Chapter Twenty

“This has to be the best part of a wedding,” Emily stated as she closed her eyes, leaning back as the hair stylist washed the conditioner out of her hair.

Elizabeth giggled from her spot next to her. “You mean when we have to sit in a chair for hours while professionals make us look beautiful?” she asked, her eyes already closed as the water showered down on her hair.

When Elizabeth showed up on her doorstep at six in the morning, Emily nearly killed the woman for interrupting her much needed sleep. That was before Elizabeth said that the hair stylist would be coloring their hair.

After the water was cut off and towels were wrapped around their hair, both women were ushered into chairs. Elizabeth felt the tension of the last two months begin to wear off and she finally relaxed.

Something she knew wouldn’t last long. Walking down the aisle toward the man she intended to marry was going to be stomach-clenching nerve wrecking. But she was going to do it. No way was she going to let Jason Morgan get away this time.

She had lost him twice already; she wasn’t going to allow it to happen again.

“Okay, ladies,” announced the hair specialist as he walked into the room. “Let’s make these gals beautiful.”

Emily and Elizabeth took one look at each other before bursting into laughter.


“I cannot…believe…you got me and the kids into this.”

Jason turned to give his friend a glare before managing to grab onto the arm of the man that threatened to make him bald. “You touch my hair, you’re a dead man,” he stated, his voice sharp.

Nikolas put a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing, but that didn’t stop Spencer, or Cameron for that matter. With Spencer having turned one he knew it was time for his first haircut.

Of course, it took nearly an hour to get the kid to stop crying and sit still for two seconds. Cameron on the other hand just sat there and allowed the stylist to work his magic.

He had been next. And when it came to Jason’s turn, the stylist wanted to do something different for a change and had mentioned getting rid of the spikey-do. Which had been a mistake, and for the next ten minutes Jason had been fighting him off.

“Dude,” started Nikolas, holding up his hand.

The stylist turned with scissors in hand. “The name is Juan, not dude. Who do I look like, your mother?”

Nikolas raised an eyebrow. “Look…Juan. Jason wants to keep the hair, can you just cut it a little?” he asked.

“I don’t know why he wants to keep it. It’s in the past, ten years in fact,” argued Juan.

Jason turned his glare on the man. “Don’t make me get up…” he warned.

Moving from his chair, Nikolas pushed himself in front of Jason. “I’ll pay you extra if you just give him the cut.”

Juan rolled his eyes. “It’s his loss,” he muttered before pushing his way past Nikolas and began the cut, cursing in Spanish.

“God, could this day get any worse?” Nikolas asked himself as he rubbed his face before moving back over to the kids.


Alice had seen a lot in her day working for the Quartermaine’s for more years than she could admit to.

But this had to top the cake.

She had never really cared for Tracy Quartermaine. Had thought the woman self-centered and catty. In her days in the mansion, she had never once seen the other woman show any emotions when it came to her sons.

In fact, she hadn’t seen any emotion for her brother either. Until the day that Alan had died.

Tracy wouldn’t admit to missing him, but when Tracy thought she was alone, Alice had seen her shed tears for her beloved brother.

Now that love had seemed to disappear along with Tracy’s sense of fashion.

“Please tell me you are not wearing that,” came the voice of the woman of the house. It was as if Monica knew what she was thinking, and had decided to voice it for her.

Shivering, Alice began to move around the room, making sure every thing was in place. After the wedding, the reception would take place at the house.

Alice just wanted to make sure that there was nothing missing. She listened to the banter going back and forth between both of the Quartermaine women.

Moving over to the wet bar, Tracy poured a glass of brandy and swallowed it whole. “What’s wrong with it?” she asked, making a face as the liquid created a fire down her throat all the way to her stomach.

Just the way she liked it.

“What’s wrong with it?” cried Monica pointing to the hideous piece of fabric that Tracy called a dress. “You look like you’re going to a funeral!”

Tracy shrugged, pouring herself another drink. “And what if I am?”

Monica folded her arms. “I will not let you destroy this wedding, Tracy. So either get dressed, or you are not coming.”

