Safe… No More

Chapter Twenty-One
FNF#30: For things that are seen pass away, but the things that are unseen are eternal. ~ L.M. Montgomery

Cameron's birthday had come and gone, but, still, neither she nor her son had seen or heard from Jason.

Sure, he had sent her little boy several presents the day he had turned four, all of which the toddler had been overjoyed to receive. Currently, his gifts from Jason were his favorite toys to play with. The toy motorcycle went with him everywhere – to daycare, in the car, and he even took it to the grocery store and would run the wheels back and forth along the front of the cart as he sat while she shopped. His tricycle was parked in the little shed behind the house, and, after riding it, Cam was always quick to wipe his precious bike down, never wanting it to have a speck of dirt on its shiny, green paint. As for the travel book on the Amazon Rainforest that he had sent her only child, they read a passage from it every night, only for Cameron to nod off clutching the stuffed Chuggin' Charlie the thoughtful mobster had purchased for her little boy.

However, after all his presents had been opened and after he had consumed several cupcakes, Elizabeth had still been able to see the dull sheen of unshed tears in her little boy's eyes when he realized the night of his birthday that his friend wasn't actually coming to see him. The fact that she had been unable to give her son the one thing he had wanted the most crushed the single mother. While, realistically, she knew that failing to provide Jason for her now four year old wasn't something her parenting skills could really be faulted for, she still felt like a failure as a mother. The truth of the matter was, and she could admit it to herself now, that Jason would probably still be living with them if she hadn't of insisted that he move out, and, though she still felt separate living quarters was the right decision for the three of them, she wondered, if she had gone about suggesting it some other way, if the blonde would still have been there for her toddler.

But from regrets results didn't spring, and 'what if's, as Jason had months ago told her, did no one any good, and she was resigned to the fact that the mob boss was no longer an actual presence in her life. Despite the fact that she worked for him, physically he was gone from her world, and, really, that was probably for the best. It was Cameron, anyway, who had grown attached to him, but children were resilient, and, in a few months' time or maybe as long as a year, Jason would only be a distant memory for her little boy, and, eventually, her child would someday forget about him completely… just as Jason, apparently, had already forgotten about them.

Realizing her efforts to contact the crime lord were in vain, she had stopped leaving notes for him, and she no longer harassed the guards for either help or information. Ritchie seemed relieved. When they now talked, the college student made sure that she stuck to safe subjects – the weather, her school work, Cameron's friends at daycare, his planned vacation in July, for he was flying out to spend some time with his parents and sister in Phoenix. It had already been arranged so that, while he was gone, Milo would be Cam's guard, and, though she liked the younger Giambetti brother, she knew that she would miss her friend. And Cam would, too.

Along with her son's birthday coming and going, so had her first two college courses. She had managed to pull off A's in both classes, and she was determined to keep her 4.0 GPA… even when she took on a full course load later that year. Not only did she want to prove to herself that she was capable of such high grades, but she also wanted to show Jason that his faith in her abilities, in her intelligence was justified. While, realistically, Elizabeth knew that she wouldn't sail through college with perfect grades, she felt that consecutive recognition on The Dean's List was something she could achieve.

Now, she was elbow deep in her second set of courses that summer, and June had brought with it warm, summer days. Life was good, and work was getting easier. With a firm routine in place, her cleaning schedule has become proficient and well appreciated. Her last paycheck had revealed that she had earned a raise, and the few extra dollars that amounted to every pay was being placed in a savings account for her little boy. If nothing else, her own life experiences had taught the single mother that it was never too early to start planning for her son's future.

However, things that afternoon were not what she had been expecting. Wednesdays were her designated days to clean the offices at the coffee warehouse, but, when Will had picked her up from class that morning, he had deposited her somewhere new, somewhere she had never been before. It wasn't a new safe house either. Outside, the mystery building was nondescript, rather boring in fact, but, inside, it was arranged and set up to serve as a location to hold meetings. There was a large, windowless board room in which the centerpiece of the space was a large, oval table that could easily seat at least a dozen people if not more. Luxurious, leather chairs were evenly situated around the table, all of them in matching black, and the walls, floor, and ceiling were all decorated in utilitarian, neutral colors. There was a bathroom off of the large room, a small kitchenette, and various smaller rooms of which she had no idea what purpose they served.

