his. "This is my story so I can tell it however I want. Now it's your turn."
"Fine. Once upon a time--."
"In a far away land!"
"In a far away land there lived a beautiful princess named Brenda, married to an equally handsome prince named Jason, and they lived in a castle called Harborview Towers. They had a beautiful view of the river, an ugly sea crane, and--."
"Some really horrible neighbors the beautiful princess wanted to get rid of, namely the hideous chambermaid Carly,"
"Brenda," Jason warned. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep Carly out of this?"
Brenda sat up and looked down at him sternly. "First of all, married or not, you don't tell me what to do. Secondly, it's my story, remember?" The teasing note was back in her voice and she curled up against his side again. "Now, get back to the good stuff."
"So the prince and princess lived in the castle, and the princess spent most of her time depleting the prince's bank account and the prince spent most of his time chasing off the princess' suitors, who didn't seem to understand what she was married and off-limits. What should their names be?" She didn't respond, only buried her face into his shoulder. He could feel hot tears against his skin and he gently ran his fingers through her hair and raised her eyes to his. "Brenda?" he asked. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head, angrily brushing away the tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Jase," she whispered. "I'm so sorry I brought all of this on you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Having to marry me, being accused of murder. If only I was stronger, if I didn't have to see Sonny one last time before I died. . ." she trailed off as her voice choked on a sob. "I brought all of this on the people I love. All I wanted to do was protect them and all I did was bring them pain."
"Brenda. . ."
"No, Jason. Don't defend me. I chose Alcazar. I brought him to Port Charles. Don't tell me this isn't my fault."
She was crying in earnest now, huge tears rolling down her cheeks. He hated to see her cry, had always hated to see her cry. That was why he'd been so desperate to get her home the night at the church, not because he hated her the way he said he did, but because he'd known if she started crying he wouldn't be able to take it, and he couldn't let his guard slide around her, not if he wanted to come out alive. "Don't cry, Brenda," he whispered. "It will be okay." He pulled her to him and when she slid into the cradle of his arms for the first time it felt right, like she belonged there, like she was made to be there, like she was the only person with the right to hold him close. It was already starting, much more of this and she'd ruin him for other women, because he was convinced, as she tucked her head into the contours of his chest, that no other women would ever fit him so perfectly.
She laughed harshly through her tears. "You know, you almost have me believing you."
"Almost? I told you I'd fix this."
"I know, and that's the scary part. For as long as you've known me you've claimed to hate me, Jason, but you've never let me down. When we were trapped on the island after the ELQ jet crashed, you had a baby to get back to, but you stuck it out to get me home safely, a woman you hate. Or when I came back from the dead and you told me you'd take care of me for as long as I have left and even now, when I'm not dying, you're still taking care of me. Or even that night in the rain when Sonny ran out on me and you did everything I asked of you, even when it hurt you to do it."
He looked down at the bunched sheets, images of that night washing over his mind. "I broke your heart that night. What are you talking about?"
She turned to him and grasped his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Don't lie to me, Jason. You hated coming to the church that night. Don't deny it because I could see it in your eyes. Most of that night is a haze of pain, but I remember you clearly. I knew you hated me and everything I stood for, that you were probably happy Sonny was finally getting rid of me, but you still hated breaking my heart. It hurt you to cause me pain but you did it anyway. Now, after I've had years to think back on that night, I have to say thank you. You saved my life that night."
He pulled out of her grasp and looked towards the window, at the beams of moonlight peaking around the edges of the curtains. It was clear outside, nothing like the powerful fury they'd experienced five years earlier. "All I did was what Sonny told me to do," he said softly. "Don't make me out to be something I'm not."
"No," she insisted and forced him to look at her. "You knew that Sonny was too much of a coward to do it himself, or that if he had I wouldn't have believed him and would have searched to the end of the world looking for him. You ended that for me. You were the one to set me free and I'll never be able to repay you for that."
The conversation was getting too probing, too deep. If it kept going in the same direction she was going to figure it all out and it would be the end. He'd be another notch on Brenda Barrett's belt, another man she claimed to love but loved to control more. "You can repay me by going to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow."
She shook her head. "No, we're not done yet. Why do you do it, Jase? Why do you save me again and again when you claim to hate me?"
He made his voice cold and emotionless on purpose. "I follow orders, Brenda, and I'm good at what I do."
"No, there's more to it. You know, you're the only man I've ever met who hasn't let me down. Sometimes I think it's because underneath all the barriers you put up you love me, but then I remember that you're not Jason Quartermaine anymore and that it's impossible." He laid stock still beside her, barely breathing, hoping she'd end the conversation and go to sleep. He was on the verge of losing it completely. "Or is it?" she whispered. "Do you love me, Jason? Is that why you claim to hate me so much?"
"Love you?" he said with a forced laugh. "What makes you think that?"
"There's a thin light between love and hate," she said matter-of-factly. "Maybe that's what's going on between us," her voice was softer now, full of awe, as she discovered feelings he'd been struggling with for years.
He shot up in the bed beside her and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. "So now we love each other? Brenda, where is this coming from?"
"All my life I've depended on you, Jase, no matter which one you were. You've looked out for me, taken care of me, been my savior time and time again. You're honest with me. . .and I trust you completely. I've never been able to say that about anyone, not even Sonny or Jax. You don't have any hidden agendas or dead ex-wives or complexes about betrayal. You're good for me, Jason. I feel safe with you, at peace. If that's not love I don't know what is."
