"Know me?" she squeaked as she pulled further away. Jackson hated to break it to her but unless she could walk through walls as well as read palms, she wasn't going anywhere.
And he didn't respond to her sheepish inquiry either, preferring she draw her own conclusions and terrorize herself for a change. He could use the break.
Renee was quiet as a mouse; her eyes shifting non-stop between him and the bathroom door, terrified over having been separated from her sister and wondering what was taking place behind closed doors. That also worked to his advantage or so he thought. With Renee's continued silence, the only sounds they heard came from the television and of course, Elizabeth. Duct tape, duct tape, his kingdom for a roll of duct tape so that he might silence that girl and be done with it.
"Scratched my sister…you fight like a woman…pansy," she chided and when he heard those remarks, Jackson had to fight hard to maintain his stern expression. It would seem that Elizabeth was good for a laugh after all and he had a clear picture of his brother trapped in that confined space just itching to kill his companion. Ten minutes or so locked in with her and Jackson would never have to chastise him again; Elliot would be traumatized for life.
"Better him than me," Jackson thought and felt grateful that he had his hands on the 'good' sister.
But Elliot and Elizabeth were arguing quietly and all was right with the world. He could take time out of his day to teach the rebellious young Renee a lesson. He pressed against her, relishing the feeling, the pronounced rise and fall of her chest as she breathed frantically.
"And by that, you automatically assume I mean rape, why?" he asked, furrowing his brow as she continued to hyperventilate.
She didn't speak. She just looked up at him with those sad sack eyes, shaking her head 'no' as if the very thought was intolerable. Was that all it took?
"You're small minded," he spat in disregard. "I can think of plenty of things worse than that."
Then he stepped away, leaving her in her little corner of the room so he could sit comfortably on the bed. He only took his eyes off her for a second as he sat but still, he heard it; that faint whisper, the slight she no doubt believed would go unnoticed. "I bet you could." She spoke so softly it was almost indistinguishable over the sound of the mattress springs compressing under the weight of his body. So soft that anyone else would not have known she'd spoken at all.
"What did you say, Renee?"
"Nothing," she mumbled.
Very cute. What to do with this one? With her shaky legs and nervous visage, he should feel sorry for her but then came the wise ass remark in all its supposed subtlety. Which one is it, he wondered, realizing there could be only one way to find out.
"Look at me, Renee," he demanded and when she did glance in his direction, he showed her the gun, holding it in the air and twisting it in all directions rather dramatically before placing it on the nightstand.
Her gaze fell on the discarded weapon straight away and the fear in her eyes that had been so vivid and believable seconds ago, vanished. Jackson wondered if it had ever truly been there to begin with.
"Do you want it?" he asked, testing her just a little further. "Try to take it. I might not stop you."
As he expected, she took several steps toward him, or the nightstand to be exact, before she lost her nerve – her brief attempt at bravery stifled by her inherent mistrust and propensity to hesitate. Shyness, he lamented; such a useless trait.
"There's something you should know about me," he began. "I'm not an assassin in the traditional sense of the word. I'm a Manager, which means I not only orchestrate, I recruit and in order to do that effectively, I have to be observant, I have to read people and I have a knack for spotting an individuals hidden potential. Would you like to know what I see when I look at you, Renee?"
"What?" she asked.
"I see a woman destined for greatness if she would only learn to trust her instincts. But you won't allow yourself to do that, not consistently, because you're inhibited…for one reason or another."
Anger flashed behind her eyes. She was insulted, probably embarrassed as well but Jackson knew she would neither say nor do anything to defend this attack on her character. To prove his point, he slid further down the length of the bed, putting some distance between himself and the nightstand. He couldn't level the playing field anymore than that. The ball was in her court now; she would have to prove him wrong.
"What are you going to do, Renee? Can you get to the gun before I do? Are you that fast?"
She shifted her weight back and forth between each leg, her body eager to make the dash, her mind holding her back.
"If I take the gun back, I might very well kill you and your sister, despite everything I told you before. You've certainly made me angry enough," he menaced.
She was jarred by the words. They hit harder than a bullet and she took her eyes off his gun and looked directly at him, studying his face for any trace of humanity. She couldn't believe it, couldn't accept the things he'd said because, in truth, nobody liked to hear the word kill, not when it pertained to them directly. This time he was positive that the trembling that wracked her body was genuine.
"Don't panic. Trust your instincts," he said calmly.
And again, she stood there like a statue as he knew she would. The only part of her body that seemed capable of movement was her eyes, which darted back and forth between him and the gun; her sister forgotten for the time being. All that rapid eye movement, it was starting to give him a headache. He could only speculate as to how high the pressure was building inside her head.
"I'll give you to the count of five," he said, growing bored with the test as it currently stood and deciding to up the ante, bringing it to close for both their sakes. "Five…four…three," and as the number two escaped his lips, she darted toward the weapon.
"One," he said hurriedly before he lunged for the firearm, snatching it from the nightstand an instant before she got there.