Upon arriving, Johnny, a guard she had only met once before but had heard quite a bit about in the meantime, someone whom she was under the impression was Jason's second in command, greeted her. Awkwardly, he had given her a hug, thanking her for all that she had done for his boss and friend, and Elizabeth had to fight a smirk when she realized that the older man really did treat her like a little sister. It was a strange reaction from someone who was practically a stranger.

"So…," she ventured, raising a finely shaped brow in question. "Why exactly am I here?"

"Oh, Will didn't tell you?"

Teasingly, the single mother remarked, "I don't know if you've never noticed this before or if you're just being coy, but your coworkers really don't say much of anything."

Laughing, the Irishman joked, "so we've been told before… numerous times." Without touching her, he held his hand behind the small of her back, gesturing her to lead the way into the open boardroom. "To answer your question, Miss Webber…"

"Please," she interrupted him. "It's just Elizabeth."

"Alright then," Johnny affably agreed. "You're here today, Elizabeth, to, if you wouldn't mind, do a little redecorating."

Now, that she had not been expecting. "Really?"

Rolling his eyes, the senior guard responded, "well, look at this place. It's a code blue away from being as antiseptic as a hospital. We use this building for some very important meetings with some equally as important clients and competitors. We need this place to impress."

"And you think I'm the person to make it look that way?"

He shrugged then. "You are a woman, so that means you have to know more about decorating than any of us guys do. Plus," the security expert added, a knowing twinkle illuminating his mischievous green eyes. "Jason said that you're an artist, so this should be right up your creative wheelhouse."

While she knew she should have protested a little longer, and while she was curious whether or not Johnny's boss, their boss, was aware of his right hand man's proposal, the petite brunette couldn't contain the excitement she felt towards the idea of getting her hands on the bland, clean slate of the room before her. Walking around the space in a studious manner, she informed the bodyguard, "I can tell you right now that you're biggest obstacle is going to be lighting. The fact that this place has no windows makes it feel extremely dark, almost claustrophobic."

"But you'll be able to fix that, right," the Irishman suggested knowingly.

Elizabeth just smirked, hitching one slight shoulder in response. "Maybe."

"Well, think about it," he instructed her. "I have some errands to run, but I'll be back in an hour or so, and, hopefully, by then, you'll have a game plan in mind."

"For what?"

"To go shopping for paint and anything else you might need," Johnny answered. "I figured it would take you probably the rest of the week to get this done, so we hired someone else temporarily to cover for you with the rest of your regular duties." Without waiting for her to agree to the job, he continued on. "There's some paper and a few pens, I think some pencils in the top drawer of the kitchenette. Not the best place to keep such things, I realize that, but Jason's all about the practical, you know." Backing out of the room, he signaled towards his watch. "One hour."

And, just like that, he was gone, leaving the former waitress standing there, alone, in the sizeable, plain boardroom, her mouth agape with shock. She had just been steamrolled… again, and, this time, Jason had not been the one to flatten her into submission.

What was with mobsters and their inability to not control every single facet of every single situation?

Aimlessly, she wondered about the room, mentally calculating its dimensions, studying the traffic flow, planning in her mind various different design ideas that she could possibly implement. The college student would be lying if she said redecorating the boardroom didn't appeal to her. While she didn't mind her job cleaning the various offices and buildings owned by the Morgan Organization, it was tedious, repetitive work, and this would give her a break and allow her to put her overflowing abundance of creativity to good use. Plus, to say that the room was a challenge was a grievous understatement, and she welcomed such a distraction, such a change to her regular, monotonous pace.

Foregoing the paper and writing instruments, Elizabeth began to construct an image of the space in her mind. While she didn't plan on making the boardroom too exotic, she did want to spice it up a little bit, provide it with some character, really put her mark on the room, and, after seeing just how colorful, just how original Johnny O'Brien's personal style was, she had a feeling the second in command wouldn't argue with anything she had in mind.

Hearing the outside door open behind her, she kept on working, resisting her natural urge to turn around. "I can't believe an hour has already gone by. I'm either a terrible judge of time, or you need a new watch."

No one answered her, and the young mother felt goosebumps form on the back of her neck and rapidly progress down the tender, soft flesh of her back. Although the building's air conditioning was turned off, she suddenly felt chilled in her simple pair of jean shorts and cheap, white tank top. Even her toes, left free and bare in her flip-flops, felt exposed and abruptly ice-cold, but Elizabeth knew that the shift in her body's temperature had nothing to do with either her environment or her choice of dress and everything to do with the fact that the person standing behind her was not Johnny O'Brien but the Irishman's boss, Jason Morgan.

