So here is chapter three. To be honest, I'm getting a little discouraged. When writing, I strive for perfection, so any flaws I find extremely annoy me and make me get discouraged.
With that in mind, thank you to anyone who has pointed things out that have been questionable! I really do appreciate it. I do NOT get annoyed at the individual telling me such things, more at myself for missing something.
Anyways, chapter three. Leave reviews, mistakes, pointers, praise, or opinions. I love hearing them! Enjoy.
Lisa can't sleep. Her mind is racing. Every time she does fall into a deeper sleep she's awakened by the creaking of the floorboards or a rush of wind outside her window. The moonlight leaking in through the sheer curtains creates ghostly patterns on the comforter and makes her heart race until she forces herself to calm down. Even though she knows he isn't here yet, she can't help but wonder when Jackson will actually show up and choke the life out of her. Soon enough is always the answer that comes into her head when she wakes up. Soon enough. But, she wants an answer. She wants him to come and get her now so she doesn't have to spend her nights tossing and turning, so she doesn't have to look over her shoulder. She would rather be dead or dying now by his hands, then wait for it to come.
"Go to sleep," she mutters to herself as she rests her head on one of the two pillows. Her feet are tangled in the sheets, her body covered in a thin layer of sweat. "You're being paranoid, just…Go to sleep." Her voice is thick and her mouth feels dry but she doesn't dare get up. If she gets up now, she'll never fall asleep.
Then finally, sleep comes in a thick blanket and covers her body. But, this sleep brings nightmares.
She's running. Her feet are bare and slapping against concrete. The blood rushing in her head and her breathing coming out in heavy sets is all she can pick up on. Her surroundings are simple enough: a hospital parking lot.
"Lisa?" She hears her name and looks over her shoulder, still running in the direction of the emergency room. Her eyes widen in horror as she sees Jackson with a long knife, perhaps a KA-BAR, held firmly in his left hand. He isn't running, just walking with a perfectly tailored suit covering his lean and muscular build.
She runs even faster, forcing her feet to slap down harder until she finally reaches the automatic doors and steps inside. To her disappointment, no one is here. Desperately, she looks around and sees all the lights off, the hallways dim, the fluorescents even flickering. Her heart hammers as she feels sweat build on the back of her neck and in the palms of her hands. Where is everyone? With a glance over her shoulder she sees Jackson right outside of the doors preparing to step in.
"No!" Lisa screams running down a hallway. Her bare feet slap even louder against the tile floor. She tries her best to run lightly so she won't generate as much sound, but every move seems terribly loud.
"Do you recognize this hospital, Lisa?" Lisa runs into a room that is very dark and closes the door, her body leaning against it, a chill going down her spine not just because of the cold of the door, but the way Jackson is speaking. His voice sounds like a sick lullaby, a sinister prayer. "Of course you wouldn't. How foolish of me."
Lisa breathes deeply and evenly trying to see into the pitch dark of the room. Her eyes widen when she hears Jackson's heavy footsteps right outside of the door. His hand is on the doorknob and twisting it. In a fit of rage and desperation Lisa grabs the doorknob from her side and tries to firmly hold it in place, her body feeling suddenly very weak. "Leave me alone!" Her scream bounces off of the walls, letting her realize that she is in a very large room.
Jackson gives one good shove and the door swings open, knocking Lisa onto her bottom. "This is the hospital where my parents were taken after I stabbed them." His voice cradles her like a demonic child, while her heart beats like a rabbit's in her chest. "Let's see," Jackson mumbles shutting the door behind them. Lisa stands trying to step away from Jackson without being lost in the darkness consuming both of them. Jackson flicks on a light and it's like a spotlight from heaven shines down on a silver table with wheels. On that table is a body.
Lisa screams. "What is wrong with you!" Lisa yells. Her voice cracks and a tear rolls down her cheek.
The woman on the table is young and quite beautiful. Her hair is dark as night, her skin very pale, her fingers long, and her eyes are open even though she is quite obviously dead. Her eyes are none other than a striking blue…
"I stabbed my mother seventeen times, Leese." Jackson walks over to the table, stepping into the spotlight next to his mother. All Lisa can do is watch in horror as Jackson caresses his mother's dead face, his piano fingers traveling over her dead features, then gradually gripping her fingers that are identical to his. With delicate hands he closes her eyes. His eyes and hers could be the same set.
