Somewhere In Between
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Chapter Five: …Before The Break.
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The small group of men—an even half dozen in all—appeared the picture of menacing might: deadly and dangerous. Inky shadows clung to their faces, weighing down their features and masking their darkly clad bodies in the scant moonlight. At the fore, Miguel stood tall, the most impressive of the bunch. And In his eyes, a spark of raw determination flashed icily, allowing only a small glimpse to the ferocity within.
And the reason for that ferocity? Well, that was simple. They were close, so very close that Miguel could taste it. But—and there always seemed to be one of those when it came to this girl—between him, Lorenzo, and their goal lay one more previously unforeseen boundary, one more hurdle.
Modern technology.
It seemed the Quartermaine girl lived in a gated building. Morgan had been more thorough than he ever could have imagined. Just thinking about it made Miguel's fists clench at his sides. All this work, assembling a team, planning an escape route, readying the jet, and they had been pushed off schedule hours by a damn iron gate locked tightly with an electronic keypad and a revolving code. The lunacy of it all had threatened to bring out the less-than-diplomatic side to him.
But, fortunately for Pedro and the rest of the group, the crushing urge to level some poor soul to dust had since passed. And in its place, an alteration to plans and an alliance that made Miguel bite down on his tongue to keep from howling in hysterical laughter.
Here they were a pack of highly trained and extensively armed henchmen, on the doorstep of Port Charles' resident Looney Tunes reject, Ric freakin' Lansing, about to ask for his… help. His help for God's sake. Could it get any worse?
He supposed they didn't have a choice, not with things being down to the wire, as they were. But still, seeking out Lansing to gain access to Emily's building? That chafed the ego like nothing he'd ever known.
Flexing the tension in his jaw loose, Miguel shot Pedro a pointed look. The guard nodded once and sunk even further into the shadows, taking the men with him. Miguel rang the doorbell.
Within a few moments, Lansing slung open the door, his face crashing around him in obvious dread. Miguel hid a smile; Lansing thought he was there to kill him. If only.
"What are you doing here?" Ric's words seemed to barely pass his lips in a steady stream. The man was clearly trying his best to hold it together.
"Not for what you think," said Miguel through clenched teeth. His next words took even more effort, using every last shred of resolve he had left in him. "I need your… assistance."
That's when it came, the most condescending smirk ever to attach itself to Lansing's face. Miguel was sure of it. "So, Lorenzo finally realized all I could bring to the table, did he?"
"No," snapped Miguel, stepping forward over the threshold. "We hit a snag tonight and need to make use of your connections to the Quartermaine girl." He hated divulging that information to anyone, let alone to an incompetent like Lansing. But at this point, Miguel didn't have the luxury of discretion. They needed that code and Lansing's wife was presently at Emily's apartment. If anyone could get it on such short notice, Ric could. Using creative methods, of course.
Ric's eyebrows drew up, not surprised but more like assured. Lorenzo did mention that Lansing had happened upon something sensitive, that he may know more than he should. The glint in Lansing's eyes told Miguel that Lorenzo had been correct; Ric had suspected their actions and his request for facilitation had just confirmed those suspicions.
But along with confirmed suspicions came questions. "So, you are going to take Emily, then?"
Miguel nodded slowly. "Yes, tonight." A beat passed and Miguel hardened his gaze, straitening himself in a rigid, intimidating stance. "And your silence is recommended, Mr. Lansing. That is, if you're fond of your heartbeat."
Ric didn't seem as frightened by the threat as Miguel expected. But then Lansing was a little off. "No need to threaten, Miguel," he said, waving an almost dismissive hand. "Your secret's safe with me. I won't stand in Lorenzo's way."
Miguel allowed the words to sink in, going over their legitimacy, whether or not they could be trusted. Frankly, Miguel still felt Lansing could go either way. Once a sneaky weasel, always a sneaky weasel. "For your sake, Ric, I hope you stand by those words."
Ric held his gaze, albeit guardedly, for a long moment and then dove back into the issue at hand. "You said something about needing my assistance?"
"Unfortunately," nodded Miguel. "Her building is gated, as in the entrance is blocked by a large electronic security gate that only unlocks with personally assigned codes, codes that we need."
The lawyer in Lansing began to pierce the surface, eyes becoming thoughtful. "And you think I can help you with that? How? I've only met the girl once or twice, what makes you think she gave me her security code?"
