It felt like a small insect was gnawing at the edge of her brain, eating its way into her memories. Soon she could barely remember those bottomless cerulean eyes boring into her, as his idol hands squeezed her wind pipe shut. Or the way his dark hair swayed across his forehead, getting in his eyes, his dark humor. His sadistic tone, as he ran his thumb over her scar, "NO" Her conscious shouted, she would not think about him. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing him back, and deep into her subconscious. Pushing it down so far down that every time she thought about the red eye, it seemed like a distant dream that came across her mind so long ago. The details were like an old faded photograph, in time she hoped, she would never come to think of him again. That the insect would die, and his image would just be a far of memory of a stranger that she passed in the street. However she knew he would always be more than that.

In the distance hiding behind the trees, there was crash of thunder that forced her eyes open; she jumped startled by the storm that was right on her heels. The umbrella was proving to be useless, as the harsh rain began a slanted assault against her face. Her soft hands squeezed the metal handle of her umbrella, as her lips formed a thin line. After about a second, she could no longer hold in those tears, and let out her breath in gasps. In one last of attempt at keeping the utter sadness she felt at bay, she bit her bottom lip. However she had already lost the battle; a long, warm tear slid down her cheek. Her big green eyes stared onto the closed casket that was settled six feet down below. Her father secured inside; on his way up into the sky, and into to heaven. She imagined that he was up in the clouds above the cold air, higher than the storm. Where there was endless sun light and warmth. She guessed that he would be telling all the angels of how brave his daughter was. He would tell them how she saved his life, and the innocent people at the hotel. How she bravely took down the beast.

Ungraciously she used the sleeve of her black rain coat and wiped off the running mascara and the boogers that were canalling around her lips. Her father couldn't protect her any more, and she had no one to take care of. The man that held her in his arms and told her how proud he was; her encourager, and the rock in her life that made everything seem easy. Who would be there for her now? The thought of life alone, made her heart drop into her stomach. The over whelming feeling of heart ache, and despair muddled her brain. What would happen after today seemed insignificant in comparison to what her life was like with her best friend.

Their relocation to the other end of the country was the most difficult thing she had ever had to face, until now. They let the whole world think that they were dead, and now when it really mattered. When she could use her mother for support, the woman whose shoulder she could cry on. When his life should be honored by the military, and a neatly folded flag should be been placed in her arms, followed by gun fire, honoring a fallen veteran. However now, when it really counts, it was just her. According to the world, Lisa and her father had been murdered two years ago. The spot where his name should have been engraved was a foreign name. Dale Brian Green was his fake identity and it would stick with him even to his death, it was something in which she loathed completely.

There was another crackle in the distance and a long wind blew her hair back causing a bigger rush of rain to make its way under her umbrella soaking through her thin black rain coat. Her legs shivered in response at the cold nipping through her nylons, her heels sinking into the mud from the dug up dirt. Lisa stood at the edge of her father's grave and sent her love to him for the last time. Although wanting nothing more than to jump into the grave with him, she tore her eyes away from the casket and walked away. She found her way to brick pathway, and made her way toward the exit. Desperate to escape before she could hear the dirt hit his coffin. Her heels hit the pavement of the street and some little feeling of relief hit her. She looked up into the sky as a lightening clawed across it. Followed by an eerie roll of thunder and then a voice behind her,

"Bonnie?"

A woman's soft questioning voice was right behind her hair. Lisa turned to it as she recognized it as Caroline's voice. The woman's hand lay to rest on Lisa's shoulder and her face was full of concern. Even though she tried to pull off a smile, the smeared mascara left over on her cheeks made the expression lack conviction. Caroline's bowed lips drooped into sympathy,

"Oh, Dear I am so sorry."

She said as she pulled Lisa into a tight hug. Their umbrella's clicked together, and she took in the women's peachy smelling perfume. After a moment Lisa mumbled a thank you into the woman's pink, nylon wind breaker.

"Bonnie you never told me when the service was I could have came with you."

Caroline said, softly chastising Lisa. Slowly but surely the woman's anaconda harms released, and their umbrella's parted. Though after the red eye flight, she hadn't been too fond on hand on contact with anyone but her father, the hug made her feel somewhat relieved, if only for the moment.

