Brenda did indeed get sick as they landed and then again soon after they deplaned, which had actually worked to their advantage when they’d handed their papers to the official waiting for them at the gate. The official had felt great sympathy for Brenda, as a fellow sufferer of traveler’s malaise, and had barely glanced at their passports, other than to note that they were all Americans.

Since their intent now was to draw Cordoba’s attention to them - or at least to Chuck, as Jax - they’d stashed their forged passports and used their real ones, including Brenda’s, which Jax had carried with him from the start of this chase, back in Port Charles a week ago. Jax and Chuck had traded passports, but the official hadn’t even noticed. Jax had worried how they would explain to Brenda that they had a passport for her with her picture on it, especially a picture of her with long hair, but Brenda had been too sick to even notice what name or picture was on the passport they’d used for her and too grateful to finally be in America to question anything.

Chuck had been able to contact Tim Henson, his pilot friend who owned the plane they’d used to escape the Bahamas, and Tim had arranged for a rental car to be waiting at the Dade County airport for Jax and Brenda to use. Tim had also generously offered Jax and Brenda the use of the two-bedroom cottage he owned on Big Pine Key, and Jax had jumped at the offer, promising to reimburse Tim for his generosity, as well as his discretion as to where they were. Tim had readily agreed and had even offered to have the place stocked with food, as well as provide a cover story for them. He promised to spread the word that they were newlyweds, and they wanted as much privacy as possible, which would keep the neighbors away for the duration. But most of the lifers on the islands ferociously protected their own privacy and respected the privacy of others there, too, so Tim doubted anyone would bother Jax and Brenda while they were there.

Despite the fact that Chuck didn’t plan to take off for Port Charles for several hours (to arrive in Port Charles in the middle of the night, in accordance with their plan), he distanced himself immediately from Jax and Brenda and boarded the waiting jet soon after landing. He told Jax that he planned to sleep for a few hours, then spend the flight time to PC getting into character by “practicing being handsome, charming, and sincere in front of the mirror.” He then promised to call Jax after he left PC for Kronos to let him know how their ruse had worked, and wished Jax luck with Brenda, telling him that he hoped the next time they all saw each other again that Brenda would have remembered everything. They’d then parted company, with Chuck boarding the sleek Lear jet, while Jax waited for Brenda just outside the tiny airport’s lone unisex bathroom.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay now?” Jax asked, as Brenda finally emerged from the bathroom after nearly fifteen minutes.

“It’s just a little motion sickness,” she lied, avoiding looking at him. “I should know better than to travel on an empty stomach,” she added, smiling wanly.

Jax didn’t say anything, but he thought she looked like hell. Her skin was pale, with blotches of red across her cheeks. She had her sunglasses back on now and had donned her baseball cap and pulled it down, presumably in an attempt to hide how ill she looked. In his opinion, this was no simple case of motion sickness brought on by lack of food and too much coffee. Her racing heart, her nausea, and her pallor all seemed to be tied together, and it had him worried.

She felt uncomfortable at the way he was staring at her. She had the feeling that he suspected that she had something more than motion sickness, but she didn’t really want to have to deal with any of that just yet - especially not in such a public place as this. She needed to draw his attention away from her and fast. “So, where’s Chuck?” she asked, leaning against the wall for support as she glanced around the tiny airport but saw no sign of Jax’s friend, who’d just flown them there from the Bahamas.

“He had places to go and people to see,” Jax replied, “but he did want me to tell you goodbye and wish you luck in your quest.”

“Chuck did seem like a man in a hurry,” she nodded absently.

“Speaking of hurrying, we should probably be going, too,” Jax urged. The place was small and empty, so he didn’t think they were in any danger of being recognized, but he didn’t want to chance that anyway. The plan was to have Cordoba think they had flown out on the jet and that plan would be blown if anyone saw them here together or getting into the car that was waiting outside. “I rented a car - it’s this way,” he informed her, motioning toward a side door that led to the parking lot. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“Ummm… it’s not that far. I can hobble there on my own - as long as you don’t mind if I lean against you - and you don’t walk too fast,” she replied.

“Okay, but at least let me carry that backpack,” Jax offered, extending his hand to take it from her.

She hesitated slightly, then handed it to him and leaned into his embrace as he lifted his left arm to wrap around her. She wrapped her right arm around his waist, and they moved slowly toward the exit. Once again she felt a sense of familiarity at this - like they had walked arm-in-arm like this together many times. Yet that was impossible...

Jax was feeling the familiarity of holding her like this, too, and he knew that he could easily get lost in that feeling, but he had to keep himself focused now - at least until they were at a less public place than this. “We didn’t get a chance to discuss where we’d go once we landed. A friend offered me the use of his cottage on Big Pine Key, but it’s about a two-hour drive from here,” Jax said, as they finally reached the door. “Are you up for that - or would you prefer we get a couple of rooms around here for the night - give yourself a chance to rest before we travel any further?”

“I’m all for getting away from here as quickly as possible,” she replied, as she extricated herself from him and leaned against the doorway. “Ummm… Big Pine Key… isn’t that one of the Florida Keys?” she asked quietly, glancing around to make sure they were still alone. They were.

He nodded.

“I thought we’d be getting away - far away. I mean, I’m kinda fuzzy on my geography, but aren’t the Florida Keys extremely close to the Bahamas?” she pressed anxiously.

“Extremely,” he replied quietly. He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this, but he let her continue anyway.

“Listen, I was serious when I said that Armand was a dangerous man and that he’d hunt me down and take me back with him - and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you in the process,” she warned him, her voice low and trembling. The last thing she wanted was for them to be easy targets.

“I know,” he nodded.

“Then why are you making it so easy for him to find us?” she demanded.

“I’m not.” When he saw that she was set to argue with him again, he added: “If you knew that someone was trying to get away from you, where would you assume they’d go?”

She hesitated for a moment, wrinkling her brow as she pondered his question. Then a small smile lit her face as she replied: “As far away as possible and as fast as possible…”

“Exactly,” Jax grinned, “that’s why we’re staying nearby. Cordoba will probably figure you came here to the States once he realizes that you’ve fled the Bahamas, since it is the closest country. But I’d bet everything I own that he’ll concentrate his resources somewhere other than Florida and the Keys, simply because they are so close. Besides, I have the feeling that Cordoba knows who you really are and where you belong, so I think he’ll concentrate his efforts to find you there.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked suspiciously.

Jax realized that he needed to watch what he said. As much as he wanted her to know who he really was to her, he knew that that revelation needed to come when her mind was ready, not simply because he was not being careful. “Because you said he was a rich and powerful man - and very much a man in control. How could he not know who you really are and where you really belonged?”

That made sense to her. If she really wasn’t Veronica Devereaux - and her instincts told her she wasn’t - then Armand had to know who she really was. But why would he make up an identity and a past for her and claim they were lovers? This was all too confusing for her, and the anxiety she was feeling now suddenly made her feel queasy again, and she leaned forward slightly, crossing her arms over her stomach in an effort to ease the feeling.

“Are you sure you’re up for this trip?” Jax asked, when he saw her grimace and hold her stomach again.

“I’ll be okay - I just need a little something to settle my stomach,” she assured him.

“There’s a soda machine just over there,” Jax pointed out, nodding toward the corner. “Maybe a soda would help…”

“A gingerale sounds good,” she nodded, hoping that would finally settle her stomach.

“One gingerale coming right up,” he smiled, as he headed to the machine. He was back in less than thirty seconds.

“Thanks,” she smiled, as he handed her the gingerale. “I think I’ll save it for the car.”

“Okay,” Jax nodded. “The car’s over there,” he said, pointing to the late model black Jeep Wrangler Sahara that was parked at the far end of the parking lot. “Now, I wouldn’t want to seem pushy again, but it might be easier - and faster - if I carry you there from here. It’s a pretty good distance, and hopping like this can’t be good for your other leg.”

She chewed her bottom lip for a moment as she thought over his offer. She knew he was right: this hopping on her good leg was very slow and extremely tiring for her. But on the other hand, she hated for him to carry her because she got this feeling inside each time that he did it, like this was somehow familiar and right. It was disconcerting, given the fact that she’d just met the man a few hours ago. And she’d promised herself on the plane that she would limit contact like that with him, given the fact that he did make her feel so unbelievably tingly all over when he held her like that. It was bad enough having his arm around her as it had been - and hers around him… But still, letting him carry her would probably give them less prolonged contact than walking with him holding her up, as they had been. Besides, she really was feeling incredibly tired now. “Okay,” she finally conceded.