"Oh, we know she didn't," said Miguel. "She's Morgan's sister, I have every confidence that she's well versed in the sensitivities involved in being a part of his life." Slitting his eyes darkly, Miguel continued, skillfully keeping the mild amusement he felt from seeping into his tone. "In other words, Ric, the girl knows better than to trust men like you, married to her best friend or not."
When Lansing's left eye twitched fittingly at his comment, Miguel had to bite the inside of his lip briefly to fend of his own smirk. "Right," began Ric, voice a little stiffer. "But I still don't see how you think I can help you. Emily doesn't know me beyond my ties to Elizabeth; she won't give me the code. She has no reason to."
"But your wife will."
Realization swiftly dawned in Lansing's eyes. "No." Ric backed away quickly, shaking his head furiously. "I will not let you drag my wife into this. I've already decided to keep my mouth shut about this plan, don't expect me use her in aide to the kidnapping. I will not do that to her."
"Calm down," said Miguel sternly, warning flashing in his dark amber eyes. "All you have to do is call her, make up some excuse or reason why you need to stop by Emily's apartment, convince her to give you the code, then at the last second change your mind and get her to come to you, helping to clear out the apartment for us. Elizabeth will have no clue what you just did. We get the code, the girl, and you get to watch as Corinthos and Morgan suffer." An evil grin curled over Miguel's lips. "I think it's a win/win situation, don't you?"
Ric blinked at the scenario presented to him, peering at Miguel disbelievingly. "Why don't you just smash the gate and go get her? Why go through all this trouble? It doesn't make any sense."
Miguel closed his eyes for a moment and willed his patience to return. Why couldn't this just be easy? Why did Lansing always have to push? "You really aren't familiar with the term 'stealth', are you? If we smash that gate we narrow our work time to ten minutes, at best, before the authorities swarm the building, and Morgan descends upon it with an army of guards. If we enter legally, we have all the time in the world to get the girl and get out without arousing suspicion. We need those codes, Ric, and you're going to get them for us. One way…" Miguel lessened the gap between them, and pushed his leather coat open just enough to expose the brilliant metal of an M9 Beretta holstered on his belt. "…or the other."
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"Hmm… how 'bout over there?" The tall brunette gestured to the room's far corner with thoughtful eyes.
Nikolas and Lucky exchanged exasperated looks. "I for one think it looks great right were it is, Em," Lucky piped up, knowing full well that if they didn't nip Emily's indecisiveness in the bud right here and now, they'd be spending the rest of the night rearranging this blasted living room set of hers.
Emily's nose scrunched up in thought, her bottom lip caught in-between the unsure hold of her teeth. Nikolas fought the urge to smirk appreciatively at the picture she made. With one hand set loosely on her hip, the other up under her chin, her fingers absently rolled the simple gold cross around her neck while her golden brown hair flowed around her impossibly cute face.
Was she always this beautiful?
The Prince suddenly sucked in a sharp, but largely unnoticed breath (Lucky shot him a raised eyebrow). Where did that come from?
God, between sudden mental flickers claiming Emily's beauty and mental visualizations of a Mrs. Emily O'Brien dancing around in his head, the prince resolved that he most definitely needed to get a better hold on his thoughts. Oh yeah, his head was absolutely starting to run away from him.
Damn Lucky. Damn Lucky to Hell. This was all his fault. Nikolas never would have allowed himself to obsess over how much he was obsessing if Lucky hadn't started that inane line of questioning in the car ride over. Let something incredible slip through his fingers? What the hell did that mean, and why did Nikolas have a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the woman who was currently frowning rather intently at the deep plum colored sofa he was standing in back of? The Prince pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Good lord, why did thinking about this make his head hurt?
"Nikolas, are you all right?" Emily's sweet voice filled his ears and Nikolas looked up, finding the cuteness gone but instead replaced by look of genuine concern that warmed his heart all the more.
"I'm fine," he said, sending her a subtle smile. It felt good to look into her eyes and not see the tension, the doubt. "But I'd have to agree with the blockhead, here." Nikolas jerked his head to his left at Lucky. "I think the room looks perfect like this."
She shrugged her shoulder's with a grace innate to her, and gave the richly decorated room another once over. "I guess," she sighed. "But something still seems, I don't know… off."
"Maybe it's more the apartment than the furniture, Em," offered Elizabeth from her perch on the coffee table. "I mean this will be your first night here, it won't feel like, you know, home for awhile."
