Safe… No More
Chapter Two
FNF#11: I stuffed myself sick on your memory and the beautiful mess we'd made… but I'm so tired of being inspired only when things slip away. – Matt Nathanson's "First Time"
Waking up was never her favorite thing to do, but, after a restless, dream filled night, it was even more unpleasant. But, like always, Elizabeth was prepared for the alarm to go off that morning. At least, she was mentally prepared for it. It didn't matter if she was wide awake and perfectly rested, her body would still startle and jump at the sound of the rousing bells peeling throughout her small, utilitarian bedroom, and, just like every morning, the clock going off beside her made her jolt in fright.
But she didn't get up right away. Exhausted, weary, and feeling quite sorry for herself, all the young mother wanted to do was wallow in self-pity the whole day, never once pushing the covers off her petite frame. However, she had responsibilities. There was Cameron who would be up soon as well, wanting his breakfast, and then there was also her job. She didn't get vacation days or sick days. If she was scheduled to work, she better be there or else, but that didn't stop her from groaning to herself as she struggled to find a firm grasp on consciousness.
After the night she had just endured, the very last thing she wanted to do was confront the day, but, unlike normal, she had a third obligation awaiting her – Jason. Like always, she had managed to land firmly with both feet in a mess too big to get out of easily, and, now, in order to temporarily avoid the inevitable, she was essentially being blackmailed into taking care of a wounded mobster. Surprisingly enough, though, it wasn't Mr. Morgan's occupation or even his injury that gave her the most pause, but, rather, the memories he brought up for her, memories he, apparently, didn't recall himself.
Pregnant and alone, she had done her best to grieve and move past Lucky's death. Although there would always be a part of Elizabeth that loved him, knowing that another life, someone who was innocent and pure, was depending upon her, growing inside of her, Lucky's child, had helped her push aside the depression she had wanted so badly to fall into and made her focus on taking care of herself. By the time Cameron arrived, her heart was by no means healed but it was whole enough to fall in love with her son at first sight, and, since then, she had never looked back.
Over the years, the love she had once felt for her high school sweetheart had been transferred onto the child they now shared, and becoming a mother had helped her recover from the loss of the one person who had loved her unconditionally. The dreams – more like nightmares - had slowly disappeared, and she began to live her life without being crippled by sudden flashes of memories revolving around Lucky. It wasn't perfect, there would always be moments when he would flicker into her mind and she would be temporarily distracted by sorrow, but, generally, she had adjusted to the father of her only child's death.
… Or so she had thought.
Suddenly, without warning, Jason Morgan had come stumbling back into her life, and, with him, he brought her recollections that had been pushed aside and forgotten. The only former tie she had shared with the onetime enforcer and current mob boss was Lucky, so, seeing Jason, spending time with him, and having him seem completely oblivious to the fact that they were once, at least, acquaintances, had thrown her mind and heart for a loop, sending her crashing into a bevy of emotional baggage she, previously, had been unaware of even still having.
As she had closed her eyes the night before, the image of her deceased boyfriend's room above the bike shop burning down to nothing was there to greet her, and, after falling asleep, that memory had morphed into something else, something uglier, something grotesque and unreal. Somewhere lost between the healthy awareness of actuality and the bizarre, crippling fantasies of her dreams, Elizabeth had seen the only boy she had ever loved burnt to death at the boxcar instead – a place that was special to them and their relationship, and the very same place where Lucky had introduced her to Jason Morgan. Eventually, though, she became conscious of the fact that, instead of Lucky dying in the fire, it was the man sleeping out on the couch in the living room, and, for some reason, that thought was just as horrifying as losing Lucky all over again.
Back and forth her mind had taunted her during the past night, until, finally, she had managed to fall asleep soundly earlier that morning. So, as she climbed out from under the sheets and ambled her way crookedly towards the one bathroom occupying the safe house, yawning the entire journey, the single mother realized that she was operating under just a few hours of agitated rest. Her body felt drained, her mind was cloudy with anxiety and doubt, and her heart felt as if it was in physical pain.