"What about compatibility? Passion? We don't have either of those."
She smiled coyly and ran a finger down his bare arm, her smile widening as he shivered under her touch. "I think we have a lot going in the passion department," she breathed in his ear. "And admit it, you like being around me. I make your life so much more interesting."
He couldn't disagree on that note. "But I don't love you, Brenda. And you don't really love me. You're scared about the future and I understand that, but don't create something that's not there."
She shook her head. "You are such a coward, Jason. As long as I've known you, you haven't been afraid of anything, not even losing the people you love most, but now you're running scared."
"You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know me, Brenda. You don't know a single thing about me."
"I knew Robin. I might have thought you were the worst thing to happen to her, but I knew you loved her in your own way. I see the way you look at Michael and I see the pain in your eyes when you have to let him go." Jason turned away as she dug deeper, touched on issues no one, not even Carly dared to mention, brought the most painful issues of his life to the surface and forced him to reflect on memories he'd long since buried.
"It was for the best," he whispered, surprised at the emotion that laced his voice. In the quiet of the room he sounded like little more than a child. "I did the best thing for Michael."
"Maybe," Brenda said. "But it hurt you. I can see that every time he calls Sonny daddy. And Carly. . .I don't know why, but I can tell you loved her and it hurt you to lose her too. I'm your wife, Jason. I see things, even when you hide them from me."
"My wife, right," he bit out, his voice bitter over the past she'd drudged up. She flinched at the anger in his voice, but he was too far gone to stop. For once the legendary Jason Morgan control had snapped and he was riding on pure emotion, something he hadn't done in years. "That's a joke," he laughed harshly. "My wife who spends all her time chasing after her old fiancée and trying to get us the death sentence. Some marriage we have."
"I've had four weddings," she said quietly. "Some better than the rest, but you're the only one I've seen through." She rubbed the ring on her finger, held it up so it gleamed dully in the starlight. "It's funny actually," she laughed softly, without humor. "Of all the men I've loved the only one I pledge my life to is the one I hate."
"I thought you love me."
"Do I? Tell me, Jason. You seem to be the one with all the answers. I think you know the truth. I think you've known it for a long time, even if it took me this long to figure things out. Tell me though, what are you so afraid of, Jason?" Her eyes were huge in the moonlight, two liquid pools of warm brown, begging him for answers to questions he didn't want to answer.
It took him a long time to answer. "You," he finally whispered, feeling like a weight was lifted from his shoulders by admitting the truth.
"What?" she gasped.
"You," he repeated, his voice a bit stronger. "I'm afraid of you and what you'll do to me. I saw what happened to Sonny and Jax, even Alcazar when they got involved with you. You made them crazy, obsessed. They couldn't live without you and I don't want that. I will never want that."
"I don't want that either."
"Of course you do. Isn't that your game, Brenda? You make him fall in love with you, obsess about you to the point he wrecks his whole life to be with you? You ruin men, Brenda, and I won't let you do that to me."
"I can only do what you let me. Do you think I liked the way Sonny and Jax treated me? When I was younger it felt right, because I was just as desperately in love with Sonny as he was with me, but I grew up and I learned things about love. Love isn't pain and obsession and being afraid. Love isn't being worshiped. Love is about trust and honesty and peace. Sonny and Jax both loved me a lot, but more than that, they were obsessed with me. I don't want that in my life anymore. I'm tired of all the drama and angst and pain. I just want my little cottage in the woods, surrounded by children, and sharing my life with a man who loves me for me, flaws and all. I know I'm not perfect. I know I can be selfish and spoiled, a little naive at times. But that's me and I'm not going to change that. Sonny and Jax--they could never see me as anything but the precious princess they put on a pedestal. But you. . .you see through me Jason. You don't think I'm perfect or that I can do no wrong. I've been loved by two incredible men in my lifetime and for that I'm very blessed, but neither of them really knew me, not the way you do. I think I love you, Jase." She laughed a little, pressed a shaky hand to her temple. "I know I do."
It was too overwhelming, seeing her watch him with those brown eyes that used to spark with anger, but now seemed to soften with love. He heard her tell him she loved him and felt the familiar fear clench around his heart as he felt take control of him. His entire life he'd loved three women. The first two had betrayed him, hurt him badly, but the third one--she was offering him everything he'd ever dreamed of and he was too afraid to believe in her. He jumped out of the bed, away from her professions of love and promises of devotion. Nothing was forever. He'd learned that the hard way and he wasn't about let a woman he knew could destroy him prove him wrong.
He stood at the window, watching a lone boat wind down the river. What he wouldn't give to be out there on his bike feeling the wind on his back and the moon on his face, anything to get away from her and her power over him. He wanted to run so badly his hands itched to feel leather beneath his palms and cold metal through his jeans. It was getting hard to breathe. He needed to get out of there, get away from her.
To his surprise she followed him to the window and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can't run, Jase."
"I know."
"And I don't just mean because of the trial. You can't run from the truth. Even when you try it just hunts you down and follows you. You've been running for too long, Jase. You must be getting tired after all this time." She rested her head against his back and he sighed as she pressed a kiss against his skin. "And more importantly, I won't let you leave me."
"I won't do it, Brenda. You're all wrong for me. You'll destroy me."