Lisa swallows. "Why are you showing me this?" Her voice seems louder than necessary but she stands her ground, swallowing bile that is rising in her throat faster than a river breaking through a dam.
Jackson steps around the table with his mother and walks over to a patch of darkness. Suddenly, another spotlight turns on and reveals Jackson standing over another silver table with wheels, this time holding the body of a man, about the same age as the woman and just as lovely. This man, though, is a spitting image of Jackson Rippner. "I stabbed my father thirty times, Leese." Jackson looks up and right into Lisa's eyes. "I hated my father." Jackson turns to Lisa and pulls the knife out he had stashed in his pocket. He glides it along the edge of the table letting it make a screeching noise as Jackson slowly moves towards Lisa. "But, you see Lisa, I didn't hate my parents as much as I hate you for fucking with my job. So, tell me, how many times do you deserve this beautiful knife to penetrate your perfect body?" Jackson grins like the Cheshire cat, his eyes starting to glow.
Lisa backs up and feels a wall behind her. She's doomed. Her voice won't come out, her body won't move, her eyes won't stop watering. And just when Jackson reaches her with the knife an inch from her perfect throat, he stops. With a delicate hand he cups her face and kisses her. He kisses her deeply and lovingly, not a single amount of passion forgotten and left aside. His mouth moves with hers in the most honest way he can, and Lisa can feel her body move again, pressing into him, her arms wrapping around him begging him to stay in this moment. Then, a piercing pain goes through her and she crumbles to the ground. She grips her side and pulls her hand away seeing oozing red blood.
"No one ever gets away from me, Leese." Jackson smiles and kneels down next to her. "Not them," he points to his parents dead bodies in the bizarre spotlights, "and not you."
Lisa wakes up screaming. She turns to the bedside table where her alarm clock sits and sees the time being shortly after nine o' clock in the morning. Her eyes feel heavy, her body even heavier. She never sleeps in so late. Then she practically jumps out of her skin at the shrill sound of her phone. She had placed it on the bedside table last night, and the last thing she expected was to hear it go off.
She picks it up with a shaking hand. "Lisa Reisert," her voice trembles slightly as she tries to calm her breathing.
"Lisa!" Cynthia screams into the phone. "You would not believe what happened! I swear I did everything you would have expected me to! I tried calling yesterday morning after it happened but your phone must have been off! I didn't realize you wouldn't be coming right back to work. Oh, you're going to be so mad! Please don't be mad!"
Lisa sits up straighter then realizes it will be about the explosion to suite 4080. "I already know, Cynthia. It's okay, just calm down, alright?"
Cynthia takes a deep breath on the other line. "How do you know? Did you watch the news yesterday or something?"
Lisa nods. "Yeah, I did." Lisa tries to sound convincing. "Is maintenance fixing everything?"
"Yes, they are. There are several construction workers here too. I called them after the panic died down and we let people back in around seven yesterday morning. Everyone is safe, and the Keefe's are still here. Can you believe that? I can't believe their security is keeping them here." Cynthia barely breathes as she speaks and it's making Lisa feel chills through her body.
Lisa sighs. The Keefe's are still staying at the Lux Atlantic after an attack on a suite? Why on Earth would they still be there? "Well, they must know something then. Cynthia, call Heather and get her to come in and do the day shift. Are you okay working again tonight? I might just pop by and see how things are and get some paperwork done. It was a long night." Lisa realizes how out of character she sounds. She is usually a workaholic begging to come into work when people argue that she shouldn't be anywhere near that place.
"Yeah, I'll do that. It's perfectly fine. I don't mind. But," Cynthia pauses, obviously detecting something off, "are you okay Lisa?"
Lisa nods viciously. "I'm fine, Cynthia. I might see you tonight when you come in at shift change." Lisa snaps her phone shut and leans back against the headboard. Her body is extremely tense, always on edge, preparing for anything.