"That's right," said Lucky, lifting himself over the sofa's back to take a seat against the overstuffed cushions. "You have to break the place in first, get it all lived in. Then if won't feel so much like a ridiculously large hotel room."
Emily let out a small giggle. "Right, cold and impersonal… just what I always wanted in a new home."
Well, the Prince could definitely sympathize. Wydemere didn't exactly bring on the warm and fuzzies. "Give it time, Em," he said, allowing his unknowingly intense gaze to lock with her soulful brown eyes. "You can work your magic on anything." And anyone, he added silently. Apparently that control of mind thing just wasn't going to happen. Damn you, Lucky.
Elizabeth and Lucky exchanged a look of their own, and Lucky quickly drew himself off the couch and next to Liz on the coffee table. "Just look at them, "he whispered to her, watching the pair intently. "Do they even have a clue?"
"Not a one," she said, a tiny smile forming on her lips as she watched Emily draw Nikolas to the window seat, presumably to show him the view. "But something tells me that won't last for long, one way or the other."
Confusion bloomed in Lucky's eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, I don't know about Nikolas, but Em is certainly getting to the end of her rope with all this odd behavior they've been suffering through. She's tired of it." Elizabeth looked from the softly speaking pair to Lucky at her side. "She hasn't said as much, but I know her and I'm getting the feeling that things need to evolve between them soon, or I think Em will just wash her hands of it altogether."
Lucky's gut did a slight flop at the insinuation. "You mean… move on?"
Elizabeth nodded, somewhat saddened. "Her relationship with Zander gave her a new appreciation for the simple life. She wants things simple from here on out, Lucky, and your brother is not making any of this nonsense simple. She's sick of holding onto a memory, and you know what? I don't blame her one bit." Something violently wistful, but quiet all at once, seemed to attack her tone then, setting the young woman's painted mouth in a thin, reflective line. "Sometimes living in a dream of the past is the most harmful thing you can do to yourself."
Dream of the past… was she talking about the baby or… something else? There definitely weren't any shortages in the 'something else' department. She'd been through so much in her life, too much. Lucky's heart suddenly felt heavy in his chest. If there was one thing he hated in this life, it was to see the women he cared about in pain; Elizabeth was still one of those women, no matter where their lives had taken them. "Elizabeth…"
She didn't give him the time and instead retrained her eyes on their friends, shaking loose the errant melancholy. "I want her to be happy, Lucky and I think that if he tried hard enough, Nikolas could do that for her. I mean, since she got back, his 'interest' has been painfully obvious, and the same goes for her. He damn well sees that she's not a little girl anymore; he just needs to get around himself first. They both do."
Lucky snorted. "I've tried to help along the process. Believe me, I've tried."
Elizabeth eyed him, eager to know how the attempt had gone. "And…?"
"Well, what can I say? He's kind of an idiot. A big, royal, dense idiot."
It was Liz's turn to laugh. "You just figuring that one out?"
Before Lucky could answer, the electric hum of a cell phone erupted between them. Elizabeth's eyes widened and she fumbled into her back pocket, coming up with the ringing phone.
"Hello?" she answered tentatively as she pressed it to her ear. God, she hoped it wasn't something about the art show. She couldn't stop thinking it was going to fall through for some reason, couldn't quite believe that it was actually going to happen… to her. Since when do things that wonderful happen to her?
The soft sound of her husband's greeting came over the receiver instead and relief flooded through her body. Shooting Lucky an apologetic look, Elizabeth quietly moved to the closed off kitchen to finish their conversation.
"Hey, sweetie," she said happily. "What's going on?"
Ric's voice came over the line abrupt and rather rushed.
"Well, it seems I've misplace my set of house keys," he said gruffly. "And I can't seem to find the spare set, either."
Elizabeth grimaced. "Oh-no," she grimaced. "I took them to have some copies made; did I forget to tell you?" She didn't think she had, in fact she clearly remembered mentioning something…
"You must have," he replied, his voice coming down a notch, calming. "It's okay, though, they extra keys are a good idea with the way I misplace things."
She nodded, reflecting on just how absent-minded her new husband could be at times. "So, I guess you're locked out then, huh?" She asked, nibbling at her lip, feeling bad for putting him in the predicament to begin with.
"Indeed, I am."
Elizabeth peeked around the pillar separating the kitchen and living room, taking in the sight of her three laughing friends with fond eyes. She didn't want to leave them, but if Ric was locked out… "Okay, well, just hold tight, I'll be right over."
