On Your Mind

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

Chapter Fifteen

I'll never win…

Jackson would always be in control; always harm her and others if he succeeded. If he managed to kill Philippe, the only witness to his latest crimes, then Jackson had the power to cause her and baby Abby to disappear. He would be free to harm her and her daughter. Unless he was stopped that day, he would never stop. He would kill, maim, and manipulate to his heart's content.

She worriedly flicked her tearful green eyes towards Philippe. The psychiatrist was calmly staring down Jackson, who had slipped a knife from somewhere. She watched as he ripped the tape off Philippe's mouth. Philippe did not utter a sound, but Lisa knew that having tape ripped off your mouth was painful.

I'm so sorry that I drug you into this mess. You should have never been here. Everything should have just stayed between Jackson and me.

"Lisa," Philippe croaked; his voice dry and cracking from non-use. "Don't give up. You've come too far and been through too much."

"Is that so, Leese?" teased Jackson. "What have I ever done to you?"

She shifted under Jackson's penetrating gaze. "You…you hurt me. Raped me, tortured me, tried to kill me… You played games with my mind… What haven't you done to me?" Lisa cried.

"You have to keep fighting, Lisa. Think about your baby. What about her?" encouraged Philippe.

"Lisa won't ever fight me, now will you, Leese?" Jackson purred, touching the blade to Lisa's throat. "You remember my knife, don't you, sweetheart?"

She whimpered in pain as he lowered her shirt to reveal the more recent scar over her right breast and pressed the blade into it. He was smirking.

"Leave her alone!" Philippe called. "If you're pissed at someone, be pissed at me. I tried to keep her from you, remember?"

Why are you provoking the monster? Do you want to die?

It was in that moment that Lisa finally began to understand Philippe's words. Jackson would never stop. He would always hurt someone; he would always hurt her, and other people who helped her. People like Philippe. She was the only one who could stop him. She had to find the strength herself.

But how, Philippe? How do you expect me to stop him?

"True," agreed the manager, turning to Philippe instead. "Should I start with his fingers? Lisa?"

Her reply was a solid swing at his head with a fireplace poker that she had carefully lifted from beside her chair. He tumbled to the ground, blood dripping from the metal object onto the rug.

"Now, you're starting to piss me off too, Leese," he snarled bitterly.

"Good!" she yelled and swung again.

This time, his hand reached out and grabbed it; stopping her.

Fury rose in his eyes and Lisa grew scared. He was going to kill her now for disobeying him. By trying to help Philippe and herself, she had signed her own death warrant. It was only a matter of time…

Stop thinking that way!

Lisa yanked on the poker, trying desperately to swing again. Jackson hung on and with a vicious tug, sent her to the floor. She fell down—dazed—her body sprawled on the floor for precious moments. Moments that she needed to use to fight her captor.

She cried out in pain as he grabbed a fist full of her curly hair and pulled.

"No! No!" Lisa screamed as she twisted in his incensed grasp.

"Stop fighting!" he hissed in her ear while crushing her body against his. He was petting her hair possessively now. "Do you want me to kill our daughter?"

She continued to struggle wildly, striking at him as best she could in her compromised position. I have to get free! I have to help Philippe and I have to save Abby. I have to get away from him!

Contorting her body, Lisa twisted to grab some of Jackson's long hair and rip it from his scalp. He yelped and she clawed at his face, cutting the skin and making him bleed.

"Don't give up, Lisa! Keep fighting! Remember when he hurt you?" Philippe called out from his limited view on the floor. She doubted he could see her, but his voice was what mattered. He believed in her—believed that she could beat this monster in human form before her. He knew that she could win.

A glint caught her eye. His knife was lying beside them; forgotten in the frenzy. She cautiously picked it up and ferociously stabbed it into his chest near his heart. He moaned; infuriated blue eyes virtually popping out of his head as he realized what she had done.

Lisa pushed herself away from him before he could reach for her neck in retribution. She kicked at his chest and clumsily hurried to her feet.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, Leese?" demanded Jackson through gritted teeth. "You try to go for Abby and I'll shoot you right through your pretty skull before you make it two feet out the door."

She heard the gun click behind her back and she paused. Would he really do that? Is he that cold-blooded?

"Turn around," he ordered and she relented, slowly spinning to face him.

He was drenched in his own blood; his chest heaving with the knife still sticking out, yet the gun remained oddly steady in his hands. The manic glint in his chilled eyes frightened her to her very core.

"Keep fighting," she heard Philippe whisper from behind her and she gulped.

In a decidedly daring—and stupid—move, Lisa threw herself at Jackson and knocked him to the floor. They wrestled over the gun and it fired in the air once. He rolled over onto her and it fired again. The hilt of the knife pressed into her chest as she flung her head upwards to head-butt him. Their skulls connected and Jackson was stunned.

She swiftly shoved him off her body and tore the gun from his grasp. He smirked at her.

"Once again, you find yourself with a gun in your hand, but can you do it? Can you pull that trigger for a third time, Leese? Can you handle my murder on your conscience? Will you shoot to kill?" he taunted cockily. Like he knows me…

"Shut up!" Lisa shouted irritably, the gun shaking violently.

"You don't have the guts to do it."

"Relax, Lisa. Focus… Breathe…" Philippe coached.

She followed his suggestions and the trembling calmed.

I have to do something. I have to stop him. This can't go on any longer.

"Ever hear of retribution, Jack?" Lisa said with a smile.

I know what I have to do…

He glared at her coolly, not even bothering to comment.

She pulled the trigger once, then twice. The only sounds she heard were the reverberations of the gunshots and Jackson's cries of pain.

You deserved it, you bastard…

He clutched his blown kneecaps as she dropped the gun on the floor in disgust. Lisa bent down to see to Philippe, quickly untying his bonds and helping him to his feet.

"I'm proud of you, Lisa," he told her.

"Yeah? Me too…"

Sirens filled the air as she finally began to relax in Philippe's supportive embrace after he helped her from Jackson's office.

"Abby," she murmured. "What about her?"

"It's best if she's not present. She doesn't need any added psychological trauma," Philippe suggested. Lisa agreed silently.

"Ma'am?" a police officer called as he stepped in the room. "Your nanny called, complaining about shots fired? She assumed you or your husband were in a fight."

"We were. He's in the office."

"What happened?"

"It's a long story…" Lisa said, with a pointed glance back at Philippe, who smiled.

Author's Notes:

The ending was tricky and awkward. Part of me wanted to kill him, but part of me wanted him to live to suffer. Death almost seemed too good for him. Lisa will be safe from him now, but she's still going to have to fight to recover from the trauma. She is actually told that he died from complications by the police under Philippe's guidance.

Anyways, I'm working on a sequel that's called Deep, Dark Secrets and the prologue should be up later tonight.