He scooped her up and pushed open the door, taking them back out into the heat of the late afternoon Florida sun. Despite the fact that she was wearing dark glasses, he noticed that she blanched at the brightness, immediately shielding her eyes by cupping a hand over them. He also noticed that, despite wearing a zipped sweatshirt, she shivered as the light breeze hit them. It was well over 80 and steamy; the same storm that had hit them in the Bahamas had also hit here, and coming from the cool of the small, air-conditioned building to the outside was like walking into a sauna. Yet she was shivering. Something was definitely wrong here.

They were at the car in no time, and he quickly set her in the passenger side of the front seat and moved to buckle her in. “I think I can handle this by myself,” she chided him, grabbing the shoulder belt and pulling it from his grasp.

Suppressing a grin, he nodded and ran around to the driver’s side, quickly getting in and buckling up. But before he could put the key into the ignition to start the vehicle, she grabbed his arm and whispered hoarsely: “Oh, god! It’s him! He’s here!”

Puzzled, he looked over to see her staring out her window at the hangar area just beyond the fence, a horrified expression on her face. “What?” he asked, but as he followed her gaze, he realized that she was looking at the rented Lear jet that was set to take Chuck to Port Charles later. She had evidently mistaken it for Cordoba’s jet. “Hey, it’s okay,” he assured her, gently turning her face toward him.

“No, it’s not okay!” she gasped, near panic as she frantically reached for the keys to start the engine. “That’s his jet! He’s here - and he’ll kill you if he catches us together! And he’ll drag me back with him! We have to leave now - please!” she begged, on the verge of tears now.

“Shhhh….” Jax soothed. “It’s not Cordoba’s jet - I promise…”

“It is! I know it!” she sobbed, her eyes wild with fear. “Please, we have to go now! I can’t go back with him!”

Jax was overcome with both anger and pain: anger, at Cordoba for inspiring such fear in Brenda; and pain, for Brenda for the hell she must have felt every minute of every day since coming out of that coma months ago. But right now he just needed to calm her hysteria.

“Look at me,” he instructed, his voice low and calm, as he once again gently turned her face toward him. “That is not Cordoba’s jet… Think about it… You said yourself that he was out of the country. And you know that he couldn’t have found you this fast even if he had been in the Bahamas when you took off…”

She quieted somewhat then, as his words began to sink in.

“That jet was here when we arrived. Don’t you remember?”

She shook her head no; she’d been so sick when they’d arrived that she couldn’t remember much of anything, beyond Jax carrying her off the plane and to the bathroom.

“Well, it was… Trust me…”

She did. If he said it was here, then it was here.

“Besides, how could Cordoba possibly know where we were headed, let alone get here before we did?”

As she grew calmer, she realized he was making sense, and soon her fears that Armand had found her were quickly overtaken by embarrassment that she had made such a fool of herself, and she covered her face with her hands. “God, you must think I’m crazy!”

He gently pulled her hands away from her face and smiled. “I don’t think you’re crazy,” he assured her, as he gently wiped away the tears on her cheeks, then took her hands in his. “I just think you’re a woman who’s been through a helluva lot today - and a helluva lot over the past couple of years…”

She looked up into his eyes, and she could see the genuine kindness and the sincerity there. He actually meant what he said; he hadn’t just said it to placate her. This man was totally amazing - so unlike anyone she’d ever met before. He was like a dream come true…

A dream come true…

Her dream man…

“Hey, am I complaining about any of this?” he smiled. Just being with you again is the most wonderful thing in the world. I wish I could tell you that - and so much more.

She found herself getting lost in his eyes again. She really did have to stop looking into those eyes - or simply at him, for that matter. She put her glasses back on then and grabbed for her gingerale - simply to have something to hold onto, just in case he tried to take hold of her hands again. “Yes, well… I’ve been totally selfish… I’ve only been thinking about what I need and want. You and Chuck were in the Bahamas for a reason, and I probably messed it up for you when I fell into your lap.”

“As a matter of fact, we’d finally gotten what we were there for, so we were more than ready to leave when we did,” Jax answered truthfully, as he started the engine and backed the Jeep out of its space and headed for the street. He noticed that she was back to looking at the rented Lear as they drove away. “You know, they all look pretty much alike on the outside - those jets.”

“Yeah… I suppose they do,” she conceded, remembering the rows of nearly identical jets she’d seen at many of the airports she and Armand had flown into over the past few months. “I’d just feel better if I knew for sure whose jet that was,” she murmured.

“I can answer that for you,” he said, as he pulled out onto the busy highway.

She looked at him sharply. “How can you possibly know whose jet that is?”

“Because I do,” Jax smiled. “Chuck’s boss arranged for that to fly him home.”

“Chuck’s boss?” she asked, having gotten the impression earlier that they were working together on something in the Bahamas. “Isn’t he your boss, too?”

He smiled at that. “Yes, I guess you could say we work for the same man,” he shrugged, feeling it was simpler to let her think that Chuck’s boss was a third party, rather than him. “Why?”

It was her turn to shrug now, as she casually replied: “It just seemed to me that the two of you were working together… And it also seemed to me that whatever that something was, it probably wasn’t legal.”

“What made you think that it wasn’t legal?” Jax asked, curious as to why she had assumed that.

“Well, for one thing, you left your car in the middle of nowhere to catch a launch that Chuck had already loaded and hidden from sight. You took that to another island, where there was another car waiting for you - also hidden - which you took to a plane that was on some out-of-the-way runway that looked like it hadn’t been used in years,” she pointed out. “And both you and Chuck seemed as anxious to leave the Bahamas as I was.”

“We were,” he nodded, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Well, I trusted you enough to tell you why I was so anxious to leave; I think it’s only fair that you tell me why you and Chuck were in such a hurry to leave, too,” she pressed.

He hesitated momentarily, as he tried to think of a way to tell her essentially the truth without letting her know that getting her back had been their reason for being there in the first place and for getting out when they did.

“Chuck and I were working together to recover something for the man we work for,” Jax stated simply.

“Ah,” she nodded, as she popped open her gingerale and took a sip, “you stole something and needed to make a quick getaway.”

“Actually, we simply took back something that someone had kept from…” Me, he thought. “… our boss … so I don’t see that as stealing - merely reclaiming what was rightfully…” Mine, his heart shouted. “… his,” Jax declared.

She thought for a moment about what he’d just told her. “Was this ‘something’ that you and Chuck reclaimed for your boss valuable?” she asked.

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled as he replied: “Absolutely priceless.”

They drove silently for several minutes after that, with Brenda sipping her gingerale and Jax watching the traffic and watching her. He thought she looked troubled, but he didn’t push her to talk. Finally, she spoke up: “Does this person that you ‘reclaimed’ this priceless something from know that you and Chuck took it from him? … I mean, will he come after you two or will he go after your boss?”

“Well, that depends,” Jax replied tersely.

“Depends on what?” she asked anxiously.

“On whether or not he figures out we’re the ones who have it or if he thinks it’s been taken by someone else,” he replied matter-of-factly. “The man is rich and powerful and I think he has a lot of enemies, so he may suspect one of them first before he finally focuses on me - or rather, my boss,” he corrected himself quickly. “Why do you want to know?” he wondered.

“I’d just hate to see anything happen to you - or Chuck - that’s all,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant about it, but she wanted very much for Jax to be safe. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she needed him to help her find her past, and everything to do with the fact that she genuinely liked him. “So, not only do you need to look over your shoulder because of my problems, but you also need to be looking over your shoulder because of your own problems,” she sighed.

“Like I said before, I’m a big boy and I can take care of myself,” he replied, throwing her a smile.

She nodded, taking another sip of her gingerale as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. “So, if you and Chuck both work for the same man, why did your boss send a jet to pick up just Chuck? Why didn’t he pick up both of you?”

“Because Chuck’s going back to work and I was due a little R&R, which is where we’re headed now,” Jax replied. It wasn’t really a lie, he figured. Chuck was going to be on payroll while he was on Kronos. And Jax planned to enjoy every minute alone at the cottage on Big Pine Key with Brenda. She just didn’t have to know that this trip wasn’t planned all along.

“Some vacation for you - helping a sick, runaway amnesiac find her past,” she murmured.

“Hey, I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy doing more than helping you remember your past,” he smiled. I’m your past - and I want you to remember what we meant to each other - And then I want to show you what you still mean to me.

She was quiet for another minute or so, then she peered at him over the top of her sunglasses as she asked: “What about your girlfriend?”

“My girlfriend?” Jax was taken aback by her question.

