Chapter Twelve
Andreas lies listlessly on his disheveled motel bed, his limp hand falling off the side and fingers twitching every once in awhile. His other arm drapes over his face, covering it from the world. He hasn’t moved at all in about four hours. In fact, he hasn’t left the motel room or eaten in two days. The Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the door keeps the nosy maids away. He’d paid for a full week’s stay, so no one bothers him. At dawn, he had risen creakily to shut the curtains tighter against the insistent sun, his preference being total darkness.
Andreas’ mind continually goes back to the past in an attempt to understand the unbelievable.
*** A fourteen year old Ari anxiously tugs on his twin brother’s arm. "Andreas," he whispers tensely. "What did Madam want? Why are we living here now? I want to go back to boarding school," his voice wavers. Andreas sets his face to stone and turns to face his brother.
"Nothing, Ari. Forget it," he replies sharply. "We live here now and nothing will change that. Make the best of it. Now go knock on the door. Madam is waiting for you. She will be angry if you delay." As Ari knocks and enters the opened door, Andreas walks over to a corner in the hallway of the palatial Greek mansion, places his hands on the cream stuccoed walls and bows his head. The hall is open to the outdoors, and a sweet, calm breeze blows repeatedly and softly over his sad face, cooling the hot tears dripping fat and heavy from his downturned eyes. He wraps his arms around his middle and hugs himself tightly. He thinks of Ari and what must be going on right about now. Andreas raises his fists and pounds the walls until his hands are torn and bloody. He could not save himself, how can he save his weaker brother? Andreas recalls the tight ropes that Madam had tied him with and the feel of a gold-bladed jeweled knife against his gasping, exposed throat. It isn’t really rape if a woman forces you, is it? he wonders.
.
.
.
The next day, Andreas endures the torture of branding. It takes three strong guards to hold him down flat on his face, and he struggles mightily as the fiery hot brand descends toward the waiting flesh of his exposed shoulder. The Cassadine crest becomes part of his flesh and blood, and his soul burns with the same twisting agony as his searing, smoking skin.
.
.
.
Years later, Andreas falls back onto the piled pillows of Madam’s palatial bed after his latest orgasmic performance. As he pants, lying on his back with sweat dripping down his broad, smooth chest, Helena reaches over to him with an elegantly manicured hand and scrapes him sharply with a long, red fingernail from his collarbone to the bony plate over his heart. "You’re a better lover than your brother ever was," she purrs wickedly as she gazes at him with her hooded green eyes. Andreas slowly opens his eyes and looks at her quizzically for her use of the past tense. Ari is on the yacht with them, in the adjoining room. What is Madam talking about? ***
Andreas rises angrily from the motel bed with a harsh, jerky movement. His memories clear away the depression and infuse him with a manic energy. The only activity that takes away the painful of years of humiliation, abuse and torture is murder, and Andreas is very anxious to relieve his pain. He smiles a lopsided grin that never quite reaches his eyes as he flexes his gloved hands and searches for another murder weapon. He knows whom he intends to visit tonight.
~*~*~*~
Mac stares at Stefan with his mouth hanging open in surprise. Stefan seems oddly detached, as if he doesn’t care that Nikolas is dead. Mac recalls the scene at the PCPD when Nikolas was brought in with murder charges. Stefan was so protective and concerned. What’s changed? Mac blinks his eyes, refocusing on the present, and answers Stefan’s question.
"The coroner’s report will be on my desk in two days," he replies. "Would you like a copy of the report?"
"Yes, thank you," says Stefan politely. Good, he thinks. That will give me two days to smuggle Nikolas out of the country. The Cassadines do not have a strong presence in Australia. We can find solace there and escape this ridiculous American justice system. How did it all come to this? Helena is dead, and Nikolas is suffering the same illness as his uncle. I must find a way to help him. Revenge on the Spencers can wait.
Alexis looks concerned. "Stefan," she says, touching him on the arm.
Stefan flinches and rubs his forehead.
"Can I pour you a brandy, brother?"
"A brandy would be nice, Alexis," Stefan says in a leaden tone of voice. Stefan turns his attention to Mac. "Commissioner, have you told the boy’s mother yet?"
Mac shakes his head "No, I wanted to notify you first. I should be on my way now to tell Laura." Mac turns to exit Wyndemere, but Stefan stands abruptly.
