Cause everytime we touch
I get this feeling
And everytime we kiss I swear I can fly
Can't you feel my heart beat fast, I want this to last
Need you by my side
Cause everytime we touch, I feel this static
And everytime we touch, I reach for the sky
Can't you hear my heart beat so
I can't let you go
Want you in my life

Cascada; Everytime We Touch (Ballad Version)

Always

Chapter Nine: The Aftermath

A tingle erupted throughout her body as his lips brushed hers. She leaned into him as well, encouraging the kiss as much as possible. Her hands trailed up his back and tickled the back of his neck, burying themselves in his hair. Jackson's arms went around her waist, pulling her closer to him, pressing her body against his as he reveled in the feel of her against him; gloried in the mixture of his breath with hers.

The world around her was disappearing, the people surrounding them vague emanations in her mind. All that existed was him. All that mattered was the feel of his lips against hers, his heartbeat thudding in tandem with hers. All that she could feel were his hands pressed into the small of her back. All she could hear was the pounding in her ears and Jackson's heavy breathing.

Jackson, on the other hand, was aware of everything around them. He could sense the press of the bodies around him; could hear the near silent whispers of the students as they danced. He was more than aware of the feel of Lisa's heart pounding in her chest. And he was conscious to the fact that he was losing his mind entirely. He hadn't meant to. He hadn't meant to get this close. This was never supposed to happen.

His head told him to pull away; to break away from the sweet scent of Lisa. But his head was not completely in control. There were other parts of him controlling his movements, his emotions. His gut for one. And, as much as it pained him to say it, his heart was leading him places he didn't want to be.

A loud 'ahem' sounded behind them. Lisa jerked away, her hands flying to her lips. Her wide eyes met his for just a moment before she turned around, a slight blush gracing her cheeks.

"Miss Reisert may I speak with you outside for a moment?" a serious looking teacher asked.

"Of course," Lisa replied.

She followed the woman quickly, both exiting through the open double doors. The teacher stopped, turning on her heel to stare at Lisa. "Miss Reisert I have to say that that was completely inappropriate."

"I am so sorry."

"You are supposed to be acting as a chaperone; someone who is a role model for the students. You have to know that public displays of affection are not allowed at a school dance."

"No, of course not," Lisa replied, forcing back the laughter that threatened to bubble up in her throat. "I am so sorry Mrs. Temple. It will not happen again."

"I should hope not. You are not setting a very good example for our students."

Lisa merely smiled in response and watched as Mrs. Temple walked away. Jackson stood just outside of the door, leaning against the doorframe, silently watching the entire exchange. He smiled politely at the woman as she passed him. She merely ignored him, a disdainful look crossing her face.

"She was a little irritable, wasn't she?" he asked, craning his neck to watch the woman walk away.

"Well, um . . ." Lisa replied, a blush crossing her cheeks again. "She . . ."

Jackson was in front of her in a second and brushed a kiss against her cheeks. "You're beautiful when you blush."

Lisa looked up into his eyes. A small smile played across his lips as he gazed down at her. Suddenly self-conscious from his piercing gaze, she stepped back and grabbed his hand. "Come on. Let's go back inside," she replied as she pulled him along behind her.


Jackson followed Lisa with his eyes, keeping track of her as she made her way around the room, talking to various students. He chuckled to himself as he watched her catch sight of the old prudish teacher and veer in another direction. The woman- Mrs. Temple he thought her name was- had kept an eye on them ever since berating Lisa earlier in the evening. Jackson had almost kissed Lisa again just to piss the woman off more.

His eyes darkened. What had he been thinking? She was distracting him again. He had allowed her to get into his mind. This wasn't going to be good. For weeks now he had fought with himself; constantly telling himself that she was nothing to him. Nothing but a job. She still is, he argued. Nothing but a fucking job.

But you kissed her, a voice whispered back.

It was a mistake. It won't happen again.

But you still kissed her.

Jackson scowled. She's only a job.

Keep telling yourself that.

Shut up.

He knew he was going to have to use her eventually. The company would have called him off already otherwise. But would he actually be able to just leave her? A voice at the back of his mind nagged. Yes, God damn it. She's just a job!

Jackson ran a hand through his hair, pulling his bangs away from his eyes. These internal debates that he seemed to be having more and more often were beginning to piss him off. He had never seriously considered himself to be crazy, but he was beginning to have doubts about that now. Maybe it was because of the eight weeks of surveillance. He had never watched someone for that long before. He had never needed to. It was always for a week, maybe a week and a half tops. Then he would know what to use against his target.

But not with Lisa. She had intrigued him. Her almost complete lack of a social life, the way she would flinch if a male customer drew too close, the way she would smile without actually smiling. Maybe that was why he was never able to stop following her until the flight. He was curious. He wanted to find out her secrets. He wanted to know what she was hiding.

Perhaps his curiosity is what had motivated him to stay close to her.

A poke to his side startled him from his reverie. "What are you thinking so hard about?" Lisa asked as she stepped up next to him.

Jackson smiled as he turned to her. "Work," he answered truthfully.

"Ah," she replied. "Well, enough of that. Come on. Let's dance."

Jackson allowed her to lead him onto the dance floor. His mind wandered again as he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to him tightly. He buried his face in the crook of her neck as they moved, breathing in her soft, sweet scent, his mind contemplating what he would do when he was ordered to use her.