Renee stumbled forward and if not for his steadying hand, would have crashed into that small piece of furniture. "Oh, you were so close. I was rooting for you, Renee."
He pulled her against him even as she attempted to worm away and with his free hand he pressed the gun against her cheek, ending those struggles in short order.
"I would have given it to you, you know. If I had been wrong, I'd deserve to be shot," he informed her and she could do little more than sulk in the face of his self-assuredness.
He shouldn't be so enamored with her he told himself. This was his possessive nature rearing its ugly head; something he considered both his greatest asset and his biggest fault. At its best, it kept him focused on finishing his tasks with a borderline obsessive drive. At its worst, it turned people into property and trivial matters into things he could not let go. The disappointment he saw in her when faced with failure was only vaguely satisfying. It should have been more. His only consolation was that, captivated though he may be, her safety was by no means guaranteed. It didn't mean he would take it easy on her.
"Don't take it so hard, darling. You're green, that's all," he mocked.
She sobbed, just once under the crushing weight of that defeat before she wilted in his arms like a rag doll. "What did you learn, Renee?" he asked, wondering if she were bright enough to know that they were doing more than playing a harmless game of Red-Light, Green-Light. Did she understand the significance of his lesson?
"Don't hesitate," she whispered against his shoulder and the response surprised him. She was a fast learner.
He pulled her with him, away from the bed and he set the gun back down knowing that she would not fight him any longer and wanting the use of both hands. He steered her across the room to the dresser and its large, finger print laden mirror. On the way, Jackson paused again by the bathroom door. Awfully quiet in there, he thought. Maybe Elliot had found a hand towel large enough to fill Elizabeth's voluminous mouth?
Standing behind Renee, he gripped the back of her head, taking hold of her short hair and tilting her head back and to the left so her neck and upper portion of her shoulder were exposed.
"Do you know what I see when I look at you now?" he asked. "A waste; just a southern girl with ratty clothes and a hack job haircut."
He watched her harden; saw the armor go up and he wondered if maybe, just maybe he could tear it down again. He knew how to anger her; that was simple and he was curious to see if he could turn it around – soothe her, comfort her. The ability to drive her emotions would signify that he knew her completely.
"You could be more," he continued, borrowing from her recent conversation with Elliot. "If you would let me strip you of those inhibitions, you could be so much more."
"You would do that for me?" she asked sarcastically. "Would that be another one of your managerial perks?"
"No…consider it part of your employee benefit package."
He couldn't contain his laughter, even as the woman in his arms began to fight.
"Come on, Renee, you walked right into that one," he joked. "And why do you always assume that my interest in you lies solely below the belt? Maybe I want you for your mind?"
"Because you're so…so," she began.
The change that came over her during the course of that fractured sentence was remarkable. Her initial reaction, stemming from that more disobedient side of her personality scoffed at the notion and truly, it was absurd. He wasn't looking for a new hire even if his current sidekick was incompetent. When that actuality set in, he saw her tractable side emerge and in her wisdom, she decided to answer him truthfully. The transition had been fascinating
"I'm so what? Say it, Renee."
He knew what was coming but wanted to hear her say it and fueled by that desire, his hand left her hair and he crossed his arms in front of her body, his hands coming to rest just above her belt and effectively pinning her arms at her side.
"Sexual," she finished and blushed.
Jackson could feel her right arm start to move, instinctively rising to cover her mouth as though she had just uttered a dirty word. He didn't allow it. Instead, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on the side of her neck so gentle and surprising, it took her breath away.
"Sexual," he repeated. "That word sounds so cute coming from you. You make it sound scandalous and maybe I am being a little sexual? I can't help it Renee; it's part of who I am. In case you didn't notice, there's no halo hanging over this head."
Fingers still resting on the waist band of her shorts, Jackson quickly went to work. Within seconds, the snap popped open and she jumped, bucking against him while she tried to free her arms from his ever constrictive bear hug. A useless endeavor to be honest; his hands would roam wherever they pleased.
"Shh," Jackson whispered, pressing his lips against her shoulder. "It's time for another lesson, Renee: poise."
He made short work of her zipper, sliding the shorts down an inch or so to give his hand room to explore and explore it did; touching and kneading every inch of skin within its grasp. But then something caught his interest. Her hip bone; seemed like a silly thing to become fixated on and he briefly wondered why, until it dawned on him. It had come to his attention because he didn't like it and he remembered when they were on that bed and his hands had traveled north, her ribs had also been prominent. He didn't like that either. She had an underfed look about her and it brought to mind her financial situation. But it was impossible to think that her family would just sit idly by while she starved to death. Perhaps the burden of all the debt, compounded by the divorce itself had literally eaten away at her.
Too much worry over such mundane things. If she wanted to get anywhere in life she would have to stop making herself such an easy target.
Disregarding those thoughts for the time being, Jackson traced along the delicate, lace trimmed ridge of her panties, never plunging lower, only lingering. Whether it was a veiled threat or a promise of things to come remained to be seen.
"Stay calm," he whispered in her ear.
