Safe Haven

Nikolas Cassidine paced nervously aboard his yacht, almost choking under the powerful solitude that enveloped him. He had long since sent all his servants from the boat; his grandmother had already left but Lucky was still rampaging around from room to room, bellowing at the top of his lungs and breaking everything he could get his hands on.

For that reason, Nikolas had stolen away to one of the formal parlors and it was there that he paced back and forth. His cell phone had rarely left his ear over the last hour as he desperately tried to get word on Elizabeth's condition.

She had done it. She had saved them all.

Helena wanted her poisoned. And she had wanted him to do it. It would be his ultimate and most perfect test; ending the life of the woman he claimed to love in a show of his never-ending devotion to the Cassidine name. He had done it. Helena had triumphed. Lucky had a mental breakdown.

And Elizabeth…Elizabeth's fate was still unknown.

"I'm told that they should be reaching the island soon." Sonny Corinthos' rough voice finally reached his ears. The two of them had been playing phone tag for the last hour, trying to get information on the whereabouts of Sonny's ship and Elizabeth's condition. The news wasn't good, and Nikolas only got momentary relief from the fact that the little boat would be docking soon.

"You've got doctors on hand for the landing?"

"Yes. They're waiting for her at the pier. She'll be taken to the main guard house and put under constant surveillance." There was a pause. "She'll make it through this, Nikolas. She's strong. She's a fighter. Helena Cassidine can't snuff her. She'll have the best care that my money can buy, and she will make it out of this safely."

The young prince pinched the bridge of his nose. Before, Sonny Corinthos' word would have meant sh!t to him. Now, it was all he had left to cling to.

"Lucky. What – What's going on?"

Nikolas' sigh was heavy at the mobster's question. "He's still on the yacht. He came on after Helena left, and when he saw her body…" He had to pause for a minute, recalling that time only an hour ago when he himself had believed that his best friend had died, and by his hand, too. "He's lost it. I – I don't know how to reach him. He's gone off the edge. There's no talking to him."

The silence that followed was thick and oppressive as each man tried to wrap his own head around the situation at hand. Finally, Sonny broke the silence. "She can't go back to him."

"I-"

"No. Nikolas, listen to me. You don't like me and I don't like you, but we both have one big thing in common – we both love that little girl. She's not safe with him. He'll hurt her. I know the signs, and I'm sure of it. Whatever happens between the Spencers and the Cassidines happens – but she can't be mixed up in your family feud any longer. She's paid enough and I won't have her pay anymore."

There was static over the line and before Nikolas could say anything, Sonny's voice met his ears once more. "I have to go. I'll call you when they get to the island and one of my men will keep you posted."

And with that, he clicked off his phone and the young prince was left with the dial tone. With a sigh, he dropped the phone on a lush cushion and collapsed on the overstuffed couch. His heels found the ornate, polished coffee table with a dull thud and Nikolas massaged his temples. Lucky's footsteps echoed out in the hall as the younger man bellowed and searched for him, demanding that he step out like a man and face the consequences for killing Elizabeth.

Nikolas didn't want to do it, but he realized that he had better call some of his men to remove Lucky from the boat and take him to Wyndemere, where he would at least be kept safe. It wouldn't be good for him to be running around, half-crazed and disoriented. A deep sigh made the young Prince's chest tremble and he leaned wearily back into the cushions and let his heavy eyes close.

Sonny was right. As much as he hated admitting it, the mobster was right. Elizabeth could never go back to Lucky. He didn't want her to; he loved his brother dearly but he didn't want him near Elizabeth again. Over the past few months, he had watched Elizabeth's spirit flicker, slowly fading, as she struggled to help Lucky maintain his precarious grip on reality. Sonny spoke the truth: she had paid enough. Elizabeth didn't deserve to inherit an age-old war between the Spencers and Cassidines just because Lucky couldn't let her go. He would have to. Because Elizabeth needed to be safe. She needed more.

She had done more than anyone expected her to in complying with his wishes. Helena wanted proof his loyalty to her and the price was Elizabeth. She had agreed; she had thrown herself down on the sacrificial pyre and done what was needed. She had fallen on the lush red carpet of the yacht, as deep and dark as the crimson wine that had sealed her fate, and Nikolas had honestly believed that she was gone.

But ever the survivor, Elizabeth came back to him. She woke up and opened those big, beautiful, merciful and compassionate eyes and his heart began to sing. He hadn't killed his best friend. He hadn't killed the woman that would save his family. She was fine and he was going to make sure that she stayed that way. But even as he lifted her limp and weak body onto a bed where she would be more comfortable, Nikolas had noticed the change in her. Her eyes – scared before, wide with panic and uncertainty – spoke to him now. They shone with a newfound strength of conviction, and something told him that she wouldn't be the same again.

She had made the biggest sacrifice any individual could – she had given her life, not knowing if she would wake up to claim it again. She died in the name of her love for Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior, the same man who picked her up out of the snow and gave her a new reason to live. She hadn't died herself, but something told Nikolas that her devotion to Lucky, the idea that she owed him for what he did for her, had died instead.

