A continuation of Part 1, a flash fiction from April. It was written in 20 minutes. No edits for typos.
The drive between Port Charles and the Canadian border was not a long one, but tonight, it felt like the longest ride of Cameron Webber’s life. In the backseat, his younger brothers were eerily silent.
They’d been woken from their sleep by screams and thuds and then hustled out of the door in their pajamas, with no other explanation beyond “Let’s go. Now!”
Aiden had cried for the first ten minutes, wanting to see his mother, but Jake—
Jake was quiet, his eyes assessing. He’d seen more than Cameron had wanted—the blood stains he’d tried to scrub out from his nails at a gas station near Buffalo, the scratches on his arms, the bruises on his face. He hadn’t asked any questions. Had simply followed Cameron back out of the bathroom and into the car, helping Aiden get bucked up again.
Drive, his mother had said, handing him the keys to the car she’d only recently let him back out of the driveway for the first time and the emergency envelope of cash she’d hidden away. Drive into Canada and keep driving until she contacted him. Cameron had argued—he’d wanted to stay—wanted to take care of her—but she had only shaken her head.
Jake and Aiden had to be safe. Had to be kept away. What if they were wrong—what if he wasn’t dead? What if he came back?
He always came back.
Neither of them voiced the obvious wrinkle in her plan to just keep driving until she contacted him. If Drew and Franco were as dead as they looked—
She might not be able to contact him.
But Cameron couldn’t think of those things right now. He had to get the boys over the border. He could figure everything else out just as soon as they were all out of the country.
His cell phone rang, and out of habit, he looked at the screen on the dashboard—his phone had connected automatically to his mother’s bluetooth connection, like it was any other day and he was just going to drive her crazy with his music as she dragged him somewhere.
The sight of his brother’s father’s name flashing across the screen was a strange one and yet—he felt his lungs expand slightly. He remembered Jason. Jason took care of things. Or he used to. He used to be his mother’s go-to in almost every emergency.
Had his mother reached out now?
“That’s my dad,” Jake said, leaning forward as the phone continued to ring. “Are you going to answer it?”
“Sit back,” Cameron said. He took the next exit and steered the car towards the first gas station as the phone went silently, having reached the amount of rings before voicemail switched on. “Keep your seat belt on.”
He pulled the car into a parking spot alongside the building, then reached for his phone, switching off the bluetooth. He didn’t want his brothers overhearing anything Jason might say to him.
He dialed the number, and Jason answered on the first ring.
“Where are you?”
Cameron swallowed. He didn’t know Jason anymore. He thought he had—he thought the man who had lived with them for almost a year and had offered to adopt him was Jason—but that wasn’t Jason, and all the other memories were faded ones of a child who loved motorcycles and any adult who would play with him.
“How did you get my number?”
“Cameron.” There was a pause. “I was just at the PCPD. I talked to your mother.”
His chest squeezed again as tears burned in his eyes. He closed his eyes. “What did she tell you?”
“Nothing. Except that it was all her fault and that I needed to find you and your brothers. I convinced her to stop talking to the police and let Diane help her. Let me keep my promise to her. Where are you?”
“I—I just took an exit off the 190. Just before the bridge to Grand Island. I don’t—I don’t remember which number.”
“Exit 15,” Jake said quietly in the back.
“We’re at a gas station,” Cameron continued. “Mom—she’s okay?”
“No,” Jason said. “But we’ll take care of that next. Stay where you are as long as you can. That’s not too far away. I’ll come to you.”
“Okay. Okay.” He closed his phone and set it in the cupholder next to the driver’s seat. He was oddly comforted by the fact that Jason hadn’t pretended everything was okay or that his mother was just fine. He hadn’t lied to Cameron.
It was a small thing, but Cameron needed it right now. It was something to cling to, something that let him believe it was safe to trust Jason Morgan.
“Is my dad coming?” Jake asked. He climbed over the seats and settled into the passenger’s seat. A moment later, Aiden followed even though it was now a tight squeeze with Aiden and Jake sharing the seat. “Are we going to wait for him?”
“Yeah. He was worried about you—” Cameron’s throat tightened. Because that’s why Jason was involved, of course. Worry over his own son. He didn’t care about Cameron or Aiden. Or his mother. But he hadn’t lied to him.
And if that was the only thing Cameron could believe in right now, he’d take it.
It was almost an hour before a dark SUV pulled int the spot next to them. Cameron waited until he saw Jason step around the front of the car and lean against the hood.
“Stay in the car,” Cameron told his brothers.
“But that’s my dad,” Jake began but he closed his mouth when Cameron glared at him. “Okay.”
Cameron pushed open the sedan’s door and closed it. “What next?”
“That depends on you,” Jason told him. His light blue eyes seemed to penetrate right into Cameron’s still sour gut. “Do I need to get you out of the country?” He tilted his head, nodding towards the injuries that were still visible. “Somewhere you can’t be extradited?”
“I think—” Cameron swallowed hard and spoke carefully. “I think it might have been self-defense. But I don’t know. I—you’d do that?”
“Yeah.” Jason stepped towards him. “I promised your mother a long time ago I would always take care of you. I didn’t—” He looked away for a long moment before meeting his eyes again. “I didn’t keep that promise then. Let me keep my promise to her,” he repeated softly. “For once.”
“I had to do it,” he offered. His voice trembled slighlty, but Cameron bit down hard on his lip. “I had to do it. He was going to hurt her. And I couldn’t let her get hurt again.” He closed his eyes. “I killed Franco, and I’m not sorry.”
“I should have killed him years ago,” Jason said, bluntly. Cameron’s eyes flew open. “I thought I had. It’s my fault any of this is happening. Let’s get your brothers and head back. I brought someone to drive your mother’s car back to Port Charles.” He hesitated. “I don’t know if we can fix it, Cameron. But we’re going to try.”