"I would like to be the one to tell Laura," Stefan says. "Nikolas is our child, and I can help her to accept this."
Mac looks curiously at Stefan. Everyone knows Stefan is Nikolas' uncle, but a true father figure to the boy, so Mac lets the comment pass.
Mac nods as he crosses the doorway and says, "Please tell Laura to call me if she has any questions I can answer or if she just wants to talk."
Stefan places his hand on the massive front door and says, "Yes, I will. Thank you for stopping by, Commissioner. Good evening."
Mac searches Stefan’s face once more for a clue to something that bothers him, an unformed question that stays at the back of his mind, too tentative to surface. Mac shakes his head and walks to his car.
As Mac opens his car door, another vehicle approaches and parks next to his. A woman in a nurse’s white uniform exits the car with a medical bag in hand. Mac watches as she walks to Wyndemere’s front porch, rings the bell and enters the front door as Stefan welcomes her into the house. Must be Stefan’s private nurse, he thinks. She’s come to take care of his cut. Heaven forbid a Cassadine should visit a doc-in-a-box.
~*~*~*~
Alexis frowns at Stefan while handing him a crystal goblet full of fine, aged brandy. "It would have been much easier to allow Mac Scorpio to tell Laura about Nikolas. Why set yourself up for disaster? You know Luke and Laura have been camped out by Lucky’s bedside. And, remember, Lucky was badly injured by both Helena and Andreas. Luke and Laura are bound to blame us, too."
I can never tell Alexis about Nikolas, thinks Stefan. She’s too tied to Port Charles and its citizens, Ned Ashton in particular. Stefan makes a sour face. The doorbell rings again, and he allows Nurse Christy Chambers to enter. Stefan leans close to her ear and whispers, "Say nothing about the situation while my sister is here. Pretend like you’re bandaging my cuts."
Stefan’s breath lightly rustles Christy’s shining hair, and his medallion lightly hits her chest as he leans toward her. A little shocking frison of pleasure sizzles up her spine as she looks closely into her employer’s intense eyes. "Of course," she says as she slips past him and lays her medical bag on the sofa.
"Come over here by the light so I can see your wound," Nurse Christy says.
Stefan sits down obediently. He winces as she applies alcohol to his deep scrape and cleans it gently. "I don’t think you’ll need stitches," she explains while applying gauze to the wound. "It will heal nicely if you keep it clean and protected. Is your shoulder okay?" she asks, glancing at the roughly ripped seam of Stefan’s elegant garment.
"Yes, I caught the fabric when I fell, but no damage was done," he adds.
Stefan addresses Alexis, who is starting to look bored and a bit antsy. "You can return home to Ned, Alexis. I appreciate you stopping by to tell me about Nikolas. Although I am deeply saddened, I will be fine by myself tonight."
Alexis quirks an eyebrow and looks in Nurse Christy’s direction. "Umm…sure, Stefan. Ned is expecting me. Call me tomorrow morning and let me know if I can help in any way. Good luck with Laura."
Stefan reaches out his hand to Alexis, who takes it and places her other hand on top of his. "Thank you, sister. I won’t forget your kindness."
Alexis bends over to kiss his forehead. "Anytime brother," she whispers, and then turns to leave.
Stefan’s steely gaze watches her every movement until she exits the house. He looks up into Nurse Christy’s eyes, smiles and says, "Now, where were we?"
~*~*~*~
Luke slowly wheels Todd toward Lucky’s hospital room. The wheelchair has a bad wheel that squeaks and squeals, and Todd gets irritated and makes puffing noises with his mouth as he frowns. "Can you speed this up, you slow-poke," he whines.
Luke forcefully pushes Todd’s chair, which picks up a lightning speed and slams into the doorjamb, nearly knocking Todd out of the chair. "There," says Luke soothingly. "Is that quick enough for you?"
"You’re crazy!"
"Like a mongoose," Luke replies, winking.
"And you mix your metaphors, too," mutters Todd under his breath.
"Mix this!" yells Luke as he whaps Todd upside the head with the flat of his hand.
"NOT THE HEAD!" yells Todd angrily. "HOW many times do I have to tell you that?" Todd frantically rearranges his custom comb-over courtesy of his ex-wife Blair. He uses his fingers to pull over more hair to cover his obviously shaved bald spot which sports an amusing five ‘o clock shadow.