And when Sonny told him that he didn't want Elizabeth to go back to Lucky, it only reinforced what Nikolas already believed. What he said, what Lucky said, what Sonny said didn't matter; Elizabeth Webber would not be going back to Lucky Spencer, and it would be of her own choosing. She didn't owe him anymore. A life for a life. Her debt was repaid.

It was sad to think that was what their once great love had become – a debt. Nikolas had witnessed first hand the bond between his little brother and Elizabeth, and had found himself wishing many times before that he would be lucky enough to have that with someone one day. But in the end, it was violated. It had become a cruel, cold debt.

One that Elizabeth had repaid.

One that she would not be revisiting.

His phone rang and Nikolas instantly roused himself, lunging for it and lifting it to his ear. "Yeah?"

"The boat has docked. They're tying it up and taking Elizabeth to the house."

A sigh of relief had him collapsing back on the couch again. "Thank you."

"No problem. She's going to be fine." Sonny's voice wavered for a minute but the mobster cleared his throat gruffly before it could do so again. "I'll keep her safe, Nikolas. Nothing is going to happen to her. I promised her that a long time ago, you know – that she would be safe. And that if there was ever anything that she needed, I'd provide it for her."

"Sonny-"

"She's in no condition to say anything right now, but I know that if she was, she'd ask me to protect you and Lucky and your families. She loves all of you and wants you safe. I'm offering you my services, Nikolas – if there is anything I can do, do not hesitate to ask me."

"I don't want your help, Corinthos."

"This isn't about you or me, Cassidine." The Cuban's voice had an edge of warning to it. "This is about Elizabeth. She wants you safe. I'm in a position to assist. My offer stands – if you need something, I will provide."

Nikolas grimaced at the wall, forcing his lips to form the words he really didn't feel like saying. "Thank you."

"I'm told Elizabeth is inside the house now. If you need the direct line to her-"

"You already gave me the number."

"Oh, okay. That's about it, then, I guess…"

"Who's down there with her?" Nikolas shifted on the couch, trying to remember the name of that bodyguard Elizabeth often spoke highly of. "That guy – Frank, Franco…"

"Francis. Francis Corelli."

"Right. Is he there with her?"

"No, he's not."

"What about O'Brien? Is he there?" He was listening expectantly, hoping for an affirmative answer. "I don't want her to wake up afraid and alone. I want someone down there that she trusts, that she gets along with. Is O'Brien on the island?"

Sonny's voice was silky and smug. "No, he's not. But I have an idea of the perfect person to send down there."

Nikolas didn't like it, but for once, it was time to think of what Elizabeth wanted, what Elizabeth needed. "Do it. Do your best."

Paco gently stroked the brunette's silky hair off her forehead. Poor girl. She looked like hell. Circles under her eyes, tension lines on her face that granted ten additional years to her tender age, her full lips twisted into a sour and trouble frown. Poor little girl.

His sigh was soft as he lifted a pitcher of cool water and filled the glass at her bedside. She had gotten quite hysterical on the ship on their way to the island and he and the men had no choice but to sedate her. She would be coming to soon, and she would be thirsty.

"Paco."

The bodyguard looked up to see one of the other men – a barrel-chested young Englishman by the name of George – standing at the door.

"Que pasa?"

The jerky tilt of George's head gave him the answer, and Paco let out a nervous breath. It was time for them to leave. He was rising from the bed, slowly so as not to jostle the sleeping girl at his side, when his eyes drifted to her face and he noticed that she was awake and staring confusedly back at him.

At first he didn't know what to do, so he just blinked at her, not wanting to speak first. Her eyes drifted around the room and those slender dark brows furrowed.

"Where…" Her voice was groggy and somewhat slurred. "Where am I?"

"You are on the private island of Sonny Corinthos," he informed her gently in a thick Spanish accent. "You were brought here from the Cassidine yacht."

She nodded slightly, a jerky movement of her head, as she slowly began to recall recent events. "And who are you?"

"My name is Paco. I am one of Mr. Corinthos' guards." He rose to his feet slowly, bracing one hand on the mattress to keep from jostling her with the absence of his weight. Her dark eyes, alarmingly blue, lifted up to his.

"Wait, where are you go-"

"I will be out in the hall, seniorita, if you need me for anything. Do not hesitate to call."

"But, wait-" Her hand lifted, imploring him not to leave until she regained her bearings. God, she hated to sound so dependent but right now, she couldn't help it – she was just so damn confused. "Don't leave me alone-"

Another man appeared in the doorway, stealing the words from her lips. Elizabeth's heart leaped to her throat and she couldn't help but wonder if she was imagining the man in a confused, drug-induced haze. He couldn't really be there, could he? Standing just a couple feet away from her in his blue jeans and a fitted white t-shirt, his hair unruly and mussed from the breeze that caressed the small island. His eyes were wide, wider than she had ever seen them, and his concern for her was evident.

Elizabeth's hands fisted in the sheets and she drew her lip in between her teeth, dragging her gaze over him. He was here. Jason was here. Paco glanced up at him, nodding respectfully, and sent a rueful smile in Elizabeth's direction.

"Take my word, senorita," he said smoothly, already sidling out of the room past the tall blonde man at his side. "You will not be alone."