She nodded. “When I told you that Julia’s my name, you said that you had a friend named Julia and that you were in love with her sister,” she explained. “I was just wondering if Julia’s sister - the woman you love - will be joining you at the cottage…”

He looked at her for several seconds, then he smiled and answered truthfully, his voice soft and full of longing: “I hope so.”

Her heart nearly broke at the sound of love in his voice just then. He’d whispered it, and it sounded almost like a prayer, and she realized at that moment how much he loved this woman - and she also realized at that moment how much she both hated and envied this woman.

This is totally irrational! she thought, as she felt herself growing more and more jealous of a woman she’d never even met over a man she barely even knew. What is wrong with me?

Jax watched as her lips turned downward, and he wondered what was bothering her. He was about to ask if she was okay, when she blurted out: “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea - my staying with you.”

He was totally lost now. Where had that come from? “We’ve been over this before,” he sighed. “There are people out there who would take advantage of you - take your money, without any intention of helping you. I can help you navigate the legitimate channels of information. I can’t let you try to do this alone.”

“Okay, well, then… I just can’t stay at the cottage with you while we work on this. I should stay someplace else - a hotel. I have my own money; I can pay my own way. I don’t need to be depending on your generosity,” she replied stubbornly, her tone suddenly cool. “Besides, once my ankle is healed and I can walk again on my own, I can take off on my own.”

Jax just stared at her. What had suddenly gotten into her, he wondered? One minute she seemed to be warming to him; she’d even seemed worried about his safety because of his “illegal” activities in the Bahamas. Yet, the next minute, she seemed to be intentionally distancing herself from him; even going so far as to insist on staying at separate facilities and once again announcing her intentions to set out on her own, this time before she’d even found out what she needed to know.

He recognized that some of her reluctance to allow him to help her any more than absolutely necessary was probably due to the fact that, though she trusted him to a degree, she had yet to trust him completely. That stemmed from her childhood years when she’d been abandoned over and over again, both physically and emotionally. She’d learned to distrust at an early age. She’d basically been on her own emotionally since she was a toddler. Her mother had disappeared and been presumed dead when Brenda was only four, and her father had emotionally abandoned her long before that.

She’d called a series of European boarding schools home throughout her childhood and into her teens, with visits to her father’s estate in London permitted only on the occasional holiday, but never for any extended length of time. She’d rarely spent much time with her older sister, Julia - the apple of their father’s eye - until just a few years ago, and that had only been after their father’s death and after Julia had moved to the States to oversee their father’s holdings there. It was as she and Julia had begun to bond that Brenda had slowly been able to believe that others would be there for her and not abandon her. That was when she’d begun to let go of her protective armor of automatic distrust of others.

But then there had been the Sonny Corinthos phase of her life, and what little trust she had begun to develop was quickly destroyed. Over the years of their emotionally abusive relationship, he’d played on her insecurities and her need to feel loved to control her. And in the end, he’d lied to and manipulated Brenda so completely that she fell apart after he left her standing at the altar facing the biggest lie of all: his promise to love and protect her always.

It had taken a lot of time and patience on Jax’s part to help her through that dark time, but they had finally made it through to the other side. She’d slowly learned to trust again - so much so that she knew that she could trust him completely with her life, and that was when she’d proposed to him. It wasn’t long after that that he’d put that ring that she still treasured onto her finger. And it was only weeks after that that she’d gone off the cliff and into the water and had been presumed dead.

The accident and what had happened since between her and Armand Cordoba had evidently destroyed her ability to trust again. And, despite the fact that she had admitted to him that she trusted him, there was evidently a part of her that was still hesitant - and that was okay, he supposed. After all, as Chuck had pointed out, in her conscious mind he was a stranger to her, while Armand Cordoba had been the only fiancé she’d ever known. He only wished she could listen completely to whatever it was inside of her that told her he wouldn’t hurt her. This two-steps-forward/ one-step-back dance of trust they seemed to be doing was frustrating. Still, he knew he had to be patient with her because he knew that she wasn’t doing this intentionally.

He gave a deep sigh, then looked at her again as he tried to think of a way to convince her - again - to stay with him and allow him to help her regain her memory. “Listen, from what I understand, this place is a two-bedroom cottage, and I’m only going to need one of those bedrooms, so the other bedroom will be empty. It seems a waste of money, not to mention both of our time commuting back and forth, for you to stay at a hotel,” he logically pointed out. “And the more public a place you’re at, the more likely someone might recognize you.”

But all she’d heard was “two-bedroom cottage and I’m only going to need one bedroom”… That meant when “she” showed up that “she” and Jax would be sharing his bedroom… Her frown deepened as that possessive feeling she’d felt each time that he’d mentioned loving Julia’s sister began to grow stronger inside of her. This made no sense, and she hated it! And suddenly she hated hearing the name Julia. But, most of all, she hated Julia’s sister for being loved by Jax in the first place - and that was what was driving her crazy now. She barely knew the man. Why should she care who he loved or who he slept with? She shouldn’t! … But, inexplicably, she did…

He watched as her frown seemed to deepen even more, and he could feel an invisible wall going up between them now. What on earth was going on in that beautiful head of hers now to make her suddenly cool toward him again, he wondered? Maybe it was just that she still wasn’t feeling well.

Despite the fact that he didn’t buy for a second that she had simple motion sickness, he could see that she wasn’t well. She was still incredibly pale, despite the slight flush that was just now beginning to appear on her cheeks. And he noticed that she’d stopped sipping her soda now, too, so maybe her stomach was bothering her again. Or maybe her ankle was bothering her. She should probably be riding in the back seat, with her leg stretched out on the seat, rather than up front with him, with her leg down as it was. But he selfishly wanted her next to him. But he needed to think of her needs, not his, so he should at least ask her if she’d prefer to ride in the back.

“Julia-” he began, but he was instantly cut off from saying anything further when she suddenly exploded at him.

“My name’s not Julia! It’s Veronica!” she shouted angrily. “I wasn’t sure if I could trust you or not when you asked for my name, so I made up one. I have no idea where Julia came from, but I hate that name and I don’t want to hear that name again? Okay?!” she seethed, wishing she had never learned about Jax’s Julia or her sister, yet instantly regretting exploding like this at Jax. The poor man had only treated her with kindness, yet she’d just treated him abominably. He had every right to be in love with Julia’s sister, whereas she had no right to be upset by that.

It had to be the pills making her feel this way - all jealous and insecure. She was beginning to experience the emotional aspects of withdrawal. That had to be it because to have genuine feelings for a man she barely knew was impossible and insane. So she would simply have to get her tumbling emotions under control and keep them there, no matter what.

Jax was totally mystified now. Where had that come from? But before he’d even had time to think about it, she did another about-face.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, her tone instantly soft and full of regret. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I had no right to yell at you like that… I… I’ve never gotten angry like that before for no reason, and I have no idea why I did just now…” she stammered, tears forming in her eyes. “I guess it’s just been a very long, very frustrating day for me…”

“Yeah, it has been…” Jax nodded and smiled. He could see that she was genuinely mortified by the way she’d treated him, and she seemed to be as mystified as he was as to what was going on. Of course, if he thought about this logically, she was right: this had been a long and frustrating day for her. But then it struck him… Logic had nothing to do with the way she was acting; she was acting emotionally…

Then it occurred to him what could very well be causing all of this - her incredible mood swings, her nausea, her pallor: she was pregnant. Suddenly he was the one who felt ill, as that possibility planted itself firmly in his mind and took root, instantly becoming a certainty there. How ironic was this? He’d managed to get her back from the dead and from Armand Cordoba, but they would never be free from that man because she was carrying Cordoba’s baby…

He felt a shiver go through him then, as he realized the implications here. He loved her completely and he always would - of that he had no doubt; but could he love another man’s child as much as he would always love its mother? Especially the child of someone like Armand Cordoba? And certainly Cordoba would never allow Jax to raise his child, so would they spend the rest of their lives running from the man? And then, would that be right to deny Cordoba his rights as a father simply because of how the kind o man he was and how much Jax hated him?

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He was beginning to act as irrationally as Brenda now. And he was certainly getting way ahead of himself here. He was getting all worked up over something that was simply a possibility, not a certainty. But how could he know for certain? He couldn’t very well ask Brenda. In her mind, they were barely more than strangers; certainly not well enough acquainted for him to be asking such an intimate question as “Are you pregnant?” Besides, that was not a question he wanted to be asking her when he knew there was no possibility that the baby could be his.

He looked over at her, and he wondered now if the slight blush on her cheeks was the glow he’d always heard that pregnant women have? He sighed, as he realized that it didn’t matter if that was the glow of pregnancy or even if she was really pregnant. He knew that from this point on until he knew for certain otherwise, he would simply have to assume that she was pregnant and do whatever he could to keep both her and her baby safe, no matter how he felt about the matter.