"I'm sorry Caroline I've just been busy with all this funeral stuff."

Caroline scoffed and waved her hands in the air,

"No, no don't be sorry. I understand if you wanted to be alone with your father. Like two peas in a pod I say always looking out for each other."

When Lisa smiled this time, it was genuine. Caroline knew them better than anyone else in town. Or so she would say, Lisa often wondered what Caroline would really think if she knew the truth. Her eyes studied the older woman's face, while Caroline prattled on about this, and that. It seemed the rain had taken off a layer of makeup, her wrinkles were showing. She then felt a heavy hand on her shoulder again, and her attention was back on the conversation.

"Listen Bonnie I'm right next door if you ever want to talk. Oh and don't worry about coming back to school for at least the next week we've got you covered."

Caroline finished with a little hurt in her voice. Had she been that obvious about her disinterest in the conversation? Lisa nodded any way, with a sweet smile.

"Thank you." She said over another thunder clap, "I appreciate you taking the time to make sure I have some time to get better. I would love it if sometime this weekend you would come over and help me sort through some of my father's things."

It worked, the earlier spacing out was smoothed over with the thought of helping a grieving woman. How morbid her brain responded, as Caroline pulled her in to her grasp once again. This time the hug seemed terrifying, and claustrophobic.

Ten or so minutes later Lisa found herself on the familiar road home. The rain had turned to a drizzle with some lightening in the distance. Driving down the back road covered in bright green foliage. Moss creeping its way up the red oaks, the over grown bushes covering the sign to her street. Pushing the blinker on she made a left turn on to Coolidge Street. She passed by a few old farms, and Caroline's house followed by a mile or so of forest and then Lisa's long graveled driveway. Then tucked far back into the woods was an old Victorian home. Lisa parked next to her father's black Ford explorer, a stinging reminder that she would have to look at it every day until it rotted. She'd have to sell it, donate it… something. Tears stung her eyes as she stood in the drizzle staring at the car. She must have looked like a crazed woman. Worried that Caroline was spying on her in the forest, she darted for the door.

Lisa slammed the door shut and leaned against it. Letting her purse and keys the floor, she looked down at the open umbrella, "Great" her conscious said, "how many years of bad luck is that?" Shrugging off her rain coat she let it slide the floor. Rage began to pump into her veins as she had the strong urge to kick the potted plant that was sitting in the corner of the stairwell. However the potted plant was granted amnesty as she remembered her father stash of Jack Daniels under the sink.

…...

The sun was blazing, and the sweltering heat made him uncomfortably sweaty. Drips of perspiration sliding down the bridge of his nose where his faded black aviator sun glasses were barley gripping onto his salty skin. His light blue eyes scanned the streets below him; from the bell tower he could see the crowds of people walking in the dirt street. Beautiful Mexican woman wearing their white sun dresses. Children were playing jump rope on the side streets, and three men sitting at a small table outside of a restaurant called "Chino's" It was American owned, and Mexican run. The man in the middle was smoking a cigar, with a large gold necklace draped over his stain covered wife beater. His name was Hector Lopez, the leader, and Jackson's target. However he wanted to be sure. Jackson reached his hand up and took his glasses off with one hand and with the other he grasped the binoculars to his face. He was right of course; Hector had four tear drop tattoos under his left eye. With a smile, and the thought of an air conditioned hotel room, he spoke his superiors

"Target confirmed."

Jackson said into his suit jacket sleeve,

"Proceed."

A voice woman's voice spoke in his ear. Bending down he set up his sniper rifle looking through the magnifier, his finger softly squeezing back on the trigger. The shot went off smoothly but missed the man's head by an inch. Jackson swore to himself as the men and the rest of the area was now alerted. The three men drew their hand guns from their draw stringed sweat pants, and started to randomly shoot into the crowd.

"Fuck… mother fucker…!"

He swore to his lack of motivation to become better at this. Though it wasn't a matter of regrets now; he needed this hit, he needed to prove to his bosses that he hadn't gone soft on them. With the gun reloaded, he took aim at the man cowering under the card table. Without another thought, the bullet dug it's self deep into the carotid artery in his neck. Blood splattered over the side walk. The men guarding their boss booked it around the corner. Hector bled out in seconds.