She let out an exasperated sigh. "That's what you keep saying, but we both know it's not true. You're scared because I'm not afraid of you. I don't cut you slack the way Robin and Carly did. I don't worship you like those Kelly's waitresses I know what you are and what you do. I know who you are, Jason Morgan. . .and I love you anyway. You say I'll destroy you, and I could, if you give me the chance, but you won't. I'm not your drug, Jason. I never will be."
Images flashed before his eyes: Lily and her baby dying in a blast of fire and metal, Kristina Cassadine gasping for breath in a burning warehouse, silent tears trickling down Skye's cheeks as the man she'd pledged her life to ran off with another woman. All that pain and suffering--it was because men couldn't control themselves around Brenda Barrett. He thought of the people he loved most: Michael, Carly, Emily. . .could he risk their lives for a woman? She was still pressed up against him, her hair tickling the bare skin of his shoulders. He turned to face her, so he was gazing down into the brown eyes that had haunted him for as long as he could remember. "Do you promise?" he whispered.
"I promise," she whispered.
He dipped his head, his mouth hovering barely an inch over hers. Her lips quivered slightly and she drew closer to him. "I'd like to kiss you," he said. "If that's okay."
"Okay," she said, her voice shaky.
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. It felt like coming home. He'd never been able to say that before. He'd kissed a lot of women in his life, but it had never felt so right. He knew he should keep his guard up all his fears seemed to melt away the moment he pressed his mouth to hers. For the first time in his entire life he felt at peace, all because of the woman wrapped tightly in his arms.
She pulled away after a moment, a shy smile curving his lips. "See. It happened. You kissed me, Jason, and you're still here. You're still in control. That's how it's going to be forever."
It didn't scare him, the thought of being with this woman forever. In fact, nothing about her scared him anymore. Sure, he was addicted to her, but not the way he had feared. He'd let her in, let himself feel for her, even kissed her, and he knew, that if necessary he would be able to walk away. She wasn't his drug or his obsession. She was simply the woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She didn't make him weak anymore--she made him stronger. "I love you," he whispered. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to say it."
She smiled. "We're going to be okay, Jase. You'll see." She reached up and ran a hand through his hair, pulled his mouth to hers. "I'm going to make you so happy," she whispered against his lips.
Outside the sun was beginning to rise, milky shades of orange and red spilling across the horizon. "We have court in a few hours," he said, nodding towards the bed. "We should get some rest."
She wrapped herself around him, sliding her foot down his calf in a way she knew would drive him crazy. "You think we're actually going to get some sleep?"
"We could try," he said a bit raggedly.
She tugged off the undershirt he slept in. "Or not."
He picked her up and carried her to the bed. "I don't think we'll be sleeping much tonight, Mrs. Morgan."
"Mrs. Morgan," she murmured. "I like the sound of it."
He laughed, covering her face with kisses. "Good, because you're going to hearing it for a long time."
"Forever."
~ * ~
"Hey, Jase," she said a little while later, as they tangled together under sheets. "You never finished my story."
He pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Give me a moment to think."
She trailed one hand down his side and he shivered against her. "I'm waiting. . ."
He picked up her left hand and pressed a kiss to her ring. "How's this one: and they lived happily ever till the end of their days."
"That's exactly how it's going to be." And as she fell asleep in his arms, the sun rising in the distance, he had a feeling it really was going to be that way. He didn't have to run anymore, and as long as he had Brenda by his side, he never would again.
~ * ~
Please, please, please respond!!!
Another Brazen story for all you Jase/Brenda fans! This one is set back a bit, right at the beginning of the Alcazar murder triangle. Thank you for all the wonderful responses to my stories. I really appreciate all your input! I hope you enjoy!
~ * ~
"You are my angel
Come from way above
To bring me love
Her eyes
She's on the dark side
Neutralize
Every man in sight
To love you, love you, love you"
- "Angel," Massive Attack
~ * ~
For his entire life there hadn't been a person Jason Morgan couldn't walk away from. Not the woman who taught him to love, or the woman who taught him to hate, or the woman who taught about missed chances--he'd walked away from each of them and never looked back. It wasn't that it didn't hurt each time he left behind a woman he loved, because it did, sometimes so much he thought his carefully guarded heart would shatter, but he wasn't a man to obsess over what might have been. He accepted that life wasn't perfect and that people made mistakes, but he didn't spend his life living in the shadow of a past he couldn't change. Instead he pushed forward, hardened his heart, moved on with his life. He lived in a world of his own making without the trappings of tangled emotions and bitter passion. A cold world, but a practical one--he didn't have baggage to hold him back.
Not that he'd ever admit it, but there were some things, one in particular, that he couldn't escape. . .brown eyes. For as long as he could remember he'd been haunted by brown eyes. It was strange, the way he was drawn to brown eyes, not blue or green, but deep, dark brown. All the women he'd loved in his life had brown eyes: Robin's were gentle and soothing and full of comfort; Carly's flashed with a fiery temper and hidden vulnerability; and that last set--those brown eyes were full of things he didn't want, and more importantly, full of things he didn't understand, because for the life of him he couldn't understand how it was possible to love the same person you hate.
He hated her all right, hated her with a burning fury that made his vision cloud and his eyes see red. He hated the air she breathed, her beautiful face, the way she made his blood boil and his heart race. But mostly he hated her for making him weak.