"No!" he said suddenly and a little too loudly. "I mean, there's no need. You're helping Emily and spending time with your friends, I don't want to interrupt that."
"Ric, don't be silly, you're locked out. I'm not just going to leave you—"
"Why don't I just swing by Emily's place and pick up your set. Besides, it would be nice to see Emily. She's your best friend; I should make more of an effort to get to know her… and the rest of your friends, too."
"Well…" Elizabeth worried at her bottom lip again, watching as Lucky and Nikolas moved that godforsaken couch again for Emily. This was supposed to be a Four Musketeers night. Ric could end up making things awkward. But then again, he was her husband and these were her friends. She didn't want there to be such a separation between people that meant so much to her. Having him drop by could be just the push toward bonding that they all needed. Brightening slightly, Elizabeth went on, "Okay, there's a gated entry to the building so I'll just wait down there to let you in."
"No," he said all too suddenly again. "T-the traffic… its, um… it's just awful so I'll probably be awhile. Why don't you just give me the code and I'll let myself in. That way you can relax with Emily and the others until I get there."
For a moment, a brief, ridiculous moment, Elizabeth considered whether or not she should give her husband Emily's security code. But then she mentally shook her misgivings away. This was her husband… why on earth should she be hesitant about giving him the code? Absolutely no reason she could think of.
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Ric ended his call to Elizabeth, looking up to meet the approval in Miguel's eyes. "Happy?"
Tucking the slip of paper he'd written the security code on into his jacket pocket, Miguel smiled broadly, cruelly. "Ecstatic."
Disgust suddenly rose up in Ric's throat, the unmistakable taste of bile creeping into his mouth. He'd really done it. He'd just thrown Emily Quartermaine, his wife's dearest friend, to the wolves, and just any wolf, but the one right in front of him. The thought made Ric's blood run cold. Lorenzo may have been ruthless, but Miguel was something different, something far more sinister. Something about the man exuded a carefully cloaked evil, a darkness that dwelled behind deceptively bright amber eyes. This man was a killer, and he enjoyed his job beyond measure.
And as Miguel exited his home with purpose to his steps, Ric felt like emptying the contents of his stomach right then and there. He'd just left an innocent girl at the mercy of a cold-blooded murderer, to do with as he pleased.
Ric had not only crossed the line between justice and 'vengeance at any cost', he'd just erased it completely.
But as sick as the idea made him, Ric still had one last part of the bargain to hold up: Helping to clear the murderer's path.
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"I don't get it," said Elizabeth vacantly, staring at the cell phone in her hands, her face bunched in stark confusion.
"It's not that hard, really, just punch in the number and press send." Emily flashed a cheeky grin as she strode into the kitchen and to the refrigerator behind Elizabeth.
Liz rolled her eyes. "Smartass," she growled back to her friend as Emily hoisted herself up onto the granite countertop, soda in hand. "I'm talking about Ric."
"What happened?" asked Emily, popping the top on her bottle.
Elizabeth's frown deepened and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the island's cold surface. "He called not twenty minutes ago and said he misplaced his house keys and that he needed my set to get inside. I offered to go drive them to him, but he put up a fuss and said he wanted to come here, that he wanted to make an effort to get to know everyone, you especially."
Emily smiled, "I'm flattered."
"Yeah, well, I wanted him to come over, too. I even told him how to get in and then he calls me back just now and says that maybe I had the better idea, that I should come home and let him in." She sighed deeply and chucked the cell phone onto the countertop rather roughly. "I don't get it, Em. Why would he change his mind like that?"
The sitting brunette shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he got cold feet. I mean, hanging out with all of us at once and at my apartment—which, by the way, is not the most neutral of territories given the relationship between him and Jason—I can see how that could get him a little flustered."
Elizabeth pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, her eyes still troubled. "I guess," she sighed. "But still, I just wish this wasn't such an impossible situation."
"I know, Liz. Just be patient," said Emily softly, jumping off the counter and coming to stand beside her friend. "There are a lot of hurdles to work through here. He won't be comfortable around us—me especially—for a long while, not with all the obvious ties I have to Jason… and Sonny."
Elizabeth snapped her eyes up, the brown orbs holding a small measure of warning. "Emily, I told you. He's over his vendetta. He wants peace with Sonny."
