Chapter 13--Here's the latest chapter to this FF story. I hope you like it and thanks for the comments.
Alexis opened the front door and made a face.
"Oh it's you."
He shook his head at her as he stepped into her house, obviously ignoring her expression of distaste as he usually did these days.
"Tsk, Tsk," Jerry said, "Can't you find it in your heart to forgive me for some of my…minor transgressions in our colorful history together?"
Alexis felt herself go momentarily weak as she always did when one of PC's residential sociopaths crept up to her and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. This time, she vowed, things would be different. This time she would be strong and render herself immune to the deadly charms of the men who usually brought her to her knees. This time…was that his warm breath tickling her earlobes?
She closed her eyes sighing.
"I don't even know what to call you," she said, already weakening beneath his gaze and loathing herself for it.
Jerry's eyes twinkled.
"You can call me anything you'd like in the moment of passion," he said, "You know the raw unbridled emotions that temporarily make you speechless and turn off that silly self-censoring part of your brain."
Alexis folded her arms.
"It's not going to work this time, Jerry or Craig or whatever name you are currently traveling under," she said.
"I can help you Alexis darling," he whispered seductively.
She didn't doubt that he could fix all of her problems but did she really want his kind of help? Did she really want to sell her soul to the Devil and pay for it by burning in the fires of Hell beneath PC? Dealing with her current problems through the use of incendiary devices could be very messy and wouldn't create much sympathy in the jury that decided her fate if she did wind up going on trial for murder. It was bad enough that the town's populace wanted to hang everyone with a drop of Cassadine blood on sight, never having forgiven her family for freezing the entire town in some twisted act of world dominance. Even worse, the female half of the town could never forgive her for knifing one half of the most drop dead gorgeous mobster twins to hit the town in recent years. Sure Luis Alcazar had his homicidal moments (who didn't?) but there wasn't a red-blooded woman in PC who didn't still fantasize about a sordid coupling with him and his brother, Lorenzo even though they were both dead and buried. In fact, she had done so herself, though more so with Lorenzo playing a starring role in her fantasies of romping between the satin sheets than his brother.
Not to mention that it was getting harder and harder to keep the Quartermaines out of the jury pools even as their numbers in PC became fewer and they seemed to enjoy sending people to the gas chamber for the most trivial reasons. If one of them wound up on her jury, she might as well set up the scaffold herself, because they would surely convict her on the basis that she had jilted Ned and broken his heart. As a result, Ned had been forced into a half-life of being caught in the manicured claws of his ex-wife Lois who played stage mother to their poor song bird of a daughter, Brook Lyn who had been committed to a mental institution as a result of her brief stay in PC. Someone would have to pay for that and she didn't want to be in their cross-hairs.
But Alex thought, she'd be damned if she was going to enter into a deal with the aforementioned devil, in more ways than one. Yes, Jerry or whatever his name was had a killer body and had swept her off her feet and had given her the best sex since…well the last psychopath she had slept with. Still, she had to place morals above earth-shattering orgasms and both of those had to play second fiddle to the welfare of her two daughters…oh wait, actually three of them. She could forgive herself for forgetting on occasion that she had a daughter in her twenties. First of all, she didn't even remember which sperm donor she had slept with when Sam had been conceived and besides, she didn't look like she could possibly have a daughter of that age. But somehow seeing Jerry standing in front of her, she remembered her oldest daughter with perfect clarity.
"You slept with Sam," she said.
He looked miffed but that brought her guard up even more because that is when Jerry proved to be the most dangerous and seductive of all.
"I believe you have me confused with your ex-husband," he said.
Alexis briefly fantasized about her cutlery collection just a few tantalizing yards away but she dismissed it. She was in enough trouble already for committing a murder that she didn't remember.
"You had sex with her when she was vulnerable," she said, "I can never forgive you for that."
Jerry's eyes narrowed.
"Is that what Samantha told you," he asked, "It's a lie. Not that I didn't want to, but we just never quite got down to it."
Alexis could have been shocked at his candor as most women would have been but she lived in PC and at least he was upfront about his amoral craving for Sam unlike some other people including her caddish ex-husband Ric.