He was Jason Morgan. He was hard and tough and made of steel. He was a mob enforcer, killed and threatened people for a living. He could stare into the cold barrel of a gun and not flinch; he could look into the eyes of a dying man and feel no guilt; he could push away those he loved and feel no pain. They said he was cold-blooded, that his veins ran with ice--he'd heard it all before and it was true--accept when it came to her.
It had been five years since her lips touched his and he could still feel the burn of her mouth and the sweetness of her tongue. He could remember the feel of her body in his arms, her hair brushing his cheeks. . .her lips molding to his. Sometimes, deep in the night, he'd lie in bed and bring her face to mind, remembering the way she'd looked when, for a brief moment, he'd made her his. Five years should have been a long time, but he could still feel that kiss today. He tried to forget but the harder he tried the more he remembered.
It has been a fluke, a mistake, but he could never forget that night. He'd tried, oh how he'd tried, drowned his sorrows in innocent beauties with personalities like sunshine and big blue eyes. Anything to avoid brown eyes--brown eyes and laughter and silken curves that begged for a man's hands to touch them. She was molten fire, hot and liquid and irresistible. He couldn't stay away from her, could never stay away from her. Even now, when he said he hated her, she called him back to her.
Walking into that church to break her heart--it had almost done him in. Holding her in his arms that night, feeling her shake with rage and pain and heartbreak, had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. The other night, when he'd told Courtney guarding her was better then a lot of jobs he'd done for Sonny, she'd thought he was referring to hits and beatings, but it was always Brenda. Because as much as he said he hated her, resented her, wanted her dead and gone at the bottom of the sea, it was all a lie.
~ * ~
They were joined in the sanctity of marriage--and the mutual desire to avoid jail time--but the reason didn't really matter. They were stuck with one another, bound by promises and words and two shining bands of gold. It had been weeks since he'd taken vows to keep her safe, but he couldn't get those words out of his mind. He'd never thought he'd ever get married, and never in a million years did he think it would be to her. Her brown eyes didn't belong to him. She was another man's woman, another man's drug, but by some cruel twist of fate, she'd ended up his.
They were playing a game, masquerading as man and wife, only the grand prize was their lives. Alexis said they had to act like they loved each other, "Pretend you're in love," she'd said, hiding a smile behind her hand. The expression on their faces had been a mix of dread and disgust, but the message was clear: they needed to look in love to stay alive. "You need to fool a jury," Alexis had told them. "They're the ones who decided your fate. You'll look better if they think you love each other. That means you need to get along, both in front of and behind closed doors." So now they lived together, ate together, even slept together. "This is a high-profile case. You never know where a reporter is hiding," she'd said over protests. "You two are adults. You can share a bed. What's more important, living with someone you hate or staying alive?" She'd left before they could give her an answer.
They'd stood together, watching each other awkwardly, thinking about their options but it wasn't a hard decision. Then, without a word spoken, they'd clasped hands and turned to the door. "You ready to do this?" he'd asked.
She'd nodded, gripped his hand a little harder. "It's not like we have a choice."
He'd squeezed her hand and together they'd walked out of the courthouse and into the lights and cameras and questions.
~ * ~
Now, playing the role of the devoted wife she laid on her side next to him, the sheets gathered around her slim hips, so small she barely made a dent in the covers. In so many ways she reminded him of a child, with her tiny frame and big, brown eyes, but Brenda Barrett was no child. She was a woman who knew men, knew how to love them, how to hate them, how to control them--how to make them lose control. Men reinvented themselves for her, lost themselves in her--and it terrified him.
He was a man who thrived on control, thrived on independence. No woman, no matter how much he loved her, could tell him what to do. That was why things had died with Robin, with Elizabeth, even with Carly. They couldn't handle the life he gave them and had wanted him to change--for them. But he was Jason Morgan. He didn't change for anyone, even if it meant losing the people he loved.
Sonny had once told him there were women men love and women men die for. Brenda was the kind of woman men would give their lives for. There was something about her, something that drew men in and made them want to change, want to be different--for her. Men became better with her, not because she asked them to, but because they wanted to. All she had to do was flutter her eyelashes and men came running. Brenda Barrett made men suffer, she made them weak--she made them hers.
But Jason didn't want to be one of those men--couldn't want to be one of those men. That was why he hated her, because she could make him weak too. If he let himself drown in her eyes, in the dream of a wife that loved him and only him, children that would never call another man daddy, he would be lost like all the others. And that was why he hated her, because given the chance, she could destroy him.
~ * ~
He couldn't remember the day, but he could remember the exact moment he'd seen her as more than Sonny's backstabbing lover. Long ago he'd sometimes found her watching him, her eyes wistful and nostalgic, her expression far away. When she'd see him watching her, noting the look in her eyes, she'd harden her face and steel her eyes. He'd once heard her tell Robin about it, how she'd remember the boy she could have loved, how she would look at Jason Morgan and see Jason Quartermaine's face, but none of his love, his compassion, none of his humanity.
* * * *
"It's so hard, Robin. Sometimes, when I look into his eyes, I see the man he used to be and it makes me sad. Once upon a time we were friends, you know? We cared about each other, maybe we even loved each other a little, but we were friends and his friendship meant everything to me. I could look into his eyes and know I would always find support and comfort there. But now. . .now I look into those eyes, and I tell myself they're that same clear blue, but I see a stranger. I see anger and pain and it makes me wonder what happened to that boy I once knew. Makes me think about what could have been if AJ hadn't wrapped him around a tree. Maybe it would have been him I fell in love with instead of Sonny."