"And I'm not saying that isn't the case, Elizabeth," she said, sure to keep her voice even, not the least bit threatening. The last thing she wanted was to get into an argument with Liz over Sonny and Ric. "I'm just saying that old habits die hard sometimes. Ric may want peace and so might Sonny, but the instinct to hate and to be leery of one another will still be there for awhile. Something like that needs more than a few months time to heal itself, if it ever does at all. They may not be at each other's throats, but I don't see them becoming friends right away or trusting mutual acquaintances, either. Not even me. At least not right away."
Elizabeth nodded softly, knowing her friend was speaking the truth. Ric had spent so many years fixated on destroying Sonny, an obsession like that doesn't completely die out over night. It would take time, lots of time. But in the end it would be all right. It had to. She loved him too much for it not to be.
"So," started Emily, wanting to switch the subject to something a little lighter. "The guys are currently flipping through the DVD collection Dillon gave me as congratulations for 'fleeing the asylum'. What do you say we go intervene before we end up watching some horrible—?"
Emily's words were abruptly cut off by the sudden materialization of her bodyguard, his brown-haired head poking around the pillar that separated kitchen from living room. "Emily, can I have a word?"
"Um… sure, Johnny," she said, and then turned to Liz. "I'll be right back, okay?"
With Elizabeth's nod, Emily allowed the handsome guard to guide them through the rear of the kitchen into the small hallway that lead to the back bedrooms.
"What do you need?" She asked him, vaguely aware that he seemed a bit ruffled, a tad on edge.
"Your brother just called. He went to go see Alcazar but apparently he's left town."
She nodded slowly but it wasn't long before Emily felt a little lost. Why would he tell her this? "And what does this have to do with me exactly?"
Johnny's eyes narrowed on her. "Emily, we went over this, the guy made a deliberate move to speak with you. Do you really think something like that should go unhandled?"
Handled… God, that word sent a shiver up her spine. She detested that word and the connotations that went with it. "Depends what you mean by 'handled'," she snapped. "I mean, can't Jason just be satisfied that Alcazar isn't in PC right now. Isn't that a good thing?"
The guard huffed out an impatient breath, sweeping a hand through his disheveled brown hair. "Not necessarily. Sometimes absence doesn't always equal gone, sometimes it's just a prelude to something… bigger, a diversion of sorts." He watched as Emily's eyes narrowed in confusion. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he keep slipping at the mouth like that? Rule number… whatever, of being a bodyguard: Don't run off at the mouth and scare the womenfolk. "Look," he said stiffly, subtly shaking himself back on track. "Jason wants more than just me guarding you now, but since none of the other guys are available tonight, he wants us to sort of… hunker down, until tomorrow."
Emily's brow tilted. "Hunker down?"
Johnny nodded. "He said that he's very sorry, but he wants everyone who's not you and me to clear out so that I can tighten down around here." He watched the frown lines form on her forehead. "Look, it's just for tonight, okay? Tomorrow another guard will be stationed outside to help and things will go back to normal."
"Normal." Emily scoffed and gestured to the gun holstered on the guard's hip, her hand then doing a vague sweep of the hallway. "Do you honestly think any of this is normal?"
He almost—almost—faltered then, softened, but the important thing was that he didn't. His conversation wish Jason had cemented his role in Emily's life. He would offer her protection, a blanket of defense against a clearly insane world, but beyond that, it was Jason's job to coo and soothe, not his, no matter how he sympathized for the girl in front of him. No, no part of this girl's world was normal anymore and it was a tragedy, a grave one. But it was her reality now, maybe even a permanent one, unfortunate as that may have been. He just hoped it wouldn't take her too long to realize that, because fighting against it was as useless as it was painful. And somebody almost always ended up hurt, usually you. That was something he knew all too well.
Backing away from her, Johnny held her gaze a moment, a silent understanding hidden in his eyes, one a small part of him vainly hoped she wouldn't catch. It would feel too much like crossing a line, getting too personal. "As normal as it's ever gonna get for us, Princess," he said quietly, wondering where in the hell that nickname came from and why we decided to use it all. Things didn't normally just slip out like that… No. Get your ass back on track, O'Brien. Now. Blinking away the monetary glitch in his professional facade, Johnny doled out the last of his orders, "Now please get rid of your friends so I can do a sweep of the apartment."
Trailing down the hall after Johnny, Emily reappeared in her living room to three concerned looking faces.
Nikolas was the first to rise to his feet, glancing furtively between Emily and her guard as he did so. "Is something wrong, Emily," he asked, apprehension laced delicately into every word. Something was off; he could sense it in her body language, though he would wager it more annoyance than fear or disquiet.
