Part XI
Alexis had the tell tale signs of a sleepless night; dark circles were painted below her eyes, her voice was hoarse and she had just finished her third coffee before ten o'clock. The previous night had been spent hovering outside of Jax's bedroom door, trying to work up the courage to talk to him. She had cried about Luke, her brother, Jax, Lucky and every other person tearing at her heart. Alexis briefly fell asleep with the phone perched between ear and shoulder, pleading with the district attorney's office and whatever judge or court official would listen to her.
She left in the morning without saying a proper goodbye to Jax. She had simply tapped on his bedroom door and said, "I'm leaving," and was answered by silence. Alexis couldn't even be sure he hadn't left earlier in the morning, avoiding any awkward conversation.
"Long night?"
Alexis looked up from the yellow legal pad lying open on the table. She rolled her eyes and didn't even put out the effort to dismiss Taggert. She looked back down at the various marks her black pen had made, and flipped the pages to scan all of her notes on Helena and Lucky.
"Your brother just finished breakfast. I bet it's the first time he's ever had orange juice from a paper cup, don't you think?" Taggert laughed jovially, sliding down onto the chair beside her. He draped his arm over the table, his hand briefly making contact with her's. His laughter slowly died out when he caught sight of her red rimmed eyes. "Sorry," he apologized, clearing his throat and sinking down in his chair.
"Does he know about the bail situation?" Alexis asked, holding her forehead in the palm of her hand.
Taggert shook his head, tapping on the table with his short fingernails. "As in he has no bail? Nope."
"Great," Alexis sighed under her breath. She licked her lips and reached for her coffee mug. Before her fingers could wrap around the ceramic novelty mug, she saw Taggert's arm snake out to push it away. "Excuse me," she huffed.
He stood up, carrying the mug to the table against the wall. "You need something healthy, counselor. Something with vitamins and... flavor," he told her seriously, pouring orange juice into a styrofoam cup. Taggert carried it to the table and place it in Alexis' hand, pointing from her mouth to the rim of the cup. "Drink," he ordered.
She rolled her eyes again. Just as she brought the rim to her lips, the door opened and she recognized the sound of her brother's ragged breaths. Alexis let the mug slip from her hand, nearly spilling on the table. She stood up and walked toward Stefan, resisting the urge to throw her arms around his neck and settling for draping her hands over his shoulders. "Hi," she whispered, unable to form anything more profound.
"Alexis," he replied, glaring at Taggert over his sister's shoulder.
"We should sit down," she told him, guiding Stefan to the table.
Taggert leaned against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. He tried to hear every word that left their mouths, every hushed whisper and every angry holler. He wasn't a fan of Stefan Cassadine, but something in his gut was telling him he didn't try to murder his own sister.
~*~
He had been carrying the paper cup for over an hour, fingering the plastic lid and studying the bright letters printed on the paper. When he finally took a sip of the coffee, it was cold and bland. Jax spotted a trash can through the corner of his eye and launched the tall paper cup into the bin.
Spinning on his heels, he began walking in the opposite direction. He stuffed his hands into empty pockets and searched the street for a vacant bench, an empty stretch of grass or a cafe that was not buzzing with customers. He needed to be alone.
Jax crossed the street and entered the park. He jogged down the narrow path until he came across a bench. He waited until straggling runners passed by to sit down. Jax bent at the waist, resting his elbows on his thighs and holding his face in his hands. He didn't budge when he heard her voice, but his muscles visibly tightened.
"Mr. Jacks. What a pleasant surprise," Helena cooed, batting her eyelashes.
He looked up slowly, glaring at her. "Not really."
She sat down without invitation, purposely pressing the side of her body against his. Helena crossed her legs and smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt. She swung to the side slightly, blocking him in as her knees pressed to his. "Do I have to guess why a man like you is sitting alone in the park, wallowing in self pity?" Helena asked, her fingers hovering above his thigh.
Jax shifted uncomfortably. "No. You can be on your way, Helena," he advised her cautiously.
"You're right. I don't have to guess. I know the appearance of Alexis' damage first hand. I will only offer this advice, Mr. Jacks-"
He held a hand in the air. "Don't offer any advice. I'm fine. It's none of your business why I'm here or what kind of relationship Alexis and I have. Understand?"
"I was merely going to say that a man like yourself could have any woman. You are not to be toyed with, and you appear quite the fool," she told him, her tone becoming more dangerous. Helena stood up and looked down at him, forcing his eyes to lock with her's. A proud smile crossed her lips and she said, "Why pine for Alexis when all she can think about is fumbling around with Luke Spencer in the back of his car?"