* * * *
Robin brushed it off as the legacy of their old rivalry, but he'd taken Brenda's words to heart.
He never thought about Jason Quartermaine, the boy whose face he shared but whose life he couldn't remember and didn't want to recall. He'd spent all his known life chasing the ghost of the saint he'd used to be and cracked under the pressure. It was the only time he could ever remember crumbling. He hadn't been able to live by the expectations of people he didn't know, hadn't been able to recreate a love he couldn't remember, so he'd left and it had led him straight to Sonny--and to some extent her. Hearing her talk about the boy he'd used to be, the friend she missed, without the hero worship everyone else breathed into their memories, made Jason Quartermaine seem real, almost tangible. Being with her was the closest he ever felt to the boy who shared his face, but not his life.
It was hard to explain how he felt so close to her, a woman he didn't even like. After all, she was by no means perfect. She was selfish and spoiled, had a sharp tongue and razor sharp claws, and a way of pushing every button, even ones he didn't think he had. But she was stubborn and determined and when she loved, she loved with all her heart. He didn't have to remember her past with Sonny to know how much she'd loved him. He'd been there the night Sonny had set her free and she'd lost her mind instead. She'd stood at the altar, surrounded by everyone she loved, and waited for the man of her dreams to whisk her away. Only he never came.
He could still replay exactly what happened that night, still remember every minute detail. She'd looked more than beautiful, clad in a column of soft white, her hair falling around her shoulders, her face all lit up with love for her waiting prince. But it was her eyes that haunted him most. They'd been so shining, loving, expectant--so trusting. He'd pushed open the doors, watched as she'd turned to him, her dark hair falling from her face to reveal brown eyes so full of love and trust it made his hands shake and his mouth go dry. Seeing her stand there, so trusting of the man she loved and so naive to the coward he really was, for the first time he'd almost failed one of Sonny's orders. He'd known who his savior was, where his loyalties lay, and still he'd nearly crumbled. He'd still hated her then: for betraying Sonny, for playing with men's hearts, for having no concept of devotion or loyalty. Yet, in that brief moment when their eyes locked, none of that mattered. All he could think was he didn't want to be the one to cause the light to leave her eyes, the smile to disappear from her face, to be the one to shatter her heart--that thought of that had been almost too much for him to bear.
He wanted to be strong, to stand up to Sonny's order, but she made him weak and all was lost. He'd given in, delivered the news, and it had all gone red. The next thing he remembered was watching her stand before the open doors as the rain poured down. "He always leaves me standing in the rain," she'd whispered and turned to look in his eyes.
That's when he'd seen what he had feared: the confusion, distrust, despair. Her eyes were dead, her voice numb. She was a shadow of a person, a lost princess in a misty party dress, and in that moment everything changed. Suddenly he didn't care that she'd worn a wire to betray Sonny or nearly ruined his marriage to a good woman or played the role of the selfish party girl for too long. He didn't care about that anymore. All he saw was a woman who desperately loved a man that didn't deserve her, a woman who had everything anyone could ever want, yet was willing to give it up to be with the man she loved, a woman who trusted that man with every once of her being, only to discover everything she'd ever believed in was a lie. In his mind, whatever sins Brenda had committed in the past were absolved by her devotion at a man who abandoned her when she needed him most.
It had been awe inspiring to see the force, the intensity of her love. It even made him a little jealous of Sonny, to have a woman who loved him so much she'd risk her life to be with him.
He wanted that love for himself, that forever love that endured time and pain and mistakes. Even now, every time Sonny or Brenda looked at one another, he could see that same love in their eyes. In the years that followed he'd tried to create that same love, that unwavering devotion with the women in his life, but he could never get it just right. One by one they'd betrayed him for another man or ideal and he'd removed them from his life. Every time a woman betrayed him, when Robin told AJ the truth about Michael or Carly slept with Sonny, he thought back to that night in the church and the way Brenda changed his view of love.
It had been a turning point in his life, that night in the rain. He now knew that was when he'd fallen under her spell, figured out her secret. She was a woman born to love men with all her heart and that was what lured me to her: the chance to be a part of that love. He would know; he was one of them, only unlike all the others, he wasn't going to let her consume him. That was why he claimed to hate her, nearly convinced himself she was the devil incarnate, because if he didn't put up a barrier around his heart she would destroy him the way she had all the others before him.
~ * ~
She shifted in sleep beside him and one silky foot ran the length of his calf. He withheld a groan, forced back the memory of that brief moment every hot inch of her had been pressed against him. If he didn't forget, if he let himself hold onto a past that wouldn't repeat itself he'd be lost, because once she had him craving her, begging for crumbs of her affection, he'd be hers and that was something he was never going to let happen. He felt the covers lift, heard the bed creak as she moved, and felt the soft pads of her fingers curl over his shoulder.
"Jase?" she whispered. "You awake?" He ignored her, but she was persistent. "I know you're awake," she said in a singsong voice. "I heard your breathing change. You can't fool me." Jason groaned inwardly, wondering if she knew the reason his breathing quickened had nothing to do with sleep. Her fingers pressed harder into his shoulder, the nails digging into his skin.