To say that it was going to be a long day was a cruel and sick mockery of an understatement.
Working quickly, she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and got dressed for the day, slipping on a basic pair of black dress pants and a white blouse, the customary uniform for any waitress at The PC Grill. Although her wardrobe, because of work, was bland, it was also cost effective, and, at that point in her life, a veritable vagabond with a three year old son, her appearance was the least of her worries. She couldn't say that she felt refreshed or even ready for the day once she finished in the bathroom, but, ready or not, the day was quickly approaching, and it wouldn't wait for her, no matter how much she silently begged it to.
Another yawn snuck out of her slightly chapped lips as she made her way into her little boy's room, stepping carefully so as to avoid the legos spread out across the floor. But, when she reached Cameron's bedside and went to switch on his lamp, she froze with inaction, panic seizing her chest and twisting it with a brutal terror.
He wasn't there.
He wasn't anywhere in his room, in fact, and, for a split second, Elizabeth's feet were rooted to the floor with dread until her maternal instincts kicked in and she started to act out of sheer adrenaline. She searched his closet, peeked her head back into the bathroom, and then double checked her own room, just in case she had somehow missed hearing her own little boy come in to sleep with her the night before. After all, Cam did that sometimes. If he had a nightmare, he'd run to her side, and, instead of climbing into bed with her, he'd sometimes curl up on the floor beside her bed, not needing to wake her in order to feel reassured and comforted. But he wasn't there either, and the safe house and the woods surrounding it were absolutely too silent, in her opinion, frightening her even more.
She was just about out of the door, her feet bare and unconsciously left exposed to the natural elements, determined to find her three year old son, when a voice stopped her in her tracks, making her pivot around to confront it. The sight before her nearly made the brunette twenty-two year old collapse in relief, and the tears that had been threatening to spill over her wide, apprehensive eyes just second before checked themselves before she could further make a fool out of herself in front of the emotionless man holding her little boy.
"Looking for something?"
She just glared at him in response, but Jason seemed unfazed, perhaps even amused with her display of temper, and Cameron still refused to extricate himself from the don's arms. Her son was sitting on the couch with the mob boss, perfectly content and looking at home, despite the fact that, before the evening prior, he had never laid eyes upon the blonde.
"How did you not hear your own child get up this morning?"
The question made her bristle, and Elizabeth crossed the few steps separating her from the sofa. Without meeting the older man's gaze, she mumbled, "I had a bad night," and hoped that he would let the conversation drop there. But, of course, when she went to pick up Cam, he fought her, shaking his head no and pushing her hands away, determined to remain with his new friend. Whispering to the three year old, she reprimanded, "you're going to make Mommy late for work, so let's go. I need to get you dressed, and you can eat your breakfast on the way there."
She was expecting the injured crime lord to say little else now that she was attempting – and failing – to ignore him, so she was slightly taken aback when he announced, "Cameron's staying here with me."
Her astonishment turned to anger when, after several beats, she realized Jason was serious. Standing up straight, hands cocked in a challenging manner on her hips, the young mother observed him coolly through narrowed orbs of crackling cobalt. "Excuse me? I could have sworn that I just heard you tell me what my son's going to do, but I must be mistaken, because…"
"You weren't."
"But I don't need you to watch him. Cameron goes to daycare when I work," she explained. After a deep breath, the waitress realized that the blonde might have been trying to be nice, trying to offer her free babysitting services since he would be there anyway. Although it was hard to bridge the gap between the feared, powerful persona the media presented him as and the injured, evidently kid-friendly man sitting before her, she tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. "He has friends there, I drop him off before I go to work and pick him up afterwards, so I don't need your help. Thank you anyway, but…"
Pronouncing his words slowly as if he believed she was having a difficult time comprehending him, the don stated unequivocally, "he stays here. With me."