“Ummm… You know, I’m getting a little hungry…” he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “We’ll be hitting the turnpike in another few miles, then Highway 1, which will take us straight to Big Pine Key, but it’s a long drive and I always feel better travelling on a full stomach… How about you? … Do you feel like stopping somewhere - at least for some soup or something? … Maybe a glass of milk?”

“Milk?” She peered at him over her sunglasses again, not sure she’d heard him correctly.

He nodded. “Or maybe a milkshake,” he offered. He didn’t know a lot about what pregnant women needed, but he did know they needed to eat healthy and include lots of dairy products in their diets.

“Milkshake?” she repeated, her tone puzzled. “I don’t think that I’ve ever tasted a milkshake,” she said, shaking her head.

Yes, you have. You love them - especially chocolate shakes, he thought, but aloud he said: “Well, you’re in for a treat then - that is, if you feel like eating something.”

She ran her hand across her stomach, then nodded and smiled: “Maybe I’d feel better all the way around if I ate a little something.”

He watched her settle her hand on her stomach and once again he felt his heart in his throat, as he wondered if she was doing that because she was pregnant or simply because she was hungry? He sighed, as he realized he would drive himself crazy if he tried to analyze the meaning of every little action she took from this point on. He just had to relax and enjoy having her back, even if she was pregnant with another man’s child.

“I don’t really feel like fast food - and they don’t make the best milkshakes anyway,” he said, as he began looking for signs that told which exits had restaurants, “so I think we’ll try an actual sit-down restaurant.” He saw her tense at that, so he added: “I promise no one will recognize either of us. We’ll go in, eat, maybe talk a little bit about… things… get to know each other better… then we can get back on the road, so we can get to the cottage before dark… That reminds me,” he said, looking at her backpack, which she still held beside her on the seat, “do you have any clothes in there?”

She wrinkled her nose, embarrassed to admit to him that she hadn’t brought any clothes with her - not even a change of underwear. “Nothing but money - not even a toothbrush… But I didn’t want one of the maids to notice that anything of mine was missing. I wanted everyone to think I was just going shopping with Hattie, and I’d be home in a few hours… Besides, I’d planned to buy new things once I got out of the Bahamas… Of course, I hadn’t planned to twist my ankle and limit my mobility and independence in the process,” she added, frowning.

“I’m just glad you were finally able to get away - and that you found me,” Jax smiled. “Everything else is unimportant.”

Both his words and his tone confused her now. It almost sounded to her like he was grateful that she had ended up with him - like this was something he’d hoped for. She had to be mistaken; after all, they were nothing more than strangers brought together by circumstance. She had planned her escape, but she hadn’t planned to jump out that window or hurt her ankle or end up in his car as she had. If she hadn’t planned it, then how could he have wanted them to end up together like this? He couldn’t have, and he likely wasn’t grateful they were together - that was just her wishful thinking there. After all, he was in love with Julia’s sister. He’d made that very clear. He was probably just being kind when he said he was grateful she’d escaped and found him. He’d likely feel the same way about anyone in her situation - male or female. He was just a genuinely nice person that way.

Disappointed, she sighed and looked up to realize that he was talking to her again, but she’d been so busy analyzing what he’d said before that she’d completely missed this line of conversation. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I must have spaced or something - what were you saying?”

“Must be low blood sugar,” he laughed softly. “I said that after we eat, we’ll stop somewhere and buy some clothes and other things for you, including crutches - unless you prefer that I keep carrying you for the next couple of days,” he added, his eyebrows raised suggestively.

“Crutches, please,” she replied quickly. “Wouldn’t want Julia’s sister to get jealous,” she added sarcastically. She immediately wished she hadn’t said it. She knew she had no business saying it, but she couldn’t seem to keep herself from saying it.

He seemed amused by it. “Oh, I don’t think Julia’s sister would be jealous at all,” he smiled, his eyes twinkling.

Strangely, that didn’t make her feel comforted. If anything, it made her even more upset that he didn’t see her as someone that could possibly make Julia’s sister jealous. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t cut off all of her hair and wasn’t dressed like a gawky teenage boy. She wanted her makeup and clothes she’d left back on the island, then she’d show him how sexy and alluring she could be. Then maybe then he’d think she was someone who could make his precious Julia’s sister jealous!

She shook her head. What on earth was she thinking? This man was a total stranger and he was helping her regain her life, yet she was plotting to seduce him simply to make his girlfriend jealous? That was something someone in Armand’s world would do, and it was exactly the kind of thing she hated! … Didn’t she?… At least that was what she’d always told herself, as she’d watched the empty-headed beauties that hung on the men in Armand’s circle try to outdo one another. Was she really as shallow as they were - always in need of constant reassurance that she was beautiful in order to feel a little self-worth? God, she hoped not! Please let this be withdrawal that’s skewing my thinking, she prayed, and not who I’ve really become.

He watched in fascination as her brow wrinkled slightly and a little frown formed on her face again. He’d forgotten how expressive her face was… How it was impossible for her to hide when she was happy or sad or angry or confused… This frown looked to him to be a mixture of anger and confusion, and he wondered what had brought it on? Perhaps something in their conversation? … Or was it something more personal… like the fact that she could be carrying the child of a man she evidently loathes?

Once again he chided himself for assuming something of which he had no actual proof. Simply because she was displaying some early symptoms of morning sickness, didn’t necessarily mean she was actually having morning sickness. She might not be pregnant at all; she could simply be coming down with the flu…

Yes, well, it didn’t matter… Pregnant or flu, she was still ill, and he needed to take care of her as best he could, given their present circumstances. And at the moment that meant finding some food for her.

He noticed the sign indicating the next exit had several restaurants, so he pulled into the right lane of the busy highway and headed for the exit ramp. Both sides of the street in both directions were lined with places to eat, so he turned right and drove slowly, trying to decide simply from the names of the various eateries which place would likely have the best food. He finally decided to give Berry’s Family Restaurant a try, after he saw several families with kids in the parking lot. He figured any place with a high volume of kids like that would probably be pretty experienced at making a great chocolate milkshake, like he’d promised Brenda.

Also, seeing all those families with kids might be a good way to get her to talk about any possible children in her immediate future…

They were in and out of Berry’s Family Restaurant in less than an hour. The service was fast, the food was good, and their chocolate shakes were the best. But Brenda ended up feeling ill after eating only a couple of bites of her turkey club and drinking just a few sips of the chocolate shake, so they quickly left. She did, however, tell Jax that she loved the shake and she hoped to have one again when she wasn’t feeling so ill.

Jax again asked if she’d prefer getting a room for the night over driving for another couple of hours to the cottage, but she thought she’d be okay to drive on to Big Pine Key. She did, however, pass on going into a nearby superstore with Jax to pick up a few items; instead, opting to lean her seat back to rest and try once again to settle her rebellious stomach. That was actually okay with Jax, as he wasn’t sure how he would explain the pregnancy test he planned to pick up. Of course, he also had no idea how he would get her to use it after he got it, but he figured he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

Brenda was sleeping fitfully when Jax returned thirty minutes later from his little shopping trip. He had been concerned, given the heat of the day, that she would be too warm inside the car, so he had rolled the windows down before he left, but left the keys and told her to turn on the air conditioning if she needed it. When he returned, he found her curled up in a ball and shivering, despite the fact that the windows were rolled up, the air conditioning was still off, and the temperature inside the car was near 90.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, dropping the newly purchased crutches and the bags of the other items he’d just bought on the ground by the Jeep. He immediately put his hand on her forehead. She was burning up!

He dug through the bags until he found the first aid kit he’d just purchased containing a digital thermometer. He grabbed the thermometer and gently turned her face toward him. “I need to take your temperature,” he said, and she nodded and opened her mouth for him. It beeped quickly. “102.4 - This isn’t just motion sickness,” he exclaimed, “you’re really sick! I’m taking you to the emergency room now!” He felt silly now for having thought she was pregnant and for having bought the pregnancy test and the book on prenatal care. He’d been so busy fretting that she might be carrying another man’s child that he’d completely ignored the fact her symptoms could be a signal of something more serious.