"Oww!" he cried and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand off his shoulder.
She grinned impishly in the darkness. "You can let go now."
He released her hand like it burned. "What do you want?" he demanded.
"I can't sleep. Will you tell me a story?"
He stole a quick glance at the bedside clock. "Brenda, it's almost four in the morning, we have court tomorrow and you want me to tell you a bedtime story?"
"We're supposed to be well-rested for court--."
"That's my point."
"But I can't sleep," she continued. "Maybe a story will help."
"Why should I be tired tomorrow just because you're an insomniac?"
"Because I'll just toss and turn all night and keep you up anyway. Please, Jase. Pretty please?" She raised herself on one elbow and peered down at him. The strap of her nightgown slipped down one shoulder and her hair spilled around her face in a cloud of inky blackness. In the darkness of the room her features were softened by the moonlight, the sharper contours of age and maturity replaced by youthful curves. In the pale darkness she looked about eighteen, young and innocent and untouched by heartbreak. Watching her look at him, her black hair falling around her round face, he could see the girl Sonny fell in love with, even a hint of the woman Jax slew dragons for. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and laid a hand on his arm. "Please, Jase? Will you tell me a story?"
He could never say no to her. Why start now? "Okay," he relented. "What do you want to hear?"
To his surprise she plopped down next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. She usually avoided touching him at all costs, but something was obviously different about tonight. "Hmmn," she mused and laid a hand on his chest, pushing the anty further. "How 'bout a fairytale?"
"A fairytale."
"Uh-huh. You know, princesses and princes and far off castles. Just make something up."
"Give me some help," he said slowly, very conscious of the way her fingers drummed on his chest as she waited for him to start.
"Okay. . ." she drawled. "Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a beautiful princess named Brenda--."
"Original, Barrett. Very creative."
"Hey!" she squealed and lightly punched his shoulder. Again, he sucked in a breath as her skin came into contact with his. "This is my story so I can tell it however I want. Now it's your turn."
"Fine. Once upon a time--."
"In a far away land!"
"In a far away land there lived a beautiful princess named Brenda, married to an equally handsome prince named Jason, and they lived in a castle called Harborview Towers. They had a beautiful view of the river, an ugly sea crane, and--."
"Some really horrible neighbors the beautiful princess wanted to get rid of, namely the hideous chambermaid Carly,"
"Brenda," Jason warned. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep Carly out of this?"
Brenda sat up and looked down at him sternly. "First of all, married or not, you don't tell me what to do. Secondly, it's my story, remember?" The teasing note was back in her voice and she curled up against his side again. "Now, get back to the good stuff."
"So the prince and princess lived in the castle, and the princess spent most of her time depleting the prince's bank account and the prince spent most of his time chasing off the princess' suitors, who didn't seem to understand what she was married and off-limits. What should their names be?" She didn't respond, only buried her face into his shoulder. He could feel hot tears against his skin and he gently ran his fingers through her hair and raised her eyes to his. "Brenda?" he asked. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head, angrily brushing away the tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Jase," she whispered. "I'm so sorry I brought all of this on you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Having to marry me, being accused of murder. If only I was stronger, if I didn't have to see Sonny one last time before I died. . ." she trailed off as her voice choked on a sob. "I brought all of this on the people I love. All I wanted to do was protect them and all I did was bring them pain."
"Brenda. . ."
"No, Jason. Don't defend me. I chose Alcazar. I brought him to Port Charles. Don't tell me this isn't my fault."
She was crying in earnest now, huge tears rolling down her cheeks. He hated to see her cry, had always hated to see her cry. That was why he'd been so desperate to get her home the night at the church, not because he hated her the way he said he did, but because he'd known if she started crying he wouldn't be able to take it, and he couldn't let his guard slide around her, not if he wanted to come out alive. "Don't cry, Brenda," he whispered. "It will be okay." He pulled her to him and when she slid into the cradle of his arms for the first time it felt right, like she belonged there, like she was made to be there, like she was the only person with the right to hold him close. It was already starting, much more of this and she'd ruin him for other women, because he was convinced, as she tucked her head into the contours of his chest, that no other women would ever fit him so perfectly.
She laughed harshly through her tears. "You know, you almost have me believing you."
"Almost? I told you I'd fix this."
"I know, and that's the scary part. For as long as you've known me you've claimed to hate me, Jason, but you've never let me down. When we were trapped on the island after the ELQ jet crashed, you had a baby to get back to, but you stuck it out to get me home safely, a woman you hate. Or when I came back from the dead and you told me you'd take care of me for as long as I have left and even now, when I'm not dying, you're still taking care of me. Or even that night in the rain when Sonny ran out on me and you did everything I asked of you, even when it hurt you to do it."
He looked down at the bunched sheets, images of that night washing over his mind. "I broke your heart that night. What are you talking about?"
She turned to him and grasped his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Don't lie to me, Jason. You hated coming to the church that night. Don't deny it because I could see it in your eyes. Most of that night is a haze of pain, but I remember you clearly. I knew you hated me and everything I stood for, that you were probably happy Sonny was finally getting rid of me, but you still hated breaking my heart. It hurt you to cause me pain but you did it anyway. Now, after I've had years to think back on that night, I have to say thank you. You saved my life that night."
