I May Have To Steal You

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!

Chapter Forty-nine

Jackson groaned as he came around. He rolled over on the floor, until he faced the ceiling, and laid there for a few minutes. As he shifted around, trying to determine where the pain was coming from, the crinkling of paper could be heard. His blue eyes searched for the source of the crinkling and found that it was a piece of paper tucked into his jacket pocket. He pulled it out and smoothed the wrinkled paper.

Curly, yet semi-shaky, handwriting covered the paper. Lisa's handwriting. He began to read.

Jackson (or Jack, as the case may be)

I'm sorry for leaving like this, but I had to go. You can't be a manager and have a normal life. You may not remember, but you nearly strangled me to death in the kitchen, when I saw your papers. If my dad had not walked in when he did, you could have killed me. Jackson, I love you, but I can't live like this.

Don't try to find me. Try to change yourself. Who are you? I'll come back when you find out.

Lisa

Jackson folded the letter neatly and replaced it in his pocket, despite the inclination to crumple it up and toss it away. He would have to keep it as a reminder of what he lost and why. It was his fault that Lisa left. He had broken their unspoken pact. He had attacked her with the intention of killing her. He could vaguely remember his hand wrapped around her slender throat, crushing her windpipe as she thrashed around, trying in vain to fight him off.

He had been in control, but at what cost? He nearly killed the only person he loved. He had lost to his manager side and used force to control Lisa. Control did not matter when it hurt her.

But how was he to control himself? How could he keep from unleashing his manager side? The side that Lisa hatefully called 'Jack'?

Jackson stood up and breathed in deeply, trying to calm down. It did not work, so he flipped the table over, scattering the hated papers that had lost him Lisa's trust. He felt slightly better until he headed up the stairs and into the bedroom. All of Lisa's belongings were gone and so were a few of Jackson's shirts and jackets.

He flew into a rage again, this time punching out a bathroom mirror with his fist, and throwing a glass lamp across the room. Then he sank down to the floor, his back against the bed. His despair had swallowed him whole. His Lisa had left him.

And it was entirely his fault. He had done it to himself. Why couldn't he be in control of himself? He was able to be in forceful control of Lisa, yet he could not subtly control his damn emotions. What the hell was wrong with him?

Why couldn't he just become the nice person that he knew he should be? Why must he fight for control of himself? Why couldn't he just stop being a manager and be with Lisa?

Lisa. That was all that ever mattered now and he lost her. He lost his Lisa. All because of a stupid mistake. He never should have tried being a manager again. He should have known that it would end up this way. It always would because of how he acted. He used to fine around her, but no more. She had been right in leaving.

But how his heart ached. He wanted his Lisa back.

He would do everything in his power to be the man she knew he was. He would be the Jackson that she loved, as long as she came back. He would find a way to fight the impulses if it meant that she would return.


Two months passed; the first one being the hardest. Jackson had to fight the urges every day to kill someone or manage them. He locked himself up in their house, refusing to expose himself to other people. Separation was hard because it meant that Lisa was away from him as well. The only thing that kept him going was the image of her and the memories. They gave him hope and reminded him what he was fighting for.

Jackson burned the papers for the jobs. He burned his cell phone as well, deleting any and all contacts. He packed any and all weapons far away, including his trusty knife. Lisa had taken a gun with her, which was one less weapon for him to hide.

He spent his days pacing the house, cursing at himself, and trying to stop the memories of killing and how much he had enjoyed it. Oh yes, he had enjoyed it at the beginning, right after he murdered his parents. Everyone that he was assassinated was Roberts, and each death was a victory against his older half-brother. Eventually, the novelty wore off and he wanted out. But there never seemed to be an out. He was far too good at what he did. He was emotionless, detached, and extremely cold. He showed no mercy in his jobs, and if an associate misbehaved, he did not hesitate to kill him with his always-sharpened knife.

Jackson had to combat the memories. He had to convince himself that he had changed and that he no longer wanted any part in his former occupation. Sure, the pay had been excellent, but the job had gotten tedious lately, and he just wanted to be safe—and at home—with Lisa. Every thing that he was going through at the moment was because of her.

He was slowly going insane, and thought briefly of committing himself to an insane asylum, but then he knew that he would never see Lisa again.

The once invincible, Jack Rippner was beginning to finally crack.


"Why don't you go home?" a kindly waitress asked one evening as she spotted Lisa, still sitting in a corner of the diner. "You've been here a long time."

"I can't," Lisa replied, softly, twirling her wedding ring around on her finger.

"Why not, sweetie? You have a husband, right? I'm sure he misses you."

"It's not a question of him missing me, but a question of is it safe to go home," she said with a sigh.

"Why would that be?" pried the waitress, sitting down across from the young woman.

"He loves me, but he's got two sides. One is sweet and other is… well it's a killer. He would never hurt me, not intentionally, but lately, he's been getting worse. I have to leave until he straightens out."

"Is he a killer?"

"No, he was an assassination manager a long time ago, but he has the mindset of a killer. He knows so many ways to kill someone, that it'd make your head spin," Lisa stately grimly.

"How did you meet this fella?"

"In an airport of all places," giggled Lisa. "On a red eye flight. He was so nice and charming—until he threatened to kill my dad if I didn't help him. Even after everything that happened, I still felt something for him, and he felt something for me. We spent much of our beginning time together on the run. We saved each other's lives and everything was fine, until I fell into a coma. That pushed him back to his old ways, and not but more than a month later, I ran for it."

"That's so sad," was all the waitress said.

"I miss him so much," whispered Lisa, tears coming to her eyes.

"Do you have any children?"

"Oh, no, not yet. We did, but I miscarried early in the pregnancy due to a car accident."

"What a shame."

"Yeah," said Lisa, softly, as her fingertips ran across her stomach.

Author's Notes:

Sorry that it took me a few days to update. School and being sick caught up to me again. Anyways, one more chapter to go in this story. Enjoy!