“No hospitals - please,” she begged, her voice and her grip weak as she grabbed for his arm. “It’s just the flu,” she told him, although she knew in her heart that it wasn’t something as simple as the flu - She was having more and more symptoms of withdrawal, and it had only been about 12 hours since her last pill. She hadn’t thought they’d manifest or escalate this quickly, and she knew, given the severity of her addiction, that this was not going to be easy - or pretty, for that matter. She should probably be under a doctor’s care now, but she couldn’t risk Armand finding her, and that possibility greatly increased if she were hospitalized. He might not know the name she’d be admitted under, but he could simply comb the lists of hospitals for female patients of her age and description admitted for treatment of withdrawal from Vicodin. And he would certainly know that she was going through withdrawal once he found the pills in the tote bag she left behind. No, it was simply too risky to allow Jax to take her for treatment anywhere.

“Okay, but we’re finding a hotel for the night,” he insisted. “It will be too hard on you to drive to the cottage now,” he added, as he grabbed for the Tylenol he’d just purchased, then handed her two tablets and a bottle of water. “Take these for now. They’ll at least help lower your temperature,” he said, reaching into another bag and pulling out the afghan he’d just bought. He’d gotten it in case they wanted to sit outside after sunset in the cool of the evening to look at the stars. He hadn’t expected to be using it this soon. He wrapped the new afghan around her. “There… Would you feel more comfortable lying down in the backseat?”

She swallowed the pills, washing them down with a small drink of water, then shook her head at his offer to move her and also find a hotel for the night. “I’m fine here - and I can handle a two-hour drive, if you can,” she protested weakly. “I’d feel safer in a private home than in a hotel right now… Please - maids and hotel clerks talk, especially when someone is waving around as much cash as Armand can… Trust me - if we stay at a hotel, he’ll find us… Then he’ll drag me back with him - and you’ll be as good as dead, no questions asked…”

Jax knew she was probably right, but he still hated the thought of her having to spend the next couple of hours riding in the car, instead of resting in a bed, as she should be. He sighed and shook his head. “Okay, we’ll head for the cottage, and I’ll try to get us there as quickly as possible - but if I see you’re getting worse, I’m stopping and getting help,” he informed her.

She merely nodded and closed her eyes. She felt like hell now, and she knew it was only going to get worse long before it got better. She suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu about this, and she briefly wondered if she’d been through this before? She had read about what to expect after being on such a powerful drug as Vicodin for so long a time, but it was as if her body knew instinctively what lay ahead - and dreaded every second of it.

But she was too tired and too sick to think about that now. Despite the fact that her stomach seemed to have settled for the moment, every cell in her body now ached, and she longed for one of her little white pills now more than she ever had. But she knew that was an impossibility. And even if it were a possibility, she knew she couldn’t take one. She had to get this poison out of her system once and for all if she was to have any hope of remembering her past.

Those times when she’d had those dreams of her past had been on those occasions when she’d taken less of the drugs, so she hoped ridding her body completely of the drug would make those dreams come more often and be more detailed. She especially wanted to see her dream man’s face or hear his voice or at least call him by name. That was, of course, if she could get Jax’s face and voice out of her head first. But the way things were going, kicking the Vicodin might prove an easier task than forgetting Jax.

She glanced over at Jax, who was frowning as he concentrated on maneuvering them safely through the heavy early evening Miami traffic, and she once again felt a warmth go through her that she couldn’t understand. He was like a guardian angel for her, and she wondered why he had so readily and so happily stepped into that role? They were strangers, yet he was treating her with such gentleness and respect, like he really cared for her - and not simply as a fellow human being in need of help.

Or was she simply imagining that there was more feeling coming from him than that? That had to be it. After all, he had someone - Julia’s sister - and he’d made it very clear that he loved her. And she had the feeling that he was a man who would not be easily lured away from the woman he loved. Julia’s sister is a very lucky woman, she thought as her eyes drifted shut and she slowly drifted back to sleep again.

Jax had noticed her staring at him as he drove because he’d been watching her out of the corner of his eye. He’d wondered what she’d been thinking, but he’d kept quiet, afraid that he would say or do something that she wouldn’t understand - like pulling off the road and pulling her into his arms and trying to kiss the doubts and the fears and the pain away for her. He reached over and pulled her sunglasses gently off her face and laid them on the console between them, so that he could get a better look at her face. She was still so beautiful; it nearly took his breath away looking at her. Now that she was asleep, he allowed himself the luxury of touching her, gently rubbing the back of his hand across her cheeks.

Her skin was still incredibly warm, and he could see that she was still shivering slightly, which meant that her temperature was still rising, and that scared him. It was already 102.4 - how much higher was it going to go before the Tylenol finally kicked in? He wished now that he could have given her aspirin instead, because he knew how well that worked to reduce a fever, but that was one of the few things he did know - pregnant women shouldn’t have aspirin.

Of course, she might not be pregnant at all. After all, a bad case of the flu could easily explain all of the symptoms she’d displayed, including the emotional behavior. But he couldn’t just assume that she wasn’t pregnant, just like he couldn’t just assume that she was pregnant. Still, until he found out for certain one way or the other, it would be better if he continued with the assumption that she was pregnant, because, in this instance, it would be better to err on the side of caution.

His cell phone rang then, jolting him out of his thoughts, and he quickly grabbed it out of his pocket and opened it, glancing over once again at Brenda to make sure the noise had not disturbed her. It hadn’t, and he noticed that she had finally stopped shivering. She even appeared to be sleeping restfully now; a sharp contrast to the way he’d found her when he’d returned from his brief shopping excursion.

“Hello?” he said quietly, finally putting the phone to his ear.

“Jax! You’re okay then! Where have you been? We’ve been waiting to hear from you!” It was John Jacks, and Jax realized that between the excitement of getting Brenda back and being without cell service for awhile, he’d forgotten that he hadn’t let his father know what was happening.

“Dad, I’m sorry I haven’t called, but things got a little complicated,” Jax replied, keeping his voice as low as possible so as not to awaken Brenda.

“Complicated?” John asked anxiously. “What happened, son? Were you able to get Brenda away from Cordoba?” He hesitated a moment, then, disappointment evident in his tone, he carefully asked: “… Or was this woman not Brenda, after all?”

Jax sighed and shook his head. “No, Dad, it’s Brenda all right. And she’s here with me now - sleeping, in fact…” His father let out an elated shout at that, and Jax could hear his mother’s voice in the background now, too, laughing and crying and shouting. He smiled at their happiness, and he wished he had the luxury of celebrating like that now, too. “Dad, there’s a little problem…” Jax interrupted his parents’ impromptu celebration.

“Problem? What kind of problem?” John asked, his tone suddenly concerned. “Is it Cordoba? Is he after you? Do you need help?”

“Well, I imagine Cordoba will be a problem eventually, but, for now, I think I have him handled,” Jax replied, once again glancing over at Brenda, who continued to sleep peacefully in the reclined seat beside him. “In fact, he may not even know she’s missing yet…”

“So, what’s the problem?” John repeated.

“The problem is that Brenda doesn’t know she’s Brenda - and she thinks I’m just some stranger she roped into helping her escape the Bahamas,” Jax answered quietly.

“She lost her memory… Well, that explains why she hadn’t tried to contact you,” John murmured. “If she doesn’t know who you are - or who she is, for that matter - how do you plan to keep her with you?”

“Well, even though she doesn’t consciously know me, there’s a part of her that still trusts me and feels connected to me, so I convinced her that I could get her legitimate help in tracing for her past,” Jax explained, as he shifted the phone to his other ear and held it against his shoulder, freeing both hands to grip the steering wheel as he maneuvered through the heavy traffic.

“Are you thinking hypnosis with a psychiatrist?” his father asked.

“Yeah,” Jax replied, still focused on the road.

“Maybe Dr. Kevin Collins?” John suggested. “He helped Brenda before, didn’t he - when she came off her addiction to those pain pills?”

Jax sighed, as he remembered that terrible time in both his and Brenda’s life. Soon after he and Brenda met, she was hit by a car - courtesy of her involvement with Sonny Corinthos. That injured her hip, requiring prolonged use of pain medication. Unfortunately, the pain medication her doctor prescribed was highly addictive and Brenda quickly developed a dependency on the drug.

During this time, he and Brenda had gotten married and started a life together, then had seen their perfect lives disintegrate as Sonny Corinthos found Jax’s presumed-dead first wife, Miranda Jamieson, to Port Charles. That had understandably put a strain on his and Brenda’s relationship and nullified their marriage, as well.

As Jax sorted through things with Miranda, eventually getting a divorce so that he and Brenda could legally marry, Brenda had become more and more dependent on the pills - and on Corinthos, as well. And by the time Jax had finally gotten free of Miranda, Brenda had hit the peak of her addiction, and, in a moment of drug-addicted weakness, had slept with Corinthos.