Slowly, the pretty brunette swiveled around to face her former roommate. Swallowing roughly, she tremblingly raised both of her hands to her face, tucking hair back behind her ears that really wasn't even there. Why she was so nervous, why she felt as though she was about to jump out of her own skin, the single mother didn't know. It was just Jason – gruff, infuriating, exasperating Jason who drove her to distraction like no one else could and made her angrier, feistier than anyone else could possibly even imagine. "Hello."

"What are you doing here?"

As always, he got directly to the point.

"Johnny… uh, Mr. O'Brien…" Unsure of how she was to address the top-level guard, Elizabeth flushed timidly. "He, um, said that you wanted the boardroom redecorated, that you wanted me to do it."

"Oh. Yeah."

She waited, waited for him to say more, but, when it became apparent that he wasn't going to, the college student felt her irritation starting to rise towards the kingpin, but she refused to fight with him. After two months of not seeing him and being fully aware that even more time would probably stretch between their next chance meeting, she just wanted to make pleasant, inane conversation… if that was even possible between the two of them.

"He, um, he left me here to get a few ideas, but he should be back shortly if you needed to see him. We're, uh," she fidgeted once more, this time shoving her hands into the back pockets of her cut off shorts, "we're going to go shopping… for supplies."

"Right."

"So," she offered, rocking forward slightly as if the simple movement would inspire Jason to actually meet her half way in their little, awkward conversation. "How have you been?"

Again, answering with only one word, he responded, "busy."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes; she couldn't help it. "So I've heard."

Watching as the blonde across from her uncomfortably lifted a hand to scratch at his left eyebrow, she waited for him to say something in return. "And you?"

"Jason, I'm sure the guards keep you informed about my life." Sighing, she let him off the hook. "You don't have to ask just to be polite."

"I don't… I wouldn't do that. Yes," he admitted, "they tell me the facts. They tell me if you're safe, about any new security measures, things like that, but they don't tell how you are."

"Oh," she breathed out in surprise. "Well, then, I'm good. I'm great, actually, and Cameron is wonderful, in case you were curious."

"Thanks," the blonde said softly. "Did he… like his gifts?"

"Loved them," Elizabeth reassured the quiet mobster. "They're all his current favorites, because you gave them to him."

"Good, I'm glad."

"He, uh," taking a deep breath, the young mother forged on. "He misses you."

And, as she watched Jason lift his gaze to meet hers for the first time since he stepped into the building, she realized that he knew exactly what she was admitting to, that she was confessing to the fact that, not only did her little boy miss him, but that she did, too, for some unexplainable, incomprehensible reason. "I miss him, too," he returned. And she also knew that, when he repeated the sentiment to her, he, too, was admitting to missing her as well, despite the fact that common sense would dictate otherwise.

Before either of them could say anything else, though, the mob boss' cell phone rang, and he answered it immediately. Patiently, Elizabeth waited for him to end the call, and he did so quickly, crossing the room to her and tugging her along after him as he headed towards the door. "We have to go."

Obviously, something was wrong, and, since Jason was insisting that she go with him, the former waitress guessed that one of his men was hurt, and he needed her to help treat them. Willingly, she allowed him to guide her out of the building and towards his awaiting motorcycle. Even given the situation, the brunette couldn't hide the anticipation mounting inside of her at the thought of finally getting to be on the back of Jason's bike again.

Pausing long enough to hand her the helmet he always kept on his motorcycle, the kingpin went to help her on when she stopped him from doing so, locking their gazes together as she asked, "do you already have supplies where we're going, or do we need to stop in order to pick some up?"

Ineptly, she heard him asking in confusion, "supplies?"

"Yeah, for the man that's hurt," Elizabeth answered. "We are going to take care of one of the guards, right? Someone got shot or stabbed or… you know what, you don't have to tell me. I'll help no matter what the circumstances."

"No," Jason acknowledged her question with a slight shake of his blonde head, reaching out to grasp her by the shoulders. "That's not it." Without realizing what he was admitting, he said, "we have an in-house doctor who takes care of things like that." But, before she could contemplate just what the crime lord's confession meant, he was continuing on, losing her in both his words and the abject fear and misery coloring his usually stoic, placid eyes. "It's not one of my men, Elizabeth."

Swallowing thickly and dropping his now tearful gaze, he brokenly whispered, "it's Cameron."

And that's when her world fell apart.