"Alexis, my darling," he crooned, "I can take care of these people who create problems for you in your life."
She sighed, wishing for a brief moment that she had possession of Diane's leather whip. But then she remembered that the furry handcuffs hadn't held him back for that long. So she tried a skill that was entirely new to her, patience.
"Jerry," she said, "I have to solve my own problems and you have to go before anyone spots you here and runs off to tell the D.A.
"You are the D.A.," he reminded her, "That's part of what makes you…so sexy."
She folded her arms at him.
"I'm wise to your charms and your motives," she said, "and besides, I was a D.A. yesterday but I won't be one again until next week. I think I'm my own public defender today until Diane officially takes my case which I guess will be when I'm officially charged with someone's murder."
His smile dimmed.
"Alexis, you need me," he said, "so if you'll just think about it for a few…"
She pointed to the door, not wanting to him to see how her self-resolve hung by a thin thread.
"Out," she shouted.
He looked at her one last time and then he slunk out her front door. She looked back and forth down the street hoping that none of her neighbors had watched him leave. But alas, a pack of paparazzi had been parked on her front lawn and now followed the last bad boy she had promised herself she would ever sleep with like a flock of moths down the street.
Michael blinked his eyes and did a double take as he saw the blond woman step out of the fog which swirled around her, much as it did anyone who walked on the pier.
"Who the hell are you?"
If she were offended by his attitude, she didn't show it. She pulled her coat closer around her and smiled at him. He looked at her carefully, seeing something about the beautiful woman that seemed familiar. He tried to think of what that might be but it made his newly reconstructed brain hurt.
"Do I know you," he asked.
She smiled and flashed a hand accentuated by diamonds.
"Let's just say, we spent some time together when you were much younger," she said, then confusion tainted the radiance of her grin, "That wasn't all that long ago come to think of it."
"Were you a friend of the family," Michael said, "A maid, a nanny…"
She scowled.
"Oh God no," she exclaimed, "I had better things to do with my time than menial chores like mopping floors and wiping the faces of snot-nosed brats."
He nodded, digesting her words.
"So how do we know each other?"
She tilted her head.
"I was special to you and your brother, Morgan and your sister…Kristina."
He made a face.
"I just ran into her," he said, "She ran off upset because she and I…we're supposed to go on the run together and she doesn't want to go with her brother."
The woman nodded.
"I can understand that," she said, "The summer on the run is a very important rite of passage in a young girl's life. It's kind of like going to the prom with your brother. It just won't do."
"She looked at me like I was a total loser," he protested, "It made me mad."
The woman looked at the battered tree and the stick lying on the ground.
"I see," she said, suppressing a smile, "Well if you want, I could help you win your case with your sister so that she will be more than happy to go on the run or I can help you find someone else instead."
Hope filled Michael promising to replace some of the anger at least for a little while.
"Could you?"
She smiled broadly at him.
"Yes I..."
Suddenly Michael looked up and saw that his half-sister Kristina had returned. She almost looked apologetic, biting her lip.
"Michael," she said, "I came back to tell you that I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
He looked at her, noticing that indeed she seemed more than a little bit contrite. His heart softened.
"Kristina, it's all right," he said, "This woman's going to help me…She'll help us."
Kristina looked at the statuesque blond suspiciously.
"I don't know Michael," she said, "There's something about her…"
The woman smiled.
"I remember you," she said, "You were so…young."
Kristina folded her arms.
"I'm growing up now," she said.
"I can see that," the woman said, shaking her head, "You go away and disappear for a while…"
Kristina felt curious despite herself.
"Who are you and where did you come from," she asked.
The fog on the pier whirled around the woman some more, nearly hiding her again.
"My name is Faith," she said, "Faith Roscoe and I'm here to make all your dreams come true."
Kristina frowned.
"Like some sort of fairy godmother?"
Faith shrugged.
"I guess you could call me that," she said, crooking her finger, "Now come here and tell me what you want and I will make it happen."
Both Michael and Kristina looked at each other, wondering who would take the first step.