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Chapter 3
The freshly-mown lawn was smooth and slippery under Lisa's bare feet, and with every step she took she slid a little. This didn't stop her. She ran as fast as she could through her backyard, the pungent smell of grass in her nostrils. Jackson was panting somewhere behind her and this only egged her on. It was his voice that made her stop.
"Leese," he called breathlessly. "Leese, I know how you love the thrill of the chase, but I'm not going to keep doing this. Either you come with me, or…"
Lisa should have kept running. She should've leapt over the stupid white picket fence in front of her, should've gone crashing into her neighbor's house as fast as she could, should've called the police. But she stopped. "Or what?" She taunted from her position twenty feet away from Jackson.
Jackson's eyes narrowed. Lisa's hair was mussed up, and she was flushed from running. He watched her chest rise and fall with each heavy breath she took, remembered that vibrant moment when he had been pressed up against that very chest. He found that he was striding quickly towards Lisa. She simply stood there and watched him. Jackson broke into a run, and still she stood there. Soon the five-odd feet left separating them were crossed, and Jackson stood inches away from Lisa.
Blue eyes met green, and in the yellowish glow from the streetlamp, Lisa could've sworn Jackson was another person. He was maybe the brooding lover, she wondered. Maybe he was desperate, and in another world, another time, he would pull Lisa to him, and he would kiss her, and he would… But that wasn't Jackson. That would be someone else, some alter personality.
In this time, and this world, Jackson stared at Lisa and did nothing. He couldn't bring himself to touch her, though he wanted to. In that moment, Lisa was Untouchable. Ethereal, she stared back at Jackson, and because he had no idea what she was thinking about, he felt angry and surprised that she wasn't acting afraid of him. Jackson forgot that he wasn't allowed to touch her and he grabbed her shoulders and shook her, bringing her back to earth.
She slapped him.
Lisa Reisart pulled herself to her full height of five-foot-seven and tried to ignore the six-foot-two figure of Jackson Rippner looming over her. "What do you want," she asked quietly.
Jackson stared down at Lisa's calm face. He admired her courage, and at the same time, it irked him. Revenge would be so much easier if she wasn't beautiful, he found himself thinking, and cursed aloud. When had he ever cared about beauty? Come to think of it, when had he ever cared about anything? Lisa stared up at him and Jackson wished she would look away. He had the odd sense that she could see right through him, and that no matter how he tried, she would always see that part of him, and he would never be able to change it. Jackson stuttered in front of what he felt were all-knowing eyes.
He soundlessly grabbed Lisa's wrist and pulled her after him. Walking to where he had dropped his notebook on the ground, he bent and picked it up, and flipped open, searching for a page. Finally he found it, and pressed the book into Lisa's hand.
Lisa's eyes widened. There was an excellent picture drawn in the book, completely in pencil, of Lisa's face. Or at least half of it. The other half seemed to be a shadow, and then, as if two faces were faded and melded together, was Jackson's face. Lisa couldn't tell if the shadowed half of the picture belonged to half of Jackson's face or half of her own. It was as if the two people were one.
Stunned, Lisa stared up at him. "Did you… Did you draw that?" Jackson nodded. "That is an incredible picture…" Jackson was studying her face now, and she knew he wanted her to speak her interpretation of it, but she couldn't find words. "I—I'm not—we're not one, like you drew us…"
Something flickered in Jackson's eyes, and they went from warm to cool. "I want you to come with me," he ordered her, like a father lecturing a child. Lisa, of course, disbelievingly shook her head.
"Are you kidding me? You can't just make me do whatever you want, Jack. I would've thought you'd know that by now…" She went oddly breathless.
"I want you to come with me," he said huskily. "You know I never lie. I want you to come with me."
"No," she whispered, and she sounded shocked. "Why…? You tried to kill me, you're a murderer, you're—you're--" Lisa took a deep breath. "Give me one reason why I should."
"Why aren't you running away?" he asked, and felt his entire being shaking with yearning to pull Lisa close to him, but tried to ignore it.
"I don't know…" she said, and stepped a little away from him.
Damn, Jackson thought, and felt his desire to just touch her grow stronger. Why the hell did she have to back away, right when he needed her close to him? But that was ridiculous. Jackson Rippner didn't need anyone, and he never had.
He angrily pulled Lisa to his chest and held her there, vowing to never let go. She struggled against him, reminding him of the significance of the scar on her chest, and he expected her to grow stiff in his arms, and inwardly prayed that she wouldn't. He didn't know that Lisa was just about to bring her knee right up into his groin. He just pulled her tighter and buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of Lisa, of the grass stuck in clumps to her feet. Lisa hadn't expected this uniquely comforting show of affection, and she stopped her movement.
Jackson sighed as he felt Lisa lean into him, and desire and longing bubbled in his chest. He wanted this feeling. He wanted this simple hug, this simple comfort that he had been denied his entire life. And he wanted Lisa Reisart. Deeply and intensely. Jackson ran his cheek down hers, and before he realized it, his lips had found hers.
At first, the kiss was soft and gentle. And then Jackson realized Lisa's fingers had snaked up and twined in his hair, and he let his hunger and lust take over. He was drinking from her, and she from him. The other world Lisa had been imagining combined with this one, and Jackson was the brooding lover, and Lisa the rebellious romantic, who loves and longs and wants for this incredible feeling, but still tries to rebel against it and push it away.