The young woman crossed her arms over her chest and let loose a disheartened sigh. "I'm afraid we have to cut this short," she said, taking special care to look at only Nikolas as she spoke. Him leaving was the part that upset her most of all. Everything had turned out so much better than she thought it would when he showed up. They didn't fight once, not one below the belt barb or awkward moment. It had been easy. Like it used to be… before.
In the three seconds it took her to speak, Nikolas was in front of her, gauging her with worried eyes. "What happened," he asked, looking over her shoulder briefly at Johnny, who had come to stand a small distance behind her.
Good question, she thought. "Nothing earth shattering, Nikolas," she said soothingly, hoping to assuage his fears. "Things are just tense for Jason and Sonny right now and in turn… tense for me."
The prince tried hard to keep from baring his teeth. And Lucky thought he was overbearing with Emily? Well, at least his life wasn't an imminent threat to her and didn't require her to tote around armed guards and cut herself off from her friends. As long as he lived, Nikolas didn't think he would ever understand her devotion to that man she called a brother, the devotion that allowed her to forgive him anything, even the endangering of her life. "I don't like this," he whispered finally, only to her, seeming to forget that the O'Brien, his brother, and Elizabeth were even still there. His mind was completely wrapped up in the delicate brunette before him.
Emily's eyes softened and if she had been more naïve, her heart would have skipped a beat at the intensity his gaze held. But she wasn't naïve, and she knew the concern staring back at her was brotherly, not romantic; something she feared she'd never stop being disappointed by. "It'll be okay," she said softly. "Just give my brother and Sonny some time, and then all this mess will be over and done with."
"They're the reason for this mess to begin with--"
"Nikolas," she said sharply. Friend or not, more or not, it didn't matter. Jason was her brother, and that was with whom her loyalties lay, first and foremost. "My brother and Sonny will protect me, of that I have no doubt and neither should you."
His could see the warning flashing in her eyes and decided, in the interest of preserving at least a little of the easiness they'd just regained, to keep his mouth shut and do as she wanted. Nikolas nodded slowly and softened his stance. Still unaware of anyone but her—a fact he no doubt believed Lucky would rub in his face later on—Nikolas stepped closer to her and placed a gentle and completely chaste kiss on the flawless skin of her cheek. He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it; just that for some unexplainable reason he was met with a near crushing urge to be close to her right then, and a simple, friendly kiss was the only way he could achieve that. As he slowly, reluctantly pulled back from her and the soft sweetness of her intoxicating scent she looked up at him and smiled warmly, and in a way only Emily could. The simple gesture sent a ripple of relief down his spine, and set loose heavy and unfamiliar warmth within his nearly fluttering heart. Nikolas bought a gentle hand to her face then and swept his thumb over the creamy skin. He was rewarded with another smile, one that reached the glittering depths of her dark eyes, eyes he knew he could easily drown in. Things are definitely changing between us, he thought, finally releasing his friend completely. And maybe this time for the better.
When Nikolas moved away, Emily felt suddenly bereft, unfairly separated from the unexpected warmth his entirely wholesome gesture had settled upon her. Pinching perfectly manicured fingernails into her palm, Emily willed herself not to blush. She was not a giddy school girl with a crush anymore, she was grown woman who just received a peck on the cheek borne out of genuine concern and caring from a longtime friend. There was nothing to get giddy about, dammit.
She pinched a little harder as he smiled at her once again, full and indulgent, broad and magnetic. Her heart quivered in her chest.
Oh for heaven's sake, who was she trying to kid?
Nikolas Cassadine would forever be under her skin and she had never experienced something so unfair in all her life. There was something more, something different in his eyes now when he looked at her, but Emily refused to believe it. He was hers to crush on and obsess over, and she was his for comfort, friendship, and all things sisterly. It was the way of things between them, the way he had wanted them all those years ago. What kind of fool would she be if she allowed herself to think the rules had suddenly changed?
The kind that ended up with a broken heart, that's what, and it was something Emily wanted no part of. She'd had enough of that to last her a lifetime.
After sharing another long, dizzying and horribly confusing look with Nikolas, giving a goodbye hug to Elizabeth, and being on the receiving end of a brotherly embrace from Lucky, Emily closed the door on her three best friends in the world, completely unaware of just how much time she was about to lose with them all.
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TBC…