"Just who do you think you are?"
"I'm the man who, apparently, has been providing you with free rent for quite a long time, so I really don't think you have a right to argue, Miss Webber."
"I don't care if I owe you my life, Mr. Morgan," she returned just as icily. "When it comes to my son, you have absolutely no say."
"I disagree, and, besides," Jason reasoned, turning to look at the three year old in question whose head was bobbing back and forth in a confused nature between the two bickering adults. "Cameron doesn't want to go with you today."
"Of course he does," the single mother contended, reaching, once again, for her son only to have her hands batted away for the second time. "He likes his teachers, and he'll miss his friends if he doesn't go." Appealing to her little boy for concurrence, she asked, "right, Cam?"
But he just looked up at her with his sweet, innocent, blue eyes, smiled widely, his dimples on display, and proudly declared, "Jason's my friend, Mama!"
"See," the mob boss defied her, smirking. "Two against one."
"Cameron," Elizabeth instructed the toddler. "Why don't you go into the kitchen and get some cereal for you and Mr. Morgan, okay?" Without word or argument, the three year old trotted out of the living room, leaving the two adults alone. Whirling around, once again, to face her adversary, the twenty-two year old snapped, "never do that to me again. Never," she threatened, "use my son to manipulate me, and, if you do, I promise you here and now that you will not like the consequences."
Shifting on the sofa, he returned, "I don't see what the big deal is. He wanted to stay here, I'm not going anywhere, obviously, and, with the guards, he's perfectly safe. I would think that you would want to do what's best for him, but what do I know? After all, you're the
same woman who slept through her son waking up and going out to spend time with a stranger this morning, and you're also the same woman who can't provide for her kid properly, so she trespasses on private property and puts his life at risk every single day. What kind of mother are you?"
His words hurt more than she wanted to admit, and he didn't even know that he was striking back at her where she was the most vulnerable. Obviously, because he didn't remember her, Jason was unaware of her history, and, despite the fact that she could easily admit to herself that she hated the arrogant criminal, his words still stung her more severely than either of them could have imagined. Her greatest fear in life was letting her son down. She truly tried to be the best mother she possibly could under the less than favorable circumstances they were forced to endure, so hearing her ability to raise Cameron called in question had a crippling effect upon her, and she immediately backed down.
Turning away from the don, she hurriedly finished getting ready, slipping on her socks, shoes, and coat before willing her little boy to return with his breakfast so she could say goodbye to him. Despite Mr. Morgan's assurances that the three year old would be perfectly safe with him, Elizabeth knew that she would be a nervous wreck the entire day, fretful and distracted. However, the sooner she left, the sooner she would be able to return.
Finally Cameron came running back towards the couch with a box of cereal in his pudgy little hands, a smile illuminating his face the entire way. He dropped the food and came barreling into her arms as she kneeled down to give him a hug. Ignoring the man behind her who was watching their interaction closely, the waitress kissed her little boy goodbye, told him she loved him, and then promised to see him later. It wasn't until she was at the door to leave when Jason spoke up, his hostile, disdainful tone making her pause.
"Don't forget to pick up some medical supplies while you're out."
They had emptied the first aid kit the night before as she took care of him, and, knowing his bandages would need to be changed as soon as possible, he was right in ordering her to purchase the necessary goods. However, she hated his attitude, she hated the fact that he had leverage on her that could be used to order her around, and she hated that she had no course to fight back. Meekly obeying, she nodded her head sharply in agreement before slamming the door behind her.
Really, she just hated Jason Morgan, but, with his opinion of her mothering skills already so low, she wasn't going to lose her temper again that morning. All he needed was another piece of ammunition to use against her, and she refused to give it to him. If he wanted to make both of their lives miserable, well, two could certainly play that game, and it just so happened to be that she was an expert at that particular set of rules. When she was finished with the mob boss, he wouldn't even know what had hit him.