Chapter 12: On the Edge

"You look beautiful, dear."

Lisa lowered her head trying to hide her blush. She absently smoothed her already perfectly laying dress. "Thanks, Mom. I can't believe I'm getting married."

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Wendy Reisert asked astonished as she pinned the veil into Lisa's curled hair. "You are a wonderful young woman. Any man would fall over himself for you."

"He has gone through a lot of trouble to get me."

Wendy nodded. "Yes, he has. More than any normal man." She gave one last tap on the hair clip then stood back admiring her daughter. Lisa's strapless gown flowed into a long train from her waist.

"Will you carry my train, Mom?"

"Of course, I will, dear."

The door to the church lobby swung open and Joe Reisert appeared. "It's time, Leese," he announced, a pang of sadness in his voice.

"Will you catch me, Dad, when I fall?"

Joe shook his head, sorrow clouding his eyes. "It's not my place anymore. You belong to him now."

"But I'll never belong to him," Lisa said, defiantly.

"It's too late, Lisa," her mother added. She bent and grabbed the train of Lisa's dress. Joe held out his arm to his daughter.

Lisa stood motionless as she gazed down the long aisle of the church to where her groom awaited her. His piercing blue eyes stung her even from far away, and Lisa turned away uneasily.

"Come along, Leese," her father urged. "It's time."

She looked wildly at her parents, her voice shaking. "Don't forget about me."

The church faded away, and Lisa found herself standing in a bedroom. She felt chilled then wrapped her arms over her chest, realizing she was only wearing a revealing lacy pink nightgown. She couldn't think straight. She couldn't remember how she got there.

Arms suddenly snaked around her waist, pulling her to a warm body. Lips met her ear. "Do you trust me?"

"No," Lisa replied in a shuttering whisper. She wanted to jerk away, but her limps would not respond.

"You'll have to sooner or later. I will take care of you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes."

An insistent call echoed over and over again through Lisa's muddled brain. She stirred, flinching involuntarily at the intense itching that burned from her left arm. A hand cupped her cheek, and Lisa forced her eyes open to see what was going on. She was welcomed by an uncharacteristically glad smile.

"You're finally awake," said Jackson, rubbing his thumb against her red cheek.

"What's going on?" Lisa mumbled every word an effort to speak.

"You have a fever, Leese," he answered seriously as if her life had been in grave danger. "It spiked an hour ago, but I managed to bring it down by medication and laying cool compresses over you."

Lisa squeezed her eyes shut and her head lolled to the side, defeated. Jackson was keeping her alive. The fever induced dreams were flooding her mind, and she let out a breath of frustration at the thought of what Jackson had promised her. He was taking care of her just has he promised.

"Like hell I'd let you die or suffer," Jackson said eerily as if her thoughts had floated up above her head.

"Then why I am here?" Lisa said in the smallest of voice.

Jackson's eyes sparked. "Because you belong here with me," he replied frankly. He lifted the cloth from Lisa's arm, revealing the poison oak rash the blisters dried and flaking. He wrung out a fresh cloth soaked in Burrow's solution and laid it over the rash. "Are you hungry?"

Lisa shook her head, sighing miserably.

"Well, you do need liquids." Jackson pushed off the bed. He examined Lisa for a moment before bending down, pressing a chaste kiss to her heated forehead. Lisa sluggishly placed her hand on his chest wanting to push him away, but Jackson rose up before she could take action. "Be good, Leese." With a wink, he left the room.

Lisa took several deep breaths listening to Jackson's footsteps descend down the stairs. When she couldn't hear them anymore, she pushed herself up struggling, her limps heavy as lead. She didn't know what she was doing. There was no chance of escape, especially now that she was ill. But she needed to get out of that bed, out of the bedroom. She needed air.

The place where Jackson had pressed the kiss still lingered, and Lisa rubbed at her forehead, trying to wipe away the feeling. The soaked cloth forgotten on the bed, she pushed herself to her feet, standing shakily. For a moment, she thought she was doing well, but as she went to take a step, Lisa's weak legs gave way and she dropped to the floor.