She went into therapy with Dr. Kevin Collins then and was eventually able to break free of her addiction to the pills, but her addiction to Corinthos proved far more powerful, and she chose Corinthos over him at that time. Much later, after Corinthos dumped her at the altar and she’d gone through months of therapy and a spiritual renewal, she finally realized that what she had wanted and needed all along had been right in front of her eyes - Jax. That was when she’d set out to convince him that he could trust her with his heart again.

It hadn’t really taken much convincing on her part because he had never stopped loving her in all that time or in all that turmoil. Within weeks they were engaged again. Then within weeks after that, she’d driven off that cliff and into the murky waters of Lake Erie and had been presumed dead - until just a little over a week ago, when Jax had seen her picture in a newspaper.

“Jax? Are you still there?” his father asked, when Jax remained quiet for a long time.

“Yeah, I’m still here, Dad,” Jax replied. “I was just thinking about a few things… (Remembering that awful time in our lives…) … I think it would be best if we didn’t involve Dr. Collins in this.”

“Why not?” John asked. “He knows her history - knows her personally. She’s comfortable with him,” he pointed out.

“True,” Jax conceded, “but that’s exactly why I don’t want him - It would be too easy for Cordoba to trace Brenda through Dr. Collins. I want someone Brenda has never met, so there would be no way that Cordoba would think to link them with Brenda, yet someone that I know and trust personally.”

John sighed then, knowing exactly whom Jax had in mind for this. “Dr. Elizabeth Weston…”

“Yes,” Jax replied. “I know and trust Beth, and she and Brenda have no connection whatsoever, so Cordoba couldn’t possibly think to trace Brenda through Beth.”

“But do you think Beth is the best person to help Brenda?” his father wondered. “I mean, after all, you and she were… involved for a time.”

“We dated a few times, Dad,” Jax corrected him. “That’s something entirely different from being seriously involved. Besides, I broke it off with her weeks before Brenda and I even met, and Beth went on to meet someone else and is even married now, I think.”

“Okay,” his father sighed, “if you don’t think your history will be a problem…”

“Like I said, Dad, neither Beth nor I ever saw a future together for us. We just dated a few times. In fact, we never even shared more than a few goodnight kisses,” Jax confided in his father. “And she’s done research on memory loss and the use of hypnosis to help patients recover lost memories, so she is more than qualified for this. And I can trust her to be discreet.”

“Well, then, it sounds as if you have this well in hand,” John yielded. “So, do you plan to fly Beth to Kronos as soon as possible?”

Jax hesitated momentarily, as he debated whether or not to confide in his father the change in plans - that Chuck was off to Kronos to draw Cordoba’s attention, while he and Brenda were headed to a secluded cottage in the Keys. He had never before kept anything from his father, but he quickly realized that lives were at stake here - Brenda’s, as well as his parents’ - so he opted for the lie. “Yes. Brenda and I are headed there now, and I’ll call Beth and arrange for her to meet us there immediately… Oh, and if you need to get in touch with me for any reason whatsoever, call this number or e-mail me; don’t call or fax Kronos. I don’t want Cordoba being able to trace us in any way.”

His father understood. “Okay, son,” he replied. “Well, please keep us informed as to what happens with Brenda. And once she remembers us, please give her our love and tell her we have missed her so much and want to see her as soon as she is up to company.”

“Thanks, Dad. I will. Bye,” Jax said, then closed the phone and slid it back into his shirt pocket. He hated to have to lie to his father like that, but it really was for everyone’s safety. The fewer people who knew the truth about where he and Brenda were, the less likely it would be that Cordoba could learn that Kronos was just a ruse to hold his attention and keep him from searching for Brenda elsewhere.

He glanced over at Brenda as she stirred slightly, brushing the afghan off as she moved. He was about to pull it back over her when he noticed the tiny beads of perspiration dotting her forehead and above her lips, and he realized her fever must have broken, which was why she’d thrown off the cover in the first place. He breathed a sigh of relief then, glad that her temperature was coming down and that she was still resting. They were over halfway to Big Pine Key now, and he hoped she’d sleep the rest of the way there also.

His thoughts drifted back to his phone conversation with his father about getting Beth Weston to help him with Brenda, and he decided that now was as good a time as any to call her. He pulled his cell phone out, glancing at the digital clock on the console as he decided whether to call her cell number or her office number. It was 7:35 p.m., which meant it she was likely still in her office in LA, so he dialed her office number.

“Dr. Weston’s office. How may I help you?” a pleasant female voice intoned.

“Yes, I’d like to speak to Dr. Weston please - it’s important,” Jax said.

“Is this an emergency, sir?” the voice returned.

“Just tell Dr. Weston that Jax is calling,” he replied impatiently.

“One moment please,” the voice answered, then put Jax on hold.

Ten seconds later… “Jax!” Beth Weston answered excitedly. “It’s been such a long time! How are you?”

Jax glanced over at Brenda and smiled as he answered: “The best I’ve been in a long time.”

“That’s good,” Beth replied warmly. Then her tone changed as she added: “I was sorry to hear about your… your wife’s death. I should have called or sent a note, but I didn’t know about it until months later… I know that’s no excuse for bad manners…” she apologized.

“That’s okay,” Jax smiled. “I was never a strict adherent of Emily Post anyway,” he laughed. “Besides, I neglected to send my best wishes when you got married. It’s Mrs. Nathan Maxwell now, right?”

“Ex Mrs. Nathan Maxwell now,” she quickly pointed out. “My divorce was final about 6 months ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Jax offered. He hadn’t heard about that.

“That’s okay,” she replied. “We discovered very quickly that we were much more compatible as strangers than spouses - within months, in fact. Actually, the divorce lasted longer than the marriage did, if that tells you anything… I should have known not to marry someone that Jules hated,” she added with a laugh.

“How is Jules?” Jax laughed, referring to Beth’s black lab, which had just been a pup when they’d been dating. “Still as friendly as ever?”

“She’s huge now!” Beth laughed. “And she has never come close to liking anyone as much as she adored you - even me, and I’m the one who takes care of her, for heaven’s sakes!”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating there,” Jax chuckled.

“Well, maybe a bit,” Beth conceded, “but not much… Jules has always had excellent taste in men. I should have listened more closely to her when I had the chance,” she added softly.

Jax missed her last comment, as a truck went flying by, its horn blaring, which made Brenda stir slightly. He decided he needed to get to the point quickly with Beth, then get off the phone before Brenda woke up. “Beth, I called to see if I might interest you in taking some time off to join me for a few days…” he began, realizing the conclusions to which she would likely jump, given his tone and the wording, but deciding it was the only way to get her to Big Pine Key without letting her know too much in advance. He’d set her straight as soon as she arrived at the cottage, but he couldn’t chance another person knowing about Brenda just yet. The fewer people in this particular loop, the better.

“Oh?” she asked, her interest instantly piqued. “And the reason for this sudden invitation?”

“Why, I’m interested in your professional talents, Dr. Weston,” Jax replied slyly; though his words were truthful, his tone implied something else entirely. He could almost hear her smile on the other end.

“And just where would we have this… meeting of the minds, Jax?”

“It’s a surprise, but it’s someplace tropical.”

“Mmmm…” she murmured. “Okay, you’ve twisted my arm. Just give me a couple of days to clear my schedule, and then I’m all yours!” she replied excitedly.

“Great!” he smiled. “There is just one thing - you can’t let anyone know where you’re going or who you’ll be with once you get there - not even your office staff,” Jax instructed.

He heard her hesitate slightly. “Why is that?” she wondered.

“Oh, you know me and my predilection for secrecy,” Jax laughed. “I always have an iron or two in the fire, and I never want anyone to know where I’m planning to strike next.”

That seemed enough to satisfy her. “I won’t tell a soul,” she promised. “Besides, I have my cell if my office needs me for anything important. I’ll have a couple of colleagues cover my patients while I’m gone, so there shouldn’t be any reason for anyone to even contact me until I get back… So, how long do you anticipate it will be between the time I leave and the time I get back?” she purred.

“A week - possibly two,” Jax offered, hoping that Beth could unlock Brenda’s memories quickly. “But you won’t have to pack much - I plan for us to stay around the cottage as much as possible…”

“I like the sound of that,” she sighed breathily. “So, will you be picking me up in your jet, or shall I be meeting you in this tropical paradise?”

“I’ll have a first-class ticket messengered to you tomorrow. Then, once you arrive at your destination airport, I’ll arrange for you to have a car and a map to get you to the cottage. It’s a little out of the way, but I needed complete privacy… I’ll be waiting there for you.”

“Not a problem,” she smiled. “I’ll see you on Monday then.”

“I look forward to seeing you,” Jax replied as he hung up.

