Sometimes…
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!
Chapter Fifteen
"What?" Jackson demanded in a mocking tone.
"I'm not Amy—there never was an Amy."
"Very clever, Leese. Very clever," he smirked.
"Why, Jackson? Why'd you do it? Why go to the trouble?" Lisa demanded, her memory falling back into place.
"Why not? It was the perfect revenge."
Lisa felt disgusted. He was right. What better way to hurt her than to make her fall in love with him, only to crush her?
"I can't believe I trusted you."
"You did more than that, Lisa. You loved me.Remember? You're my wife now."
"No," she shook her head. "Amy is your wife. I'm not Amy."
"Perhaps you want to take a look at the marriage license. It says 'Lisa Henrietta Reisert Rippner'."
"No."
Jackson smirked. Lisa felt terrible. This could not be happening. She could not be legally married to Jackson. That was almost worse than having feelings for him and oh, god, she had slept with him. She felt filthy.
"Like I promised, Lisa, you're mine. There's no getting away."
She screamed in frustration and struggled violently. Jackson laughed and easily kept her pinned down to the wall.
"Tsk, tsk," he reprimanded her. "What happened to behaving?"
"It went out the window when you stopped playing fair," she hissed.
"Lisa, honey, I never played fair."
"And I never behaved, remember?" she smirked at him, tracing a finger around the hole in his throat. "I fought the entire time."
Two could play this sick, twisted game of manipulation. They were both playing to win, and winning meant living. Jackson may have the upper hand at the moment, but Lisa was determined to change that. He had wronged her. He had used her for his own pleasure, as if she were some type of plaything for his demented mind games.
"And I rather enjoyed it, until you decided to stab me."
"You strangled me first."
"Lisa, let's not play these petty games. As much as I enjoy them, I enjoy you much more. Now what do you say we go back upstairs, huh?"
"I'm not your pet!" Lisa spat.
"Yes, you are. You're my wife, Leese. You're mine. You'll listen to your master. If I say jump, you ask how high."
"Never."
"Lisa, stop fighting. You know you don't want to. Plus, it's pointless. There is no escape from this house."
He was right; her beautiful house was nothing more than an elegant prison. Iron gates kept her fenced in. Wherever she ran, he would surely catch her. But maybe she did not need to escape—he would have followed her anyway. She just needed to out run him long enough to tip the scales in her favor.
She sighed dejected. "You're right."
"Good girl, Lisa. Now, go upstairs. No sudden movements or my knife will find its way into your back."
She nodded, unable to look in his eyes. He smiled triumphantly and released her. She slowly walked up the stairs, passing the dead man in her foyer, and knew Jackson was only a step behind her. The stairs were too risky.
Jackson was a psychopath—how could she have been so blind? How could she have possibly loved him? How on earth had she missed all the signs?
She was supposed to be strong, yet she had let him worm his way into her frozen heart and take advantage. What he had done was far worse than rape. She had been dominated and controlled by him through the manipulation of her own feelings. He had taken a guess and played the cards right, forcing her into his well-laid trap.
They reached the top of the stairs and Lisa wondered vaguely if she were going to her own execution.
"Now, stop," Jackson ordered. "Turn around and face me."
Lisa did as she was told, despite the urge to lash out. Now was not the time. She had to play the helpless victim a little while longer.
"I want you to look into my eyes—look at me, Leese," he hissed, grabbed her chin and pulling her face towards his. "Look in my eyes and tell me that you don't love me."
"You're despicable," she snarled.
"You still love me, Lisa. You know it."
"No, I don't Jack. I can't stand you."
Jackson pretended to be wounded. "Aw, that hurt."
She snorted.
"Okay, I'm gonna tell you what's gonna happen. We're going to go into the room," he pointed to their bedroom. Lisa felt sick. "And you're gonna…"
She could not take it anymore. She brought her head forward and head-butted him. He cried out more in surprise than pain. Lisa brought her knee into his groin, eliciting a moan from him as he crumbled to the floor. She snatched up the knife from him, keeping it from him.
He yanked her ankle, pulling her down to the floor with a yelp. She kicked him in the face, breaking his nose with a crunch. He growled at her as she clamored to her feet and took off, into the bedroom, headed for the nightstand.
Sure enough, there was another gun and she recognized it as hers. She ran her hand over the .45, cherishing the familiarity of the gun. How had Jackson gotten it?
"Lisa," he rasped, his thin frame blocking the doorway. "You're making this way too much fun, you know? I always loved the chase—that's why I picked you."
"No, you picked me because you thought I was easy. I was a target."