Lisa yawned and stretched. The night was finally over. The clean-up had gone by quickly; the prom committee even staying to help out. She was just ready to go home. Her feet ached from the heels; she still didn't feel entirely comfortable in the short dress. She couldn't wait to go home and take a shower.

Peering around the entrance quickly to make sure no one was around her, Lisa leaned down quickly and slipped off her shoes. She sighed the moment her bare feet touched the cool linoleum. God that felt so good. She was going to have blisters. Damn new shoes.

Lisa exited the hotel after bidding the night manager a good night. He smiled at her and waved. With another yawn, she began walking through the dim parking lot. She kept her eyes on the parking lot, watching where she stepped to make sure she didn't step on something that would cause her pain later. Lisa was almost to her car when a pair of feet appeared in her line of sight. Her head jerked up as she stopped in her tracks. The tension in her body eased when she noticed who it was.

"I thought you went home."

Jackson grinned and shrugged. "Felt like waiting." His grin widened as he noticed her shoeless feet. A questioning look entered his eyes as he stared at her.

Lisa lifted her left hand and waved the offending shoes. "They were beginning to hurt my feet. Trust me, walking on pavement barefoot is much more preferable than walking in these demon shoes," she replied as she walked closer to his car

Jackson laughed. "I'll have to take your word on that."

"Did you have fun tonight?" Lisa asked as she leaned next to him against the car. "I mean, as much fun as you can at a high school prom."

"I enjoyed myself," he replied simply, his eyes turned up as he gazed at the stars.

"You seem like it," Lisa said softly.

Jackson turned to her and took in the somber expression on her face. He moved in front of her swiftly and grabbed hold of her hands, pinning her arms to the side of her car. She started to protest- so cute, really, he thought- but the words died on her mouth as she caught the look in his blue eyes. Before she could say anything else he lowered his head and brushed her lips softly with his.

He pulled away after the brief, chaste kiss and instead gazed down at her again. Lisa felt naked as Jackson's penetrating gaze roamed over her as if drinking in every part of her. She felt a tremble begin to travel along her skin and her heart began to pound when his eyes narrowed as he stared down at her.

She knew exactly what he was looking at.


His heart began to pound as his eyes took in the pale mark on Lisa's chest. The scar glowed slightly in the lamplight shining from above them. Jackson trailed his thumb over the aberration that marred her smooth skin. His eyes moved up to hers slowly. The almost abject fear he saw there took his breath away. "Lisa," he started.

"Um, I should go. It's late," she interrupted, grabbing his hand and stepping away. "Thank you for tonight. I really had fun."

Jackson stepped back as Lisa opened her car door and slipped in with one last small smile. The car started seconds later and with a short wave, Lisa drove off. He watched her leave, confusion grabbing hold of his mind and settling in. Maybe there's something about her I don't know.


Lisa curled up on her side, hugging a pillow to her chest. The room was dark, the blinds closed against the streetlamp outside. The red dress she had been wearing was crumpled on the floor by her bed. She had donned a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved shirt that covered all of her. She wanted nothing showing; she didn't want the world to see her right now.

She felt like an idiot. She had run away from Jackson when he had done nothing wrong. Lisa's fear from two years ago had overridden her rational thought. She never wanted to talk about it; never wanted anyone to know. Why didn't you just lie to him? Tell him anything but the truth?

Lisa curled up tighter, her arms clutching the pillow harder, and closed her eyes. She willed sleep to come. Maybe her dreams would be better than real life.


Jackson's eyes gazed at the computer screen, his eyes skimming over the words and they scrolled across his screen. There was nothing. No record of a Lisa Reisert in the police database or anything affiliated. Nothing but her work records and regular government records; her birth certificate, her social security number, her school records, even what camp she spent the summer at when she was ten. Of course he knew all of this already. He knew all of her information from when he was following her. None of this was new to him. He rubbed his eyes slowly. He had been up all night searching for some record, something that would offer him any information. And here it was, almost nine o'clock in the morning and still he had found nothing.

He had to know. One doesn't get a scar like she had by accident. Something had to have happened to her.

The sound of shuffling by his door drew his attention away from his laptop. Jackson stood up slowly, grabbing the gun he kept in the desk drawer. He made his way to the front door and stopped just at the side of it. A crunching sound caused him to look down. A manila folder was resting just inside of the door, obviously having been pushed in through the crack between the floor and the door.

Jackson opened the door slowly and poked his head out, looking up and down the hallway, trying to catch sight of anyone that was near. Finding no one, he tucked the gun in the back of his pants after switching the safety back on. He bent down and picked up the packet. Jackson scanned the folder, attempting to find any clue as to who sent it.

He walked back to his computer and opened the folder, tearing the flap open. Jackson reached into the packet and pulled out the pile of papers inside. His eyes narrowed as he flipped through the pages. "Son of a bitch."

Every page was a photo. Every photo of him and Lisa at the dance, dancing close, their arms wrapped around each other. The last picture was of them standing by her car, him hovering over her, their faces only inches apart.


AN: Hey guys! I'm back! I am so sorry for the wait, but I wound up sick again. It was difficult for me to write or type, but I did have this chapter running through my mind the entire time so I was able to write it as soon as I was better. My fingers are still a little numb, but I have control over them now and am actually able to write and type. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Please, let me know what you think!