Luke leans down close to Todd’s ear. "You be good to my boy," he says. "Or I’ll shave the rest of your head bald."
Todd shoots him an annoyed look. "Whatever."
Lucky looks up and smiles as Todd wheels toward his bed. Todd high-fives Lucky’s outstretched hand. In a rare gesture that makes his face muscles creak, Todd smiles. He points to the laptop he’s holding and places it on the bedside tray. He rapidly types and then turns it toward Lucky.
SEE ANY GREEK GOONS LATELY?
Lucky’s face turns red as his mouth turns down. He tries to sit up, but feels weak and starts swaying. Todd reaches out and takes him by the arm, holding Lucky steady until he can catch his balance. Lucky’s eyes darken and look over at Todd. He gives Todd a grim smile as he starts typing.
NO. WANT TO GO GOON HUNTING?
Lucky’s determined face meets Todd’s amused one. Luke nods, satisfied that Todd is connecting in a positive way with his son. "I’ll leave you two for a few minutes," he says to Todd as he heads for the door.
Todd grabs the laptop and types.
READY TO BREAK OUT OF HERE?
Lucky’s blue eyes sparkle and he says, "You bet." Lucky starts laughing loud and hard and points at Todd’s head. "What happened to you? Did you get scalped?"
Todd looks angry and shakes his head. He types furiously. DAMN ANDREAS
Lucky chuckles as he types a reply. NO, DEAD ANDREAS
Todd’s eyes narrow, and he grins as wickedly as he can with multiple bandages and no scar. He nods and types. BE READY TONITE
Todd closes the laptop, and the two friends look intensely at each other. Todd raises an eyebrow, and Lucky nods.
~*~*~*~
Sonny reclines in the large whirlpool two-seater tub in the Penthouse master bathroom. The water is extra hot, and steam coils above the copious bubbles that fill the marble tub. Sonny lazily scoops up some bubbles and blows them out of his hand with a gentle breath, mesmerized by their rainbow sparkles in the soft, warm candlelight.
Carly enters the bathroom and turns the dimmer switch to its lowest setting. She’s wearing the shimmering pink merry widow that Sonny inadvertently picked up at Victoria’s Secret on his hasty exit from the store. Sonny wordlessly looks at his pretty, blond wife, but his eyes betray the passion that simmers deep within.
Carly points toward the garment and asks suggestively, "Do you like?" When Sonny nods, never taking his eyes from her body, she pulls on the ribbon that entwines the bodice together and unravels the seam, pausing only to free her shoulders from the two straps the hold the garment to her body. Stepping out of the lingerie, she throws it on top of Sonny’s head and laughs. "Then it’s yours," she says as she slips into the tub and gasps at the roiling heat.
Sonny takes the lingerie, holds it closely to his face for a second, and then throws it to the side of the tub.
Carly jumps and squeals when Sonny’s foot encounters a more intimate portion of her anatomy. She bats at the offending foot underwater and laughs, "Get that thing away from me!"
Sonny replies without emotion, "What thing?"
Carly yanks Sonny’s foot high above the water and shakes it. "This thing," she snickers as she grasps it firmly and tortures him by tickling the sole of his foot.
Sonny slips further down the tub and his face is almost submerged. "Hey!" he shouts playfully, throwing a handful of bubbles in Carly’s face. "Do you want to make love or make war?" he asks with a pout.
"What do you think?" she replies with a snaking hand crawling through the water and up the full length of his leg.
"Who’s thinking," Sonny groans as he leans in to kiss her.
~*~*~*~
Sonny stands over his sleeping wife, and gently moves her tossled hair away from her face. He places a tiny kiss on her cheek and watches as she subconsciously reacts by squirming deeper into the satin sheets. He quietly moves toward the door and silently leaves the bedroom. On the stair landing, he checks his gun that is strapped to his calf. It is fully loaded, and the safety is off. Sonny walks down the stairs and exits the front door. Outside the door, his hand rests on the paneled surface, and he appears lost in thought with his head bent down. He quickly turns and walks over to the elevator, hitting the down button with an impatient thumb. His eyes are hard and cold.
Todd and Lucky - canned
Nurse Christy's bitter medicine
Stavros gets wicked
Laura's torment