He looked back at Brenda, as he slid the phone back into his pocket. Thankfully, she was still sleeping and hadn’t heard any of that conversation. He felt almost sleazy as he thought of how he’d manipulated Beth into agreeing to join him by playing on her sensuality like that. He hadn’t planned to do that when he’d called, and, had she still been married, he certainly wouldn’t have done it, but it seemed the most expedient way to get her to Big Pine Key with no questions asked.

He’d explain the truth of the matter once she arrived, and she’d understand. Beth was a wonderful woman - and she would make someone a great wife - but she wasn’t any more meant to be with him than she’d been meant to be with Nathan Maxwell. No, the only woman meant for him was sleeping in the seat beside him, and, hopefully, he’d just taken one step closer to bringing her fully back to him.

Dr. Elizabeth Weston hung up the phone and leaned back in her sleek leather chair and smiled. Pulling the tortoise shell combs out of her hair and shaking her head happily, sending her long, golden locks cascading down her back, she felt an almost orgasmic shudder pass through her, as she thought about that phone call and what it could mean for her future. Jax had always been an exciting man - handsome, fun, sexy, but most of all wealthy, and that was the particular attribute she was most interested in.

She’d been born into wealth and had a thriving practice in LA, where many of her patients were big Hollywood names, but she also liked to live well, and that, coupled with an expensive and prolonged divorce battle and a few unfortunate investments recently in tech and energy stocks, had left her living well beyond her means. Her accountant had suggested that she give up her condo in Bel Air and move to a more affordable location, as well as to trade in her Jaguar in favor of something a little more economical, but she had balked at those suggestions. After all, she had an image to convey, and if she didn’t look and live the life of wealth and ease, then she wouldn’t be able to attract and keep that caliber of clientele. Because in LA you are only as good as you look and if you don’t look good, then you might as well be dead. And she had no intention of dying in this town any time soon.

That’s why Jax’s call had come at just the right time. He wanted to spend a week or two with her in some secluded tropical hideaway, and he’d told her not to pack much, adding that he didn’t plan to venture out a lot. That meant that they probably wouldn’t be wearing many clothes while they were there, and that was just fine with her. She had always regretted that she hadn’t been able to lure Jax into her bed when they’d dated, all those years ago. And she likely would have, had he not flitted off to the boondocks of Port Charles, New York, to swallow up some company or other. Unfortunately, he’d never returned from there, having met his wife then, and that was the last Beth had heard from him. Until now.

But now, that wife was very dead and very much out of the picture, while Beth was very alive and very much in the picture. And she hoped to get as lucky on this trip to wherever as the last Mrs. Jasper Jacks had gotten when he’d flitted into Pork Charles all those years ago.

Yes, Dr. Elizabeth Weston-Jacks had a very nice ring to it, and that ring sounded very much like the ring of a nonstop cash register as it tallied up both her rising social stock in LA for having landed such a prize as Jasper Jacks, as well as the enormous and unending bounty in their soon-to-be joint bank account.

Kirby Johnson had done some serious soul searching in the hours since Veronica Devereaux had disappeared while on his watch, and he’d made some major life decisions, with the emphasis on life.

Despite the fact that no one had yet been able to contact Mr. Cordoba about Ms. Devereaux’s disappearance, nothing else seemed to be going Kirby’s way. His plan to let Mr. Cordoba think of her disappearance as a kidnapping was already unraveling before his eyes. A security guard back on the estate had discovered that Mr. Cordoba’s desk had been broken into and that over $10,000 in petty cash had been taken, and, given her subsequent disappearance, Ms. Devereaux would likely be the primary suspect.

In addition, the tote bag that Kirby had tossed into the garbage hours before had been dug out of the dumpster by a homeless man, and that homeless man had, in turn, been rousted by an alert policeman, who had immediately suspected the bag might somehow be tied to Ms. Devereaux’s disappearance. So the policeman, the homeless man, and the bag were all on their way to police headquarters now, where the homeless man would likely be grilled about anything he may have seen or heard concerning the bag and Ms. Devereaux’s disappearance and the bag would likely be dusted for prints. And once that happened, it was all over for Kirby.

He wondered now how he could have been so stupid as to throw the bag away without first wiping off his prints? Back in Detroit he’d ditched plenty of incriminating evidence over the years, and he’d never failed to wipe everything clean. Which is how he’d managed never to be arrested for anything he’d done as a gang member. But he’d screwed up bigtime today, and there was only one way out that he could see - run and run fast.

A few minutes ago, he’d informed the other members of Cordoba’s security team, as they headed back to the island, that he wanted to follow up on a hunch, then he’d rent a launch to take him back to the island later. He’d then slipped around the corner to a nearby ATM and withdrawn everything he’d saved in the past six months on Mr. Cordoba’s generous salary - over 50,000 American dollars. It wasn’t a fortune, but if he used it wisely it could last for several weeks, possibly even months. But first he had to find a way off of the islands.

The area where the cruise ships docked was just a few blocks away. He knew they were always shorthanded, as underpaid and overworked crewmembers jumped ship at nearly every port. He’d never worked on a ship before, but he didn’t get seasick and he was big enough and strong enough that someone would likely jump at hiring him. And he didn’t care where the ship was even headed, as long as it was away from here and leaving soon.

And once he got wherever it was he was going, he planned to use some of his $50,000 to buy himself a new identity and bury Kirby Johnson once and for all. Because, once Mr. Cordoba found out that he’d let Ms. Devereaux slip away from him, he knew that one way or another Kirby Johnson was going to die. He preferred to be the one to figuratively take care of that, rather than let Mr. Cordoba do it for real…

Armand Cordoba awoke in a cold sweat and struggled to get his bearings. It took him a few seconds, but he finally was able to ascertain what was real and what had been a dream. Unfortunately, his waking world was not that much different than the nightmare he’d just had. In both worlds he seemed to be mired in circumstances beyond his control and helpless to do anything about it.

It had been an unbelievably long day and night, and it only promised to get longer. One of the vehicles in his armed convoy had come down with engine problems, and then a second had immediately gotten a flat tire. He had wanted to simply leave those vehicles behind and continue on to the rebel camp without them, but his team had advised him that that would not be possible. The two vehicles with the problems were ones carrying much of the hardware for the rebels, and there was not enough room on the remaining vehicles to carry it all. He’d then been assured that the problems would be quickly and easily fixed and then they could once again be on their way. From the looks of things now, it appeared that they were still no closer to leaving than they’d been when he’d leaned back and closed his eyes, over an hour ago.

He wiped the sweat from his brow as he climbed out of the vehicle, looking around for one of his own men, finally seeing Andrew talking to another man, whose upper torso was bent under the hood of the stalled vehicle. “Andrew!” he bellowed.

Andrew looked up immediately and nodded, then quickly ran the short distance to Armand. “Sir?” he asked, as he stood ramrod straight in front of him.

“What the hell is the holdup?” Armand shouted.

“The tire has been changed and that truck is ready, and the mechanic is almost finished with the engine of the second truck. It shouldn’t be more than another 20 or 30 minutes - tops, sir.”

“It had better not be any longer than that!” Armand growled. “We’re already late, and that won’t sit well with our hosts!”

“They already know of the situation and are waiting patiently for our arrival, sir,” Andrew replied matter-of-factly.

Armand looked at him sharply. “How were they advised of this? The satellite phone isn’t working, our cell phones are worthless here, and the walkie talkies aren’t good for more than a few kilometers.”

“We were able to get the satellite phone to work for a short while, sir,” Andrew answered evenly.

“Dammit! Why didn’t you wake me? You knew I wanted to use that phone to call back home!” Armand ranted.

“Yes, sir,” Andrew nodded. “And I planned to wake you to let you know it was working, but the connection barely lasted long enough to contact the rebels. I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds, sir, but I felt it was more important to let the rebel camp know what was happening to make sure they understood we meant them no disrespect by arriving late and also make sure that we had their protection as we sat stranded here,” he explained in his crisp ex-Marine cadence.

Armand sighed deeply and shook his head. He was acting like a fool here. Andrew had acted responsibly, protecting both the transaction and all of their lives, as well. “Thank you, Andrew,” he finally replied. “It’s been a long day,” he offered as explanation and apology.

“Understood, sir,” Andrew replied. “Perhaps if you had something to eat while you’re waiting.”

Armand nodded. “Yes, that might help.”

“I’ll get it for you, sir,” Andrew replied, then turned and walked over to the truck carrying the food.