She stands and stretches and decides the first place she needs to head is the bathroom for a long hot shower.
Her mind is racing as she steps into the bathroom. For some reason, she didn't run away. Maybe because she knows Jackson will find her despite her location, maybe because she knows that Jackson will use her family. But then, a voice nags. If she hadn't of completed that fake phone call on the plane, she would have fought Jackson tooth and nail to get away and to save the innocent.
She undresses, staying in her bra and panties. "You've given up," she mutters to her reflection. Then she looks down at the scar right above her right breast. "You said you'd never let it happen again." Her fingers trail over the silver mark. Her eyes widen when she recalls that day, how she turned into such a loner.
She turns on the faucet and splashes water in her face. Jackson didn't come for her or her father last night, but that doesn't mean he won't in due time. Lisa stands and watches the water drip off of her face. She will not let her family get hurt. Jackson will find her for revenge no matter where she is, so she'll stay at home, but get her father to leave. She will stay put and be prepared. She won't go down without a fight.
Jackson wakes in his room at the company mansion and finds himself tired. Strange, really, considering that he slept all the way through the night like a baby. His eyes had shut immediately after he had undressed and laid down on the comfortable mattress. Now it seems like he didn't sleep a wink. He sits up and stretches his arms above his head feeling cracks in various locations down his spine. He stands, grabs some clothes, and heads to the washroom to shower and dress.
Jackson smoothes out his crisp black dress shirt, not tucked into his dark wash jeans, as he walks down the hallway of the mansion towards the stairs. Loud clicks are audible from his dress shoes as he jogs down the marble steps. "Still alive I see?" The man from yesterday shows up at the bottom of the stairway. Jackson rolls his eyes. "And still sarcastic, I see."
Jackson shrugs. "You're familiar with sarcasm, Heath?" The man laughs blackly.
"That supposed to be funny?" Jackson smirks. "See, I was expecting to be burning your body today. Hate to admit that I'm a bit disappointed."
Heath tucks his hands into the pocket of his dirty gray dress pants. Jackson smiles wider then takes a hand, balls it into a fist, and swings. His fist comes into contact with Heath's jaw with a sickening crunch and spurt of blood. The man staggers and falls to the hard marble floor clutching his face in his bloody hands. Jackson stands over his body and nudges him with his shoe a little.
"I've warned you before about fucking with me." Jackson then walks to the back of the house, behind the bookcase door, and down the concrete steps again. This time he heads to the office right next to his: Murphy's.
He leans against the wall and lets his knuckles graze the door. "Yeah?"
Jackson pushes the door open, letting it fall shut behind him with a click. "I thought we'd go over some sort of plan." Jackson nods towards the folder Murphy is clearly skimming through. "Smith wasn't exactly clear on what he wanted."
Murphy nods and gestures towards one of the two empty chairs in front of his desk; Jackson sits in the one on the left. "Smith is the client," Murphy says, "he isn't exactly a professional when it comes to assassinations. That's why he came to us. So, of course, his plan has flaws."
Jackson leans forward resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "So, as you already know, I knew about the Keefe's wanting the Reisert's dead because I did a little research of my own…Perhaps without permission." Murphy slips on some reading glasses and places them at the end of his nose.
"Without permission? Sounds nothing like you at all, Jackson." Murphy lets the sarcasm drip from his voice.
Jackson laughs and picks up the folder placed on his lap and flips it open. "So, apparently Smith believes that the Keefe's, as in Charles and Amanda, have plans to overthrow the government." Jackson pauses looking over the detailed descriptions of the Keefe family. "But, no where do I see any proof of that."
Puzzled, Murphy flips through a few pages of his own folder. "It must be some sort of speculation Smith has. Either way, he's the client. He wants to send a message, let it be."
Jackson nods. "Now, the Reiserts knew Charles Keefe before he got involved in Homeland Security. From what I've read, Lisa's father-
"Joe Reisert, Jackson." Murphy corrects watching Jackson look slightly embarrassed.