He pulled out of her grasp and looked towards the window, at the beams of moonlight peaking around the edges of the curtains. It was clear outside, nothing like the powerful fury they'd experienced five years earlier. "All I did was what Sonny told me to do," he said softly. "Don't make me out to be something I'm not."
"No," she insisted and forced him to look at her. "You knew that Sonny was too much of a coward to do it himself, or that if he had I wouldn't have believed him and would have searched to the end of the world looking for him. You ended that for me. You were the one to set me free and I'll never be able to repay you for that."
The conversation was getting too probing, too deep. If it kept going in the same direction she was going to figure it all out and it would be the end. He'd be another notch on Brenda Barrett's belt, another man she claimed to love but loved to control more. "You can repay me by going to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow."
She shook her head. "No, we're not done yet. Why do you do it, Jase? Why do you save me again and again when you claim to hate me?"
He made his voice cold and emotionless on purpose. "I follow orders, Brenda, and I'm good at what I do."
"No, there's more to it. You know, you're the only man I've ever met who hasn't let me down. Sometimes I think it's because underneath all the barriers you put up you love me, but then I remember that you're not Jason Quartermaine anymore and that it's impossible." He laid stock still beside her, barely breathing, hoping she'd end the conversation and go to sleep. He was on the verge of losing it completely. "Or is it?" she whispered. "Do you love me, Jason? Is that why you claim to hate me so much?"
"Love you?" he said with a forced laugh. "What makes you think that?"
"There's a thin light between love and hate," she said matter-of-factly. "Maybe that's what's going on between us," her voice was softer now, full of awe, as she discovered feelings he'd been struggling with for years.
He shot up in the bed beside her and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. "So now we love each other? Brenda, where is this coming from?"
"All my life I've depended on you, Jase, no matter which one you were. You've looked out for me, taken care of me, been my savior time and time again. You're honest with me. . .and I trust you completely. I've never been able to say that about anyone, not even Sonny or Jax. You don't have any hidden agendas or dead ex-wives or complexes about betrayal. You're good for me, Jason. I feel safe with you, at peace. If that's not love I don't know what is."
"What about compatibility? Passion? We don't have either of those."
She smiled coyly and ran a finger down his bare arm, her smile widening as he shivered under her touch. "I think we have a lot going in the passion department," she breathed in his ear. "And admit it, you like being around me. I make your life so much more interesting."
He couldn't disagree on that note. "But I don't love you, Brenda. And you don't really love me. You're scared about the future and I understand that, but don't create something that's not there."
She shook her head. "You are such a coward, Jason. As long as I've known you, you haven't been afraid of anything, not even losing the people you love most, but now you're running scared."
"You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know me, Brenda. You don't know a single thing about me."
"I knew Robin. I might have thought you were the worst thing to happen to her, but I knew you loved her in your own way. I see the way you look at Michael and I see the pain in your eyes when you have to let him go." Jason turned away as she dug deeper, touched on issues no one, not even Carly dared to mention, brought the most painful issues of his life to the surface and forced him to reflect on memories he'd long since buried.
"It was for the best," he whispered, surprised at the emotion that laced his voice. In the quiet of the room he sounded like little more than a child. "I did the best thing for Michael."
"Maybe," Brenda said. "But it hurt you. I can see that every time he calls Sonny daddy. And Carly. . .I don't know why, but I can tell you loved her and it hurt you to lose her too. I'm your wife, Jason. I see things, even when you hide them from me."
"My wife, right," he bit out, his voice bitter over the past she'd drudged up. She flinched at the anger in his voice, but he was too far gone to stop. For once the legendary Jason Morgan control had snapped and he was riding on pure emotion, something he hadn't done in years. "That's a joke," he laughed harshly. "My wife who spends all her time chasing after her old fiancée and trying to get us the death sentence. Some marriage we have."
"I've had four weddings," she said quietly. "Some better than the rest, but you're the only one I've seen through." She rubbed the ring on her finger, held it up so it gleamed dully in the starlight. "It's funny actually," she laughed softly, without humor. "Of all the men I've loved the only one I pledge my life to is the one I hate."
"I thought you love me."
"Do I? Tell me, Jason. You seem to be the one with all the answers. I think you know the truth. I think you've known it for a long time, even if it took me this long to figure things out. Tell me though, what are you so afraid of, Jason?" Her eyes were huge in the moonlight, two liquid pools of warm brown, begging him for answers to questions he didn't want to answer.
It took him a long time to answer. "You," he finally whispered, feeling like a weight was lifted from his shoulders by admitting the truth.
"What?" she gasped.
"You," he repeated, his voice a bit stronger. "I'm afraid of you and what you'll do to me. I saw what happened to Sonny and Jax, even Alcazar when they got involved with you. You made them crazy, obsessed. They couldn't live without you and I don't want that. I will never want that."
"I don't want that either."
"Of course you do. Isn't that your game, Brenda? You make him fall in love with you, obsess about you to the point he wrecks his whole life to be with you? You ruin men, Brenda, and I won't let you do that to me."
