9
Lucky stood on the docks, angrily glaring out at Wyndemere. He sighed. His family and the love of his life had just mad the most hollowing accusations. They honestly thought that he was responsible for the recent murders. An accusation that he could not truthfully deny. Not to himself anyway. He thought back to the times the murders were said to have happened and each time he came up with a gaping hole where his memory should be. He couldn’t even remember where he had brought those gifts he had given to Nikolas and Elizabeth. What if their suspicions were correct? What if he had killed those people? What would become of him then? Jail? An insane asylum?
"Lucky?" Portia frowned as she came upon the last person she was expecting to see at this time of night. Usually the docks were deserted, leaving her alone with her mixed up thoughts and confused feelings.
"Portia," he stopped pacing
and forced a smile, trying to seem as normal as possible. But
sadly, he was failing. It was obvious that something was on his
mind. "What are you doing out here this time of night?
There’s a killer on the loose. It’s not safe for you to
be out here."
"I’ll be fine. I come here every night at this time and
nothing has happened to me yet."
"Things happen when you least expect them to. Docks…park benches. They’re all the same."
Portia sighed and stared at her half
brother warily. "You sure are a downer tonight. You and your
fiancée had a fight?"
"Kind of," Lucky sighed, setting on a bench, turning
away from Portia. He prayed that she’d go away. He
didn’t particularly want company and he didn’t want to
talk to her about their father.
"Want to talk about it?"
He looked at her as if she was from another planet. For someone who claimed to hate the Spencers so much, she acted like Nikolas did whenever he had a problem.
"Tell me about it," She looked into his eyes, her own blue orbs seeming to fill his world. Despite himself, Lucky talked as if they were old friends.
"They think I killed those people. Nikolas, Elizabeth, and my dad. They think all the evidence points to me."
Portia frowned. "But that’s ridiculous. Sure, you have a temper, but to murder someone…what evidence are they talking about?"
"The gifts I gave them yesterday."
"The ring and jacket?"
With another frown, Lucky nodded. "They said that they belonged to the murder victims."
"But that’s ridiculous. Why don’t you just show them the receipts and lay their minds to rest?"
Lucky looked at his hands, tears of fear dripping onto the dock’s wooden planks. "Because I…I don’t have the receipts. I don’t even remember buying the ring and jacket. I don’t even remember where I was the nights of the murders….it could be that the programming is back. That I did kill those people."
Portia sat next to her brother and took his hands in hers. She wasn’t very good at comforting people. Especially kids of people she considered to be enemies. But Lucky was her brother and he was so sad right now. She just had to give some words of comfort. "Lucky…I may not have known you for very long. But I know that you could never kill anyone. You have a good heart and a pure soul. That was obvious when you couldn’t shoot Luke. You had nothing to do with those murders."
Lucky sighed, looking away from her hypnotic stare. "I wish I could believe you."
"You can!"
Lucky smiled sadly as he got to his feet. "I better get home. Elizabeth will worry and I think I’ve caused enough of that. Bye Portia," He left her on the bench, not bothering to look back. But if he had looked back at his newly found sister, he would have seen the evil grin spread across her face.
She got to her feet and watched Lucky
disappear into the darkness. "Oh Grandmother, our plan is
going perfectly. Soon, all of your dreams will become reality.
The Spencers will be destroyed and the Cassadines will reign over
Port Charles for all eternity."
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