Thanx for all the reviews guys

BregoBeauty – expect to see more of the same in the next few chapters…and thanx for reviewing

MinaNicka – I thought people might figure out the ending, but ah well, I'm the writer, I can put whoever I want in trouble…Muwahahaha…anyway, thanx for the review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Red Eye. Wes Craven owns it.

And the person in trouble this time is your dear friend Cynthia.

"Cynthia?" Lisa asked, her voice cracking. "Why is it Cyn?"

"Because, Lise…" Jackson said, rolling his eyes "…the whole idea of posting a hitman outside the home of someone you care about is that you DON'T WANT THEM TO GET HURT." He yelled the last few words, although his voice sounded slightly strained.

Hearing the strain in his voice, Lisa smirked. "Is that what I did to you, Jack?" she taunted.

His eyes flashed with anger, but in answer, Jackson loosened his shirt at the neck, revealing a small, pink, circular scar where she had stuck a pen in the neck.

"That's not all I did to you, is it Jack?" she asked, continuing to use his loathsome childhood nickname.

"No Lise, that wasn't all you did to me. But I haven't given YOU any scars yet, have I? Not physical scars, anyway. Still, keep annoying me like you are and that will change" he said, fixing his eyes on her with a glare which the phrase "if looks could kill" was made for.

She kicked out at him, trying to connect her feet with the marks she made previously, however Jackson was quicker than she was, and he caught hold of her feet and held them tightly.

"That's not really a good idea, now, is it Lise?" he said in an amused voice, letting go of her feet once she'd stopped struggling.

In answer, she rolled off the bed and scrabbled to get up, a task she found tricky due to her wrists still being tied. Before she had managed to get up, Jackson was upon her, kneeling on her legs and holding her wrists. Ignoring both her squirming and trying to escape his clutches, and the look of pain etched on her face caused by his body weight resting on her legs.

"Bad girl Lise…I'm going to tie your feet now as well. Much as I love chasing after you when you decide to make a break for it, it doesn't do you any good at all."

Lisa rolled her eyes at Jackson. "Men are so predictable. I'm sure if I kept fighting you'd probably end up knocking me out…and you try and pretend to be such an enigma Jack…I don't think so somehow"

"Lisa, remember who is in control here. ME. Not you, but me. So you can struggle all you like, mouth off as often as you like, but remember one thing – I will win" he said chillingly, his eyes betraying no warmth or emotion whatsoever.

"Like you won last time, Jack?" she said mockingly.

He slapped her face for that remark, and she looked defiantly at him, as if to say "thought you'd do that".

"Ok, Lisa, that's enough. And stop calling me Jack" he ordered, moving off her legs and yanking her to a sitting position. Then he dragged her over to the wardrobe, opened it, and grabbed a scarf.

"Lisa, get on the bed. Now!" he snapped. The hate and anger in his voice sent shivers down her spine. Jackson, she mused to herself, was not in the mood for argument. It would likely end up very badly for her if she resisted. Reluctantly, she sat on the bed and shuffled upwards until her back was against the wall.

"Good girl. Now put your ankles together" he said calmly, all the emotion and hatred from his voice had vanished.

She did so. He tied them using the scarf. She winced as the scarf began to cut off the circulation. Looking at Lisa's face, Jackson loosened them ever so slightly – they were still tight enough to do the job, but they weren't cutting off the circulation anymore.

"Now Lise, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Instead of answering his question, Lisa responded with a question of her own.

"Jackson, why do you go from being nice and caring one minute, and then threatening and callous the next?"

He looked at her properly for the first time since their kiss. She had a plaster on her forehead, from where she had slipped. One side of her face was scarlet from where he had slapped her. She was covered in bruises, and her wrists and ankles were ties. And she awaited his reaction to her question with fear, certain she'd get hit again. It was the fear in her eyes that stopped the bubbling rage from spilling over. Instead, he managed to calmly answer her question.

"Its because I have a quick temper, basically. Take this morning. We were relaxed, and being…nice…and then Michael showed up, and I got annoyed. Then we…" here he blushed, his iceberg eyes filling with laughter "…then we, er…kissed. Which was, while we're on that subject, rather nice. But then you stopped it, and started saying all that stuff. And I knew that what you were saying was right, yet I saw red.

And then there was the fight, and now thing. I don't know why I flit from the two. But I will say this: So do you. One minute you'll be quiet, and let me look after you. Next minute, you'll be hitting me over the head with a rolling pin"

As he finished speaking, Lisa nodded her agreement.

"Well, for me, it's a fear thing. I don't like being controlled. It all goes back to…that day" she said quietly. She raised her eyes to look at Jackson, expecting to see sympathy in his eyes, but instead she saw amusement.

"Lise, last time you started talking about that incident, I ended up with a pen in my neck. What's your game this time?"

Mentally, she cursed herself. She should've known that he would have seen through her. Slowly, she unclenched her fists – hidden in her hands was a small penknife. One look at the bindings that were holding her wrists together told Jackson that one or two more cuts with the knife and she'd have regained the use of her hands.

The change in him was terrifying to Lisa. He grabbed her ankles and yanked them towards him so that she was lying on the bed. Then he walked to the side of the bed and grabbed her wrists, discarding of the bindings that held them, andholding them in one hand. She squirmed in his grasp, but he soon stopped that by picking up her ankles. Shifting her until she lay in his arms, he carried her through to the kitchen. She was puzzled by what he was going to do – had she known the answer, she would have burst out laughing.

"Now Lise, sit down there" he said, placing her in a chair and handcuffing her left wrist to the arm of the chair.

"What are you doing Jackson?" Lisa asked, her voice shaking.

"Making lunch – cooking soothes me. Which is good for both you and me. Now sit down, shut up, move and I'm knocking you out. Got it?" he asked, having satisfied himself that she couldn't escape.

"Got it. A little surprised that I'm still conscious, but anyway" Lisa said. Jackson only laughed.

Ok – that's this chapter done. I'm not keen on it at all, so I just want to get it over with and move on to the next few chapters – which, by the way, are my personal favourites…;)

Criticism, both Positive and negative is welcomed as always

DTLNH