"Yes, Joe Reisert." Jackson nervously pulls at his shirt collar feeling suffocated. "Joe Reisert is a retired lawyer, and apparently Charles had issues with the law before getting involved in the government. Now, it says here that he paid off people inside the court system to not get jail time. His record was eventually cleared as well. Joe Reisert, being a determined lawyer, tried to get another trial but was turned down. He spent the rest of his career with a folder on Charles Keefe, wanting to put him behind bars for being an accomplice in terrorist acts." Jackson skims through his notes.
Murphy sits back in his chair making a loud squeak fill the air. "And now this retired lawyer is still keeping that file, I presume?"
Jackson nods. "Charles Keefe wants the Reisert's out of the picture because they are the only people to ever get close enough to him."
"Why get rid of the ex-wife, who now lives in Texas, and the daughter who doesn't know anything?" Murphy rubs his eyes, heavy circles beneath them expressing lack of sleep.
Jackson shrugs and yawns. "He must just want to be on the safe side. Apparently Diane Reisert was a lieutenant and was assisting her husband, Joe, in getting leads on Keefe. She's probably given up because she is retired now as well, but that doesn't mean if her ex-husband mysteriously goes missing she won't turn to someone with a grudge against him. And the daughter is probably a bargaining tool. He may want to kidnap her in return for the files they have on him." Jackson explains realizing he is revealing how much time he has spent doing things he isn't allowed to do.
Murphy nods. "I can see what you mean by your previous research being illegal. None of these speculations are in the folders we have."
Jackson sits back and closes his folder. He stands and walks towards the door. "I've been working with you a long time, sir." Jackson says, twisting the doorknob. "I know how people think."
Murphy raises a hand just as Jackson goes to leave. "What about some sort of plan? The Keefe's won't be staying at the Lux Atlantic long enough for Lisa to help you in getting men in there to terminate them."
Jackson nods. "He'll stay until Joe Reisert and his daughter are out of the picture. We can get him in the Lux Atlantic, as long as plans don't change. Look, I'll get Joe Reisert to leave the state. In the mean time, we can get his thugs to follow Lisa. The more thugs we take out, the less work it is to take out Keefe."
"His thugs will be with him all the time, Jackson. You take out one, he calls another one in."
"Not unless that other one that gets called in isn't actually working for him. Smith is getting his men out of there before they grow suspicious. Keefe will want more men. We'll give him more men." Jackson explains opening the door. "Then we'll get the real Keefe guards to follow Lisa, and take them out. That leaves all of our men with Charles Keefe and his family. Then we can set up an attack."
Murphy holds his hand up again. "You know, Jackson, you don't have to save the Reisert's. In fact, you're making it a little more complicated than it needs to be by saving them."
"I know," Jackson replies with a hint of sorrow in his eyes.
Murphy nods and with that, Jackson walks out of the room, folder firmly in his hand. He smiles to himself as he heads back up the stairs and towards his room. Once he reaches his door he walks in, throws the folder on the bed and pulls a suitcase out from the walk-in closet. He unzips the large suitcase and begins to pack. He grabs all of his clothing, packing them neatly and in an organized fashion, and takes all necessities from his washroom. At the end, he delicately places the folder on top of all his clothes staring at it with heavy eyes. He is indeed making things more complicated by trying to save the Reisert's. Why does he want to? Jackson thinks about Lisa, her fear-filled eyes.
He can't deny the fact that watching her over the eight weeks before the planned Keefe assassination was almost too much to handle. He should be so angry that his skin trembles and boils with rage but Jackson can't feel that kind of rage, for some reason. Revenge has always been pecking his brain, rubbing it raw with ideas. But, then, it's like the silver revolver from inside of Smith's jacket is pointing between his eyes again, threatening him to use her again. Is that really why he doesn't want to hurt Lisa? Jackson sighs, his eyes suddenly heavier than before.
"I just need to finish the job," he mutters as he walks towards his doorway, suitcase in hand, and a confused expression on his face. His destination is one he knows well: Lisa's home.
I know there isn't much action yet. I apologize. It will pick up once I get through all the details to make sure everything generally makes some sort of sense. Again, thanks so much for reviews. I love them! Please, leave reviews!
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