"Target eliminated."

He said simply into his suit sleeve before disassembling his rifle quickly and packed it into a metal suit case. Pulling the lid down he clamped it shut and made his way down the spiraling stair case, kicking in a door he maneuvered his way around the large room and out another door which lead to a back stair way and to the outside. There waiting for him was a white pickup truck. Tossing the metal suit case into the bed of the truck Jackson covered it with a blue tarp. And then ran to the driver's side, jumping into the cab he shoved the key into the ignition and turned it. The truck rumbled to life, shifting into drive he put his black aviators back on his sweaty face. Ripping the ear piece from his ear and tossing it out the window, he scratched at the stubble that adorned his cheek. The bell from the tower began to ring as he punched the gas pedal, and sped down a back road away from the town.

Five minutes down the road his cell phone had begun to vibrate causing the plastic cup start emitting this annoying gnawing sound that he couldn't ignore. Violently he tore at the cup holder until it surrendered his out dated flip phone; he pried it open using his chin, pressing the speaker option he answered with an annoyed tone.

"I told you I was a fucking lousy shot."

He looked from the phone to the road swerving past a cow and a little girl trying to pull the beastly animal across the road. The voice in the speaker laughed. At this juncture Jackson would have rather spoken to the woman. Dealing with them was always an easy business.

"Jackie boy you did alright. You know what you have to do to get your old position back."

The gruff voice on the other end irritated him as he mocked his name. Sighing he placed the phone in the seat next to him, as he messed with the ancient air conditioning controls in the truck. Although the next thing that was mentioned wasn't really out of the ordinary, but it still created an annoying feeling of anxiety.

"Although, not to dig up past fuck ups…we have located Lisa."

Jackson looked stoically down the road, his suspicions were right. He knew that they would put her into witness protection. He still thought about choking the life of out the little bitch, but that shit was all in due time. After he had his life back together, he might have considered tracking her down. However to appease the higher ups, he decided to play dumb.

"She's dead."

He simply put. There was a long pause, and then some laughter on the other end.

"Well her dead body has decided to come out of the witness protection and move out of state to New Hampshire."

Jackson didn't say anything,

"Apparently for the last two years her and her father have been living in Oregon, he still retired. Lisa got a job posing as a high school English teacher. When I heard the news I had to wonder why should she would be so stupid to break her cover?"

He smiled crookedly at the thought of Lisa being an English teacher. He wondered idly if she wore those short skirts and heels in front of the hormone raging boys. Then he thought better of it, Lisa never seemed like she was the teasing type. The pleasing type however, he could defiantly imagine. When Jackson didn't take the bait from his boss, the man moved on to his next bit.

"Well I pulled some strings and collected a few favors and it turns out dear old pops is currently residing under the grave stone marked Dale Brian Greene."

The man belted out a deep laugh, and Jackson followed in suit. When the laughter died down, Jackson decided to play.

"So..." Jackson said flying down the road closing in on the boarder to the United States. "Ms. Reisert, is going to New Hampshire. What's that got to do with me?"

Innocently he dug his nose further in, it would seem odd to them if he didn't have the slightest interest, but he still needed to remain relaxed, and show no real emotion when it came the subject of Miss Reisert.

"Well I know that you are on vacation next week so I was thinking of giving the job to Peter Sullivan."

Jackson silently agreed with his choice. Pete could take her out from a building away and be out of town within the hour. It was a talent he envied. However he made no attempt to be a better marksman in the last few years maybe that was why they kept sending him to shitty jobs? He silently wondered.

"Hmmm, I can why you would choose him. He is one the best."

The comment was a jest smeared in sarcasm and jealously. The man's voice on the other end went dark as he went on.

"Besides revenge plans always get messy and you don't need another incident that could cost you everything. Don't you agree?"

Jackson sighed inwardly, "Absolutely sir." The man on the other hand started to cough and the phone went silent. Jackson pulled his truck over to the side of the road. Staring at his phone, he let the cool air move over his skin.

"Lisa."

He mumbled,

"Lisa, Lisa, Lisa…"

At this juncture his dick was going make him do something very stupid, and for reason his brain didn't want to fight it.