"I can only do what you let me. Do you think I liked the way Sonny and Jax treated me? When I was younger it felt right, because I was just as desperately in love with Sonny as he was with me, but I grew up and I learned things about love. Love isn't pain and obsession and being afraid. Love isn't being worshiped. Love is about trust and honesty and peace. Sonny and Jax both loved me a lot, but more than that, they were obsessed with me. I don't want that in my life anymore. I'm tired of all the drama and angst and pain. I just want my little cottage in the woods, surrounded by children, and sharing my life with a man who loves me for me, flaws and all. I know I'm not perfect. I know I can be selfish and spoiled, a little naive at times. But that's me and I'm not going to change that. Sonny and Jax--they could never see me as anything but the precious princess they put on a pedestal. But you. . .you see through me Jason. You don't think I'm perfect or that I can do no wrong. I've been loved by two incredible men in my lifetime and for that I'm very blessed, but neither of them really knew me, not the way you do. I think I love you, Jase." She laughed a little, pressed a shaky hand to her temple. "I know I do."
It was too overwhelming, seeing her watch him with those brown eyes that used to spark with anger, but now seemed to soften with love. He heard her tell him she loved him and felt the familiar fear clench around his heart as he felt take control of him. His entire life he'd loved three women. The first two had betrayed him, hurt him badly, but the third one--she was offering him everything he'd ever dreamed of and he was too afraid to believe in her. He jumped out of the bed, away from her professions of love and promises of devotion. Nothing was forever. He'd learned that the hard way and he wasn't about let a woman he knew could destroy him prove him wrong.
He stood at the window, watching a lone boat wind down the river. What he wouldn't give to be out there on his bike feeling the wind on his back and the moon on his face, anything to get away from her and her power over him. He wanted to run so badly his hands itched to feel leather beneath his palms and cold metal through his jeans. It was getting hard to breathe. He needed to get out of there, get away from her.
To his surprise she followed him to the window and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can't run, Jase."
"I know."
"And I don't just mean because of the trial. You can't run from the truth. Even when you try it just hunts you down and follows you. You've been running for too long, Jase. You must be getting tired after all this time." She rested her head against his back and he sighed as she pressed a kiss against his skin. "And more importantly, I won't let you leave me."
"I won't do it, Brenda. You're all wrong for me. You'll destroy me."
She let out an exasperated sigh. "That's what you keep saying, but we both know it's not true. You're scared because I'm not afraid of you. I don't cut you slack the way Robin and Carly did. I don't worship you like those Kelly's waitresses I know what you are and what you do. I know who you are, Jason Morgan. . .and I love you anyway. You say I'll destroy you, and I could, if you give me the chance, but you won't. I'm not your drug, Jason. I never will be."
Images flashed before his eyes: Lily and her baby dying in a blast of fire and metal, Kristina Cassadine gasping for breath in a burning warehouse, silent tears trickling down Skye's cheeks as the man she'd pledged her life to ran off with another woman. All that pain and suffering--it was because men couldn't control themselves around Brenda Barrett. He thought of the people he loved most: Michael, Carly, Emily. . .could he risk their lives for a woman? She was still pressed up against him, her hair tickling the bare skin of his shoulders. He turned to face her, so he was gazing down into the brown eyes that had haunted him for as long as he could remember. "Do you promise?" he whispered.
"I promise," she whispered.
He dipped his head, his mouth hovering barely an inch over hers. Her lips quivered slightly and she drew closer to him. "I'd like to kiss you," he said. "If that's okay."
"Okay," she said, her voice shaky.
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. It felt like coming home. He'd never been able to say that before. He'd kissed a lot of women in his life, but it had never felt so right. He knew he should keep his guard up all his fears seemed to melt away the moment he pressed his mouth to hers. For the first time in his entire life he felt at peace, all because of the woman wrapped tightly in his arms.
She pulled away after a moment, a shy smile curving his lips. "See. It happened. You kissed me, Jason, and you're still here. You're still in control. That's how it's going to be forever."
It didn't scare him, the thought of being with this woman forever. In fact, nothing about her scared him anymore. Sure, he was addicted to her, but not the way he had feared. He'd let her in, let himself feel for her, even kissed her, and he knew, that if necessary he would be able to walk away. She wasn't his drug or his obsession. She was simply the woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She didn't make him weak anymore--she made him stronger. "I love you," he whispered. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to say it."
She smiled. "We're going to be okay, Jase. You'll see." She reached up and ran a hand through his hair, pulled his mouth to hers. "I'm going to make you so happy," she whispered against his lips.
Outside the sun was beginning to rise, milky shades of orange and red spilling across the horizon. "We have court in a few hours," he said, nodding towards the bed. "We should get some rest."
She wrapped herself around him, sliding her foot down his calf in a way she knew would drive him crazy. "You think we're actually going to get some sleep?"
"We could try," he said a bit raggedly.
She tugged off the undershirt he slept in. "Or not."
He picked her up and carried her to the bed. "I don't think we'll be sleeping much tonight, Mrs. Morgan."
"Mrs. Morgan," she murmured. "I like the sound of it."
He laughed, covering her face with kisses. "Good, because you're going to hearing it for a long time."
"Forever."
~ * ~
"Hey, Jase," she said a little while later, as they tangled together under sheets. "You never finished my story."
He pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Give me a moment to think."
She trailed one hand down his side and he shivered against her. "I'm waiting. . ."
He picked up her left hand and pressed a kiss to her ring. "How's this one: and they lived happily ever till the end of their days."
"That's exactly how it's going to be." And as she fell asleep in his arms, the sun rising in the distance, he had a feeling it really was going to be that way. He didn't have to run anymore, and as long as he had Brenda by his side, he never would again.
~ * ~
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