Armand climbed back into the jeep and once again leaned back in the seat, as he waited for Andrew to return with the food. He glanced at the satellite phone, which was back in its carrier beside him. He picked it up and turned it on. The light glowed, but that was the only thing working on it. Angry, he slammed it back onto the seat, watching as it bounced once, then hit the floor with a resounding thud. He knew that was a stupid thing to do; if that broke they were all in deep trouble, but at the moment it didn’t really matter. Whether or not it was broken, it wasn’t working, which meant he still had no way to call back to the island and talk to Veronica. And he really needed to now, especially after the particularly unsettling dream he’d just had.

He’d had the dream before, when he’d first realized he’d fallen in love with her. In fact, in the beginning, he used to have the dream nearly every night, but this was the first time since she’d been released from the clinic that he’d had it. In the beginning, he always assumed he’d had it because he’d been worried that someone would recognize Veronica for who she really was and tell Jacks, and he would swoop in and take her away. He supposed he’d had it just now because of the vulnerability he felt now that he was so close to finally having her the way he had always hoped to have her - truly as his wife and lover. It likely returned because he was finally so close to Veronica emotionally, yet he was the furthest he’d ever been from her in actual physical distance. He guessed it was that combination that made him so uneasy and had brought back all of his old fears - and the dream.

In the dream they’re together, walking hand-in-hand, and she’s smiling at him. He moves in to kiss her and she eagerly kisses him back, but as she pulls away from him, she says: “I love you, Jax - I’ll always love you.” That had always been enough to make him wake in a cold sweat before, but the dream today had gone even further, and that was what had so upset him and why he needed to call and talk to Veronica immediately. Because, this time, as soon as she had vowed her undying love for Jax, he’d suddenly appeared and led her away with him, while Armand stood frozen, watching helplessly as they slowly disappeared.

And even though he knew it was only a dream, he couldn’t shake the startlingly real fear it invoked in him, which is why he so desperately needed to call home to talk with her, to know for certain that she was still there…

Waiting for him…

Wanting him…

And that Jasper Jacks was nothing more threatening to their happiness than the fading images of a bad dream…

It was 8:27 p.m. and just a little past sunset by the time Jax pulled up in front of Tim Henson’s cottage on Big Pine Key. As he tuned off the key and gazed at the place, Jax quickly realized that Tim had been modest when he’d called this a cottage. It was a large, beautiful home, with lots of windows and a wraparound porch overlooking a magnificent view of the Gulf from every angle. The area surrounding the house was lush, with palm and mango trees dotting the horizon, and colorful tropical flowers of every vibrant hue overflowing the grounds. The entire place sat well off the road, which made this a very private paradise and a wonderful place for Brenda to heal and recover her memory.

Brenda had managed to sleep all the way from Miami, despite the occasional blaring horn of a passing motorist, and Jax was grateful for that. It had been a fitful sleep most of the time, but sleep nonetheless. Her skin still felt very warm, though very pale with just the faintest hint of color on her cheeks, but she was no longer shivering or sweating. He hoped that the worst of whatever she had was over, so they could use the next couple of days to grow closer before Beth joined them. He just hoped that inviting Beth had been the right thing to do.

He looked at Brenda now and wondered how she would react to yet another person being brought into the loop about her? Of course, she had known and wanted help in finding her past, but he wondered if the help he had in mind for her - Beth helping Brenda to explore her psyche and unlock her memories - had been what Brenda had in mind? She’d likely expected a slew of private investigators and countless bureaucrats, but he wondered if she’d even considered a psychiatrist? He supposed he’d find out soon enough.

He looked back at the house and, specifically, the entrance to the house. The house itself was built on risers to protect it from storm surge during hurricane season, so there was a long set of steps that led up to the entrance of the house. That was no problem for him, but it was going to be a major problem for Brenda with her bad ankle. And if she tried those steps with the crutches, she’d likely break her neck. He smiled as he realized that, like it or not, she was going to have to allow him to carry her a lot, unless she wanted to spend the next few days, until her ankle healed completely, in the house and off the beach.

He heard her sigh then and realized she was waking up. He decided to unload the car and unlock the house first, then come back for Brenda. That way he could also turn some lights on to make the place feel more welcoming for her. He quietly opened his door and got out, then went around to the back and opened the tailgate and pulled out Brenda’s crutches, his bag, her backpack, and the bags of clothes and other supplies that he’d just purchased for them in Miami, then headed for the steps leading up to the house.

When he reached the wraparound porch at the top of the stairs, he was once again taken aback by how beautiful this place was. He unlocked the front door, flipped on the lights inside and set the load he’d been carrying just inside the door, then went back out onto the porch to look around. He wanted to get back to the car to get Brenda, but he also wanted to see what lay just around the corner on this fabulous porch.

He quickly walked all the way around the house on the porch and was thrilled by what he saw. The view from every angle was spectacular, and he planned to spend a lot of time out here with Brenda, looking at it. There was a large patio table and chairs for dining al fresco, and a hammock and several cushioned lounges and chairs at various spots on the porch, and even a hot tub out here, sandwiched between the porch entrances to the two bedrooms. This place was absolutely perfect, and he made a mental note to give Tim Henson a hefty reward for offering this place to him and a hefty bonus to Chuck for having such a great friend as Tim Henson in the first place.

He ran down the steps to the car. “Hey, wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he said as he opened the door, but instead of finding her still asleep, he found her sitting straight up in the seat and clutching her chest as she once again gasped for air.

He quickly undid her seatbelt, then turned her around in her seat to face him. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice low and soothing, as he tried to help her through what he thought was another anxiety attack. “You’re safe now. No one is going to hurt you, I promise… I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again… Just relax and take a deep breath…” He stroked her hair and face gently as he tried to get her to calm down.

She was burning up again and her face was a fiery red now. Her left carotid artery was distended, and he could actually see how fast her heart was beating as the artery pulsated wildly with each erratic beat. This was unlike any flu he’d ever seen before, he thought, as he watched her eyes grow wide with panic. Then he realized something else about her eyes… Despite the bright light that was on inside the car, her pupils were extremely dilated. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? Suddenly, he felt sick, too, but sick at heart, as he realized that he recognized these symptoms from another time and another place, but with the same woman. She wasn’t pregnant and she didn’t have a bad case of the flu - she was going through drug withdrawal.

“What are you on?” he asked quietly.

“Wh-what do you mean?” she choked out, hoping he didn’t mean what she knew he meant. For some reason she couldn’t understand, she didn’t want him to know this terrible truth about her. She didn’t want him to think less of her; didn’t want him to know she was weak and pathetic and addicted to pain medication.

But why did his opinion of her even matter, she wondered? He was a stranger; fate had thrown them together and they would be parting ways soon, then she’d probably never see him again after that. But for now she still wanted to hide this undeniable fact - she was an addict and she was starting withdrawal. She hated for him to see that she was a mess and she was about to get a whole lot messier.

“I’ve seen this before,” Jax answered, his voice quiet and reassuring. “You’re going through withdrawal…”

She didn’t answer him, but he could see the shame and the self-loathing in her face. She’d evidently been trying to hide this from him all along, which is why she’d told him she had the flu when she’d first started having symptoms, earlier in the day. “It’s okay - I’m not making any judgments here…” he assured her. “I just need to know what drug you’ve been on.”

“Uhhh…” she moaned, as she lurched toward him, doubling over and wrapping her arms around her knees.

He realized that she was in no shape to talk at the moment and certainly not here in the car. He scooped her up, afghan and all, then kicked the door closed behind him and raced up the steps and into the house. He’d flipped the light switch when he’d unlocked and opened the door, and the room was ablaze as they walked in. She grimaced, closing her eyes tightly against the pain of the bright light hitting her dilated pupils. He set her on the couch, then ran back over and flipped off the overhead lights; instead, turning on a small table lamp on the opposite side of the room, which gave off just enough light to bathe the large room with a soft glow.

He was back at her side in an instant, kneeling beside her, stroking her arms gently. She was back to being doubled over again, and she was rocking rhythmically back and forth now. He could almost feel her pain as he watched her, and he hated that she was going through this. He needed to do something - anything - to help her. “Please tell me what you need,” he coaxed, his voice still low and gentle. “Let me help you…”

She stopped rocking for a moment and looked up into his eyes, and Jax could see the pain and the fear and the loneliness there in her eyes. He could see that she knew that this was a journey only she could make, but he could also see that she knew that she could trust him to be there for her to help her as she made this terrible trek.

“Hold me - Please just hold me…” she finally said, her words barely more than a whispered plea.

He smiled and nodded, then sat down on the couch beside her and gathered her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her as he slowly rocked her back and forth. “Always,” he promised, kissing her softly on the top of her head. “Always…”