“Since when did God make you the say all, end all?” she snapped, turning to her former sister-in-law. “You don’t own me!”

This is my son’s wedding day. And for the past week you have been going on and on about what a disaster it’s going to be.”

Taking another drink, Tracy sighed. “That’s where you’re right. This is going to be a disaster. One very big disaster! Since when do Mob Enforcers get married? Oh! Wait, I forgot about Courtney!”

Rubbing the edges of her temples, Monica groaned. “Why did I even invite you?” she asked.

“Uhm…you didn’t. I invited myself,” laughed Tracy as she began walking toward the door. “I want to be in the front-row seat when this charade of a marriage goes downhill.”

Monica turned her head, watching Tracy. “You do anything to ruin this wedding,” she started.

“Don’t worry!” Tracy interrupted. “I wouldn’t ruin your precious day. No, your son will do the damage.”

As she left, Monica turned to Alice and shook her head. “This is going to be a disaster even before it starts,” she exclaimed, frustrated already.

Alice shrugged. “I could lock her in the closet again,” she offered.

“No. Cook was upset the last time we did that. Let’s just hope the little witch changes. Otherwise I’ll just have to tell her that she isn’t allowed in the pictures.”

Snorting, Alice shook her head. “Good luck with that!”

Shaking her head once again, Monica sighed and left the room. She still had things to prepare before they all left for the church.


With their hair, and the manicure and pedicure done, Elizabeth and Emily were rushed to the church where they finished their preparations.

“Why aren’t they here yet?” asked Elizabeth, moving back and forth across the room.

She was nervous. It was ten after eleven in the morning, and the wedding was at twelve thirty. The dresses should have arrived an hour before they had arrived.

Looking up from her position in the chair, Emily watched as her best friend moved about the room. “You are so going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“I am not!” snapped Elizabeth, turning to march in another direction.

“You’re snapping!”

“And you’re being annoying,” Elizabeth sang along before stopping in her tracks. “Am I that bad?”

Emily nodded taking her friend’s hand in hers and pulling her down into the chair next to her. “If you don’t calm down you are going to have a panic attack.”

Closing her eyes, Elizabeth let out a breath and let her shoulders sag.

“I just want this day to go as planned,” she mumbled, rubbing her hands together. With the make-up in place and her hair all done, she couldn’t risk ruining it.

Which brought a smile to her face. Jason, she thought. It was a trait she had been learning from him.

Leaning over, Emily tilted her friend’s face up. “Weddings never go as planned. It’s only been an hour. The dresses will be here soon, and all we need to do is get you dressed.”

“And then I can walk down the aisle,” said Elizabeth, and then she made a face. “I’ll probably fall flat on my face.”

Emily grinned. “Then we can laugh at the video every time we watch it.”

Letting out a groan, Elizabeth dropped her head into her hands. “Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?”


The room was dark as Epiphany entered it, a frown firmly in place. They were going to be late.

She didn’t much care for Jason Morgan in the beginning, but lately Jason had been changing. Since the death of Sonny Corinthos, Jason had been making changes to the business that her son was a part of.

Epiphany no longer worried if her son was going to be coming home at night. She no longer feared for his safety.

Except for today.

Stanley had been acting weirdly as the wedding date grew ever closer. He wouldn’t talk to her, tell her what was wrong, and by the time she could figure out anything – Stan would seclude himself in his room.

Today she was through. No more giving him time to come around on his own. No more closed doors, or weird phone calls.

She had finally had enough.

“Stanley,” she announced, her voice snappy as she turned on the lights.

Epiphany raised an eyebrow when her son practically fell out of the bed.

Glaring hatefully at the light, Stan moved from his position on the floor, and barely had enough time to get out a half breath before his mother started in on him again.

“I have been patient with you, I have left you alone, I have turned my head every time you had one of those calls! Hell, I even kept my distance on wanting you to clean your room, which looks like a pig stye by the way…” started Epiphany.

Stan opened his mouth to speak.