His eyes flicked to the gun in her hand. "You think you could really kill me, Leese?"
"I know I could, Jack. I've known since I almost killed your sorry ass. I wish I had finished it then."
He jumped at her, knocking her to the floor. The gun skittered out of her grasp, sliding away on the hardwood floor. She screamed and punched at him, telling him to let her go. He pressed into her, holding her body down with his.
"No! No! Jackson, no!" she cried, fighting as much as she could. This could not be happening. Not again!
"What? You think I'm going to rape you, Lisa?"
"Yes! That's exactly what I think!"
She hated him; she hated that he knew everything about her. He could crawl inside her brain and know her feelings and thoughts before she did. It was an invasion of privacy.
"I wouldn't do that to you."
"I don't believe you. I can't trust you, Jackson!"
"Is that what this is all about? Trust? Lisa, you can't trust anyone. Anyone but me. I never lie, remember?" he was smirking again, cocky and pleased with himself.
She stopped fighting again. He kissed her forcefully and caused her to moan in pleasure. She hated her body's response to him. She wanted to hate him, she really did.
"Jackson," she gasped as his kisses trailed away from her mouth. "If we're gonna do this, can we do it on the bed? Please?"
Jackson sighed and helped her up. She elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to double over and slid across the floor in search of her gun. She found it and ran past him, back into the hallway.
"You're a feisty little bitch, you know that Leese?" he called after her.
She was waiting for him, both hands on the gun. Her finger was on the trigger and the safety catch was off. She was going to kill him.
"And you never learn."
"So, tell me, Lisa… Where are you gonna shoot me? The head? The heart?"
In response, Lisa shot him in the right knee. He cried out and fell down, sagging against a large window that over looked the backyard. "Bitch!" he hissed.
"Bastard!" she smirked, shooting him in the left knee now.
Crimson blood was pooling around him on the tile of the hallway. "You're running your house, Lisa."
"Shut up, Jack. I refuse to be your puppet."
"You seemed to enjoy listening to my commands last night."
Lisa let out a disgusted gasp and shot him in the right shoulder. He only winced this time.
"You know, I always wondered how you'd kill people, Leese. You'd make a good assassin or a manger," he smiled, baiting her.
"Never."
Bang! Another bullet lodged itself in Jackson's left shoulder.
"Aw, what a shame—we would have been a great team."
Lisa really wanted to stick a bullet between his crystal eyes but she wanted him to suffer longer. He needed to feel pain after what he had done to her.
"Gonna hit my heart next, Lisa? The heart that constantly thinks of you?" he teased.
Lisa took a step closer. Jackson's bloody chest heaved and he leaned heavily on the window.
"No, I'm going to do this," she hissed, striking the window with the gun, releasing her anger on the weakened glass. She beat her fists as well, blooding her knuckles. Jackson weakly laughed at her. The window was not coming down.
She turned on the gun on it; firing three widespread shots into the glass. Jackson's eyes went wide in shock as he heard the glass crackling.
"Good-bye, Jack," she hissed as he fell through the window, falling almost three stories below to meet his fate on the patio.
"Love you, Leese," he gasped before falling.
Lisa rushed to the window frame, looking down. Jackson Rippner lay below, his body splayed at odd angles and his neck broken.
Lisa took a deep breath before calmly calling the police to collect two bodies—the dead man in the foyer and the body of her husband. Her abuser, her controller…her love.
Two months later, Lisa attended Jackson'squiet funeral. Joe had urged her not to, but she had insisted upon laying her demons to rest. She was left alone for a few moments before the casket was closed. Jackson was dressed in a fresh suit and his blue eyes were closed forever. He looked as if he were sleeping, yet Lisa knew that the collar hid a broken, scarred neck, the jacket covering the two bullet wounds in the shoulders, and the neatly pressed pants covered his blown knees. All of it was her doing. The only piece of him, not injured was his face, and even then, his broken nose had been set as best it could.
"I'm sorry that it had to end this way, but I could never have lived that way. Neither of us could. I hope you understand..." her voice trailed off.
Lisa bent down and kissed Jackson. His face was cold, but she did not care. He could not hurt her anymore.
"I still love you," she whispered, before closing the lid herself, locking Jackson's body in the polished box for eternity.
Her right hand found its way to her stomach. Inside, a child was growing. Their child… And one day, she would have to explain why they did not have a father. She would have to explain that she loved Jackson too much and that was why she had to kill him.
The truth hurt…
Author's Notes:
That's all! Okay, this was the longest chapter. Hopefully that ties everything up. Enjoy!