This was the game and he walked the fine line with ease, learning just how far he could push her. Too much too soon and he'd have an all out battle on his hands. He could do whatever he wanted with her, that was true but taking out his aggressions by forcing himself on her would be the easy way out. To be honest, he'd much rather hear her moan his name than scream it; to know that he had turned loathing into lust – the two being so close to begin with. If he waited, if he let her grow accustomed to the feeling of his hand on her hip in this quiet setting with no weapons and no company before lavishing her pretty neck with his affections, her struggles would be halfhearted at best; more requisite than anything else. Hers would be a quiet seduction.
"Stop," she pleaded in a breathy voice when his lips touched her ear.
Jackson smiled again. Even as she told him 'no', she leaned into his kiss.
Women, he loved them, truly he did but they were so predictable; always playing hard to get in an effort to save face. Every last one of them shared those magic spots, the ones he could touch in just such a way that it felt as though a current of electricity were pulsing through their bodies and the woman he held now was no different. The only exception; each time he hit one of those spots and she felt a little tingle between her legs, she would curse herself for being weak and hate him for having the knowledge.
"Was I being too sexual again?' he asked.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because you're inhibited, Renee; you're an inhibited woman and I enjoy seeing you so flustered."
"I'm not flustered."
"Okay, excited then."
More blushing on her part and Jackson tried to remember a time when he had seen another human being turn such a vibrant shade of red.
"It's hard to make sense of it all, isn't it, Renee? The fear you can understand. It's supposed to be there; it keeps us alive, but the desire, the lust – they make it hard to breathe," he said and the next time his lips grazed across the surface of her skin, he felt her shudder. "I feel it too; everyday. That desire, the will to succeed, to take the things I want. Don't you want things, Renee? Don't you feel the urge to take your pleasure wherever you find it?"
"Some…sometimes," she answered.
Another honest answer and another surprise for him; he was almost at a loss for words.
"Act on it…," he whispered on impulse, and he began to feel like that proverbial devil perched atop her shoulder goading her towards ruin. "Stop denying yourself the things you want, I don't. Why does strong desire always have to be wrong?"
"But, I, I don't desire you."
Denial; such a sad thing, easily enacted by those who refused to face the truth and he knew that's what it had to be because when he tugged at her shorts a second time, to the point where she had to hold them to prevent them from falling to her ankles, that's all she did. She never made any attempt to stop him.
"Really?" he ventured and after she paused to lick her lips, Renee answered 'yes'.
"My touch has no effect of you?"
"It doesn't."
Teasing her to see if she dared open her eyes, Jackson began to walk those previosly still but restless fingers along the edge of her panties and allowed his tone of voice to grow inquisitive, as though he were on the verge of solving some great mystery.
"I see; so if I let my hand slither a few inches lower and slip between your thighs, I'd find you dry as a bone?"
That did it; trance broken she began to fight in earnest – harder than he had expected, twisting and thrashing with such force it took all his strength to hold her still.
"Poise, Renee. Don't get offended, prove me wrong."
"You're a pervert," she hissed and Jackson let her go, pushing her into the dresser. He didn't want her anymore.
"Maybe," he said as he watched her compose herself and marveled at just how far they had gone. "But you're the one who's blushing."
She was infuriated as well she should be. That was the price one paid for being presumptuous and daring to tell a lie. Had she been truthful from the beginning this never would have happened and he would have respected her. Right now, he wasn't sure how he felt; only knew that she wasn't off the hook just yet. As she fumbled with her shorts and tried to calm herself, Jackson reached out and grabbed her jaw. The lecture wasn't over and he would settle for nothing less than her undivided attention while he finished.
"The lesson here is not hesitation, it's not poise; the lesson is not to play around with me. I won't be beaten at my own game and next time, I will kill you without a second thought. You would be stupid to think otherwise."
After his concerted effort, he should have felt confident that they had reached an understanding but he didn't. Though her face was turned upward, her eyes were swimming; drifting up, down, to the side – anywhere but on him and he found that maddening.
"God damn it, why can't you look at me?" he asked.
He got tears and a few whimpers in response and knew that the moment was gone. It was pointless to talk to her when she got all blubbery like this. Releasing his hold, he took two steps away from her before he turned back around, needing that small distance although he wasn't entirely sure why.
"I'll tell you why your plan failed – you assumed too much. You thought you knew me. You don't know a damn thing."
Using the tips of his fingers, he lightly turned her face towards his, knowing that he drew more pleasing responses from her when he used a gentle touch. Now that he had her attention, he waved his palm in front of her face. Done out of curiosity and the want to test her abilities, he perked up when he saw her sudden interest.
"What do you see, Renee?"
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Author's Note: Well, it took a little longer to polish this chapter up but here it is. I hope you enjoy. Lots of psychological warfare and innuendo between these two, but it's so much fun to watch them battle!
In the next chapter, a bomb drops, so to speak.
Thanks to emptyvoices for her thoughts and suggestions and thanks in advance to everyone for taking the time to read and/or review.