Epiphany put her hand up. “I have been patient with you, my boy, but enough is enough…”


“…I have cooked for you, I have cleaned for you, and I have tried to be your mother…”

“You are my…”

“…but enough is enough. Stanley you are going to this wedding even if I have to drag you in there with my bare hands!” finished Epiphany. “Now get yourself into that bathroom right now and wash up. And clean this pig-stye of a bedroom before we leave!”

Stan stood there with his eyes wide, his mouth still open.

Glaring at her son, Epiphany moved forward. “What did I just say, do I have to draw it out for you? GET A MOVE ON!” she practically screamed at him.

Jumping, and nearly falling, Stan managed to grab his suit from the chair near his laptop. “Yes, ma’am…” he started as he moved past his mother to get to the bathroom.

“Don’t you dare take that tone of voice with me, Stanley. I will slap that little hide of yours from Timbucktu! Now run!”

All he could manage was a small yell as he was kicked into the bathroom, his mother continuing to yell after him.


Jason straightened the tie once more and tried to take a deep breath. He nearly ripped off the thing a second later.

“Have you always been this way?” asked Nikolas, walking from the bathroom in his tux, tie perfectly in place.

Glaring at his friend, Jason tugged at the tie once more. “It’s hard to breath in this thing,” he muttered, half to himself.

Nikolas grinned and walked over. “That’s because you haven’t learned the trick,” he said, grabbing onto Jason’s hands and batting them away from the tie.

“And what trick is that?”

“Watch, and learn.”

Nikolas straightened the tie expertly as Jason managed to break eye contact to look up at the man that had slowly become one of the best friend’s he could ever have, considering their differences over the years.

It had all started with Elizabeth. Back in the day, Nikolas had feelings for Elizabeth, and then he had been protecting Elizabeth because Lucky had asked him too. So the two had never really been that close.

Not until Nikolas had fallen in love with Emily, did Jason really give the man a chance. When his sister had been dying, Nikolas had been by her side and they had been inseparable since.

Except when there had been Courtney and Sonny, but even that didn’t keep them away from one another, especially when Spencer had come into both of their lives.

Looking over at the sleeping boy, Jason had to smile. Nikolas was one lucky SOB.


Jason looked down at his chest and frowned. “I can breathe,” he said in slight astonishment. “But how…”

Nikolas held up the tie. “I switched it out for the fake,” he said.

“You mean for all these years Nikolas Cassadine has been a fake?”

“You could say that.”

Jason burst into laughter.


He eyed the room full of family and old friends with disgust. Nothing, he thought to himself. They are nothing to me anymore.

Staying to the shadows, Lucky moved almost fluidly through the halls he learned to navigate over the past two months. And not just because he was here to talk to God, he was done talking to him. Lucky didn’t need him as far as he was concerned.

Just another person to blame for taking his life away – his family…his friends…everyone he ever loved.

Fresh anger rushed through him, making him sway. Putting a hand out to the wall, he tried to control the shaking. It had started over a month ago, starting little – his hand shaking, then his arm. The shaking had gotten more frequent after that, putting him into such a state where, if he didn’t get any sleep regularly, he couldn’t move. He would just lie on the cot he had been laying on since he had disappeared.

And he would wait for it to pass.

It gave Lucky time to think of the past he was throwing away. Of the position he had led as a cop at the PCPD. Of the wife and child he had lost.

Lucky knew he had been pushing Elizabeth away, but he hadn’t expected for her to go running into the arms of the one man that could never escape their relationship. The one man that Lucky could never even match up to – never even had time to, or the will to.

The hand against the wall turned into a fist, leaving Lucky in such a state of anger – he nearly crumbled to the floor. He couldn’t lose it now!

Jason Morgan still had to pay. Pay for the damage he had caused Lucky and his family.

For stealing the woman that was his.

Taking a deep breath Lucky let go of the wall that was supporting him, and took out his cell. Once the other line was answered, Lucky was back into full throttle.

“I want you at the church. I have one more thing I have to finish,” he said before clapping the phone shut, and shaking his head. The fog that had been creating havoc over him lessened to a dull throb.

Letting him do what he needed to do – had to do.

Almost time.

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