Rubbing her hands together and waving, Helena turned and walked away. Jax sat up, his arms dropping to his sides. He had managed not to let his face become an expression of shock or betrayal at her words, but those were the things he was feeling. Part of him knew Helena would do anything to cause another human being pain, especially if Alexis is involved. But part of him couldn't help but believe her. Couldn't help but find a reason to trust Helena Cassadine.
It suddenly dawned on Jax that the last time he saw Helena, she was climbing into a limousine with Lucky Spencer. In between worrying about Alexis and nursing his broken heart, he had forgotten to mention the encounter to her. And the bitter part of Jax decided it should remain his secret. He decided to prove to Alexis that he's much more than a shoulder to cry on; he could keep his own secrets and fight his own battles.
~*~
She watched through the small crack between the door and the wall as Stefan took aim at Mac and Taggert. Alexis flinched every time his voice rose, frustrated that she knew he was telling the truth and no one else would ever believe him. She inhaled sharply and choked on her breath as a familiar scent reached her nose.
Alexis spun around and saw him, leaning against the wall across the room. A lopsided grin on his face, arms cross confidently over his chest. She pursed her lips together and watched as Luke slowly made his way toward her.
"Hiya, partner," he drawled, leaning down until his warm breath rasped against her cheek.
She swallowed hard, hoping he didn't notice. Alexis hoped he couldn't hear the way her heart beats increased or how her cheeks became flushed at the sight of him. She smiled and said, "Spencer."
"So formal," he observed, his eyes wandering from her unkempt hair to the pair of shoes that didn't match her suit. "Even after... hmm."
"Why are you here?"
Luke shrugged a shoulder. He glanced around the room, not paying any special attention to Stefan. He focused on Alexis and said, "I want to file a missing persons report." She cocked an eyebrow, her eyes puzzled. He clarified, "But I don't have to anymore. 'Cause I found you."
"I was never missing," she told him cooly.
He nodded. "Uh-huh." Luke circled around her, stopping until he was standing behind her. He bent down until his face pressed into her hair and lowered his voice to a husky whisper, saying, "I woke up this morning and you were gone. No letter on the pillow beside me, no message written in lipstick on the mirror. Nothing. Just an empty bed. I was worried. The Alexis I know would consider that disrespectful."
She exhaled a sharp breath, clucking her tongue in annoyance. When she spun around, their faces were less than an inch apart. Alexis' lips parted of their own accord and her eyes slowly began to close. Luke smiled as she tilted her head to the side, expecting to feel his kiss. He snickered under his breath when her eyes became angry slants as he backed away, ignoring her.
"I couldn't stay," she finally told him.
"Really? What'd you do all day? I know you weren't working on your brother's case 'cause he's still here, darlin'."
Alexis balled one hand on her hip, angrily tapping her foot on the ground. "I was plenty busy, Luke."
"I bet. Was I too much for you? Were you afraid if you didn't leave while I was still asleep, you'd never be able to tear yourself awa-"
She glared at him until he stopped talking. She saw Stefan emerging from the interrogation room. Alexis shook her head and spoke through clenched teeth. "You have to shut up, Luke. My brother can probably hear every word... no, wait. You have to stay the hell away from me. Completely." He tried to protest, but she snapped her fingers and spoke over his voice, "Completely. I can't afford to be careless. I can't afford to have people think we're conspiring in some way."
Luke ignored Stefan and grabbed her arm, dragging Alexis across the floor until they were out of sight. His eyes probed hers, his fingers bruising her skin. "What the hell are you so afraid of?"
She wiggled out of his tight grasp, shoving his chest with the palm of her hand. She met his intense gaze and whispered, "Falling for you," before turning and walking away.
~*~
He always knew when she was gone. There was a more vibrant color to the sky, a comforting silence in the hallways. He couldn't smell fear or vengeance or hatred. There was a faint trace of Helena’s perfume lingering in every room on the yacht, and as long as she was absent, it didn't sting his nose.
Lucky stepped out of his bedroom, which was smaller than the closet in Helena’s room. He heaved a sigh of relief and walked freely down the hall, swinging his arms at his sides. His feet were able to glide down the sleek carpets. They weren't tripping and stopping short as was often necessary when Helena was around.
“Hello?” Lucky called out, expecting to hear one of the guards order him back to his room. When he was met by silence, a smile twitched on his lips. He stopped outside of Helena’s room and touched the pads of his fingers to the dark, cherry wood door.
