Bad Things Happen
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!
Chapter Three
Jackson limped into the spotless, expensive elevator in the first-class office building he had slipped into, thanks to a key that allowed him through the front doors after hours. He rode the elevator up to the top floor and slowly made his way down the long tiled hallway. He winced occasionally when he jarred his leg too much. He was beginning to wish that he had been smart enough to steel some pain killers from the hospital. Whatever had been in his system was wearing off and he needed major drugs to combat the pain. Maybe leaving was not such a good idea…
Then again, had he hung around, he would have either a: been arrested, or b: died. There was no room for failure and failures were terminated, even if they had the long success record that he had kept over the course of several years. His record had been spotless until now.
He had been planning on retiring soon anyways. It was almost a blessing in disguise. Almost being the key word.
Having assassins on your tail was not exactly what he had in mind. He had been thinking more along the lines of a quiet, private beach somewhere with a certain green-eyed woman…whoa, where had that come from?
He shook his dark head. No, his retirement certainly had no room for the likes of Lisa Reisert. He had once had feelings for her, but no longer. She had screwed him over with fighting back and now he was on the run for his miserable life. Running had never been part of the plan. The plan that she had shot all to hell.
Jackson stopped in front of a thick, mahogany colored wooden door. He withdrew a key from his pocket and unlocked the door before slipping inside the pitch black room. He quickly shut the door and flipped on the lights before dead-bolting the door and using other various locks. No one was getting through that door if he could help it.
He sank his weary body onto the plush leather couch and tried to relax his erratic breathing as his heart pounded a hole in his chest. He had to think of a way out of this mess.
Once he was feeling better, the former assassination manager got to his feet and headed into the small bathroom, where he pulled out the first aid kit and tended to his wounds. The neck wound was fine, but the bullet holes and other minor wounds were bleeding slightly. He cleaned and rebandaged all of his wounds, just to be safe. He was not going to risk catching an infection. Hospitals and doctors would not be safe. It was a damn good thing that he was extremely independent and had dealt with far more serious injuries before.
Jackson grabbed some generic pain medication from the first aid kit and swallowed the pills dry in one gulp. Oh, how he needed the pain to go away! It was obscuring his mind; his logic. The pain alone could get him killed. One mistake was all it would take.
Now, there was no way that even Lisa—who knew him rather well—would be able to identify his remains. Even his dental records probably would not be of use. He was in for one hell of a violent death.
Should he have just let them kill him? Just fallen asleep and kept sleeping, never to wake again? No, no he still wanted to deal with Lisa. He had to deal with her, but not until the mess that she had created was cleaned up. Then he would have his revenge and fun.
Jackson sighed and slipped his jacket off to use as a blanket. Then he stretched out on the leather couch after flicking off the dim lights and closed his icy eyes. He yawned and found himself falling into a much needed deep sleep.
Author's Notes:
This chapter's kind of on the short side. In case anyone's wondering, Jackson's in his office, well one of them. He needed a temporary hiding spot. Enjoy!