Behind him, Andreas cleared his throat. He remained stoned face even as Lucky spun around. “Madame is currently in town, Master Spencer. She is attending to some business at the hospital.”
Lucky nodded. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped as Andreas turned and walked away. Puzzled, Lucky shrugged and turned back to the door. He jiggled the doorknob and was surprised to find that the door eased open without effort.
The room was rather large, a bed pushed against the wall and dark, velvet chairs in two corners. Baskets of fresh flowers adorned the dresser, desk and round table at the center of the room. A tall mirror occupied almost the entire space of one wall. Lucky snickered and rolled his eyes.
Circling around the room, he searched his memory for images of what he had seen the other times he had been inside Helena’s bedroom. He tried to remember boxes tucked away in the closet or boxes that could only be opened with a key pushed deep inside drawers.
Lucky swung the closet doors open. Visible behind the hanging dresses were four short legs of a table. He bent down and rearranged the silky fabrics, lifting the bottoms to see the table’s two drawers. The lock on the bottom drawer was loose, hanging lopsided. He tugged on the handle repeatedly until the drawer slid open. He reached inside and felt the drawer’s contents; a silk scarf, loose photographs, a man’s tie and a book.
He wrapped his fingers around the edge of the book, lifting it from inside the drawer. Lucky moved to the bedroom door and sat down, keeping one eye on the hallway. He opened the book and his eyes widened as he realized it was a journal. Helena’s journal.
The book was thick and heavy. As he flipped the pages, the smell of crisp and antique paper reached his nose. Every stark white page was blank, the edges yellowing. But in the middle of the journal was one page filled with words and phrases. Lucky's eyes were moving too fast to concentrate, too frantically to read anything. To make sense of anything. He saw the names of people in his life; Luke, Laura, Stefan, Nikolas, Alexis, Stavros. He saw his name in front of and behind words like "teach," "manipulate," "memory," "steal," and "murder."
Lucky heard feet rustling over carpet and quickly slammed the book shut. He threw it in the drawer and rearranged the dresses hanging in the closet, straightening everything out. He tripped to the door and realized it had only been Andreas fixing himself a drink.
He stood in the doorway, his heart racing. Beads of sweat dripped down the bridge of his nose and rolled down his red cheeks. Just as memories he had tucked away long ago found their way back into his mind, the memory of Alexis pleading with him the night he broke into the penthouse came rushing back at him. "You left because you knew she was hurting you! You left because a part of you remembers you're life here, and how happy you were. I can help you find that again if you just tell me that Helena faked your death and forced you to follow her command," she had shouted. Begged. Her voice scratchy, her fists clenched as she proved her concern. And now Lucky was beginning to regret that he didn't listen to her. He was regretting that he ran away and back into Helena's clutches.
Lucky reached for the phone, squeezing it between his fingers. He suddenly didn't care if Helena ever found out. He pounded his free hand against his forehead as he tried to remember Alexis' phone number. He had found it out before breaking into the penthouse. He had scribbled it on napkins after he finished cleaning it at the bar, scratched a pen over the marble counter top to rehearse the numbers. And now, when Lucky needed it most, his mind was blank.
"Dammit," he cursed, the sound of Helena's voice reaching his ears. He dropped the phone and realized he didn't have enough time to shut the bedroom door and reach his own room before she would see him. He wiped his hands over his moist face and raked his fingers through his hair. Lucky stood at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall wooden post.
She wasn't shocked or jumping to conclusions when she saw him. It wasn't the first time Helena had ever found Lucky waiting in her bedroom. He was often waiting to apologize, to ask a question or simply because he was lonely. She walked toward him and nodded, waiting for his explanation.
"I had time to do some thinking," he told her. "I realized that ever since I made the decision to come back to you, I wasn't completely here. And that's wrong. I'm going to change that. I made my decision and now... I'm here. Completely."
A satisfied smile played on Helena's lips. She extended her arms, her hands framing his cheeks. Her palms were cold against his warm skin. "I'm very happy to hear that," she said proudly. "I was beginning to worry. Now we can finish what we started. Now you can correct your mistakes."
She drew Lucky into an embrace. His body was resting stiffly against her's. He had been held in her arms before, a motherly hug or one to prove her power. But this was different. There was something more menacing. More lethal. But as Lucky's mind began to devise plans and find it's own power, he couldn't decide who's arms were holding the most danger.