Deep, Dark Secrets

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

Chapter Five: Close-Quartered Circumstances

"Abby, I need you to tell me where you live," Jackson demanded once they were a little ways away from the prison that her father had just escaped. No one had dared follow them after Philippe was shot. No one had doubted that he would just as easily shoot her.

"Why?" Abby was confused. "Aren't I going to live with you?"

"Yes, but don't you have clothes and other belongings that you want to grab?"

How can you be so calm and collected? You just murdered a man in cold blood!

"True," she sighed, trying to mask her scattered thoughts.

"Good." Her father beamed at her. "Now, how do I get there?"

Abby numbly mumbled the directions to the Carter's house. She could see the slightest hint of a sly, yet extremely triumphant smile emerging upon his face. It unnerved her, and she was already shaken by Philippe's murder.

Something just doesn't feel right. Why is daddy so happy? He's going to be on the run for Philippe's murder and I'm going to be stuck running with him. We're both fugitives because of what he's done. Yet, he's beyond calm.

The gates at the end of the drive were wide open. Abby sank deeper into her seat as Jackson steered the car up the windy path to the house. Before the car had reached a stop, the front door flung open and a red haired figure streaked out.

"Philippe! Philippe!" Lisa Carter screamed as she rushed to greet the car.

Jackson slammed on the brakes and turned off the engine. Abby saw his right hand reach for the stolen gun that had ended her step-father's life. Her mother was dashing towards Jackson's door.

What is he going to do? Is he going to kill her too? She'll be heartbroken as it is once she hears about Philippe. Even though I hated him, he really loved her and she returned his feelings.

Lisa wretched open the driver's side door just as Jackson coolly cocked the loaded gun at her head. Abby froze, wondering what he was about to do.

"Hello Leese," he smirked and Lisa stopped cold. Her expressive green eyes were wide in fright. She was afraid of Jackson.

Why?

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No, no, this can't be happening! Not now, not here! He can't be alive—he died! Philippe told me he died!

"Jackson…" she breathed quietly, speaking his name for the first time in nearly fifteen years. For fifteen years she had been safe from his wrath. She had known that he escaped—the news was broadcasting his description and stating that he was armed and dangerous. He had supposedly escaped from a maximum security prison for the criminally insane and killed a man in the process.

Now he was here, sitting in front of her, in Philippe's car. History was repeating itself. He had come back for her. He must have done something to Philippe. He would never again hand his car over to HIM.

"Miss me sweetheart?" Jackson asked sweetly, carefully alighting from the car. Lisa backed up accordingly. "I know I missed you. It's been fifteen long, lonely years without you. Did you have trouble sleeping without me there to protect you?"

"You're dead!"

"No, I'm very much alive. It's your precious Philippe who's dead."

No, no, no! He's lying! He couldn't have killed him! Philippe was with Abby—it was her daddy-daughter bonding day…oh no…

"Abby! Where is she? What did you do with her?"

"Relax, Leese. She's just sitting in the car," he soothed, gently snatching her wrists in one hand.

"NO! NO!"

"Don't fight me, Lisa. I will shoot you if I have to. I shot Philippe. I killed him."

The smug look upon his face told her that he was not lying. He was telling her the truth. Jackson was gloating about killing the only man that she had ever loved. Abby's father…no, Jackson was Abby's father. Abby had been bonding with Jackson!

Oh, Philippe, how could you? How could you allow them to meet? Did you warn her what he was capable of? Why did you tell me he was dead? Why, Philippe? Why?

"Please, don't hurt her," she begged. Her life was over anyways. Without Philippe, she had no one. Abby was estranged from her. The least she could do was allow her daughter a chance at life. Jackson would never allow her to live anyways, but he might spare their daughter.

"Why would I hurt my own daughter? She sprung me from the prison that your husband placed me in. She trusts me. All I want is for us to be a family again."

The devil speaks with a forked tongue, Jackson. You're the devil in human form—my own personal demon.

"You liar! What lies did you tell her?" she demanded angrily.

"Stop screeching!" snarled Jackson as he transferred his hold on her to her slender throat. Memories bubbled up and threatened to overcome her better senses.

I have to keep fighting! He can't be allowed to win!

Lisa gagged and struggled with the lean ex-manager. His fury gave him strength despite his fifteen years of captivity. He still overpowered her.

"Dad, no! Stop!" She could dimly hear Abby begging.

The pressure was relieved at the same time she heard a sound smack of skin against skin. As her vision cleared, she could make out Abby's form on the ground, with her cheek turning bright red and her jeans ripped from her fall.

God, Jackson, what have you done? She's your daughter! How could you hurt her?

"Abby!" she called hoarsely, but Jackson locked his arm around her throat to cut off her words.

He's going to kill me now, right here, in my own driveway in front of my daughter. Poor Abby who never understood—never knew. I should have told her about him…she needed to be warned of the danger.

It's too late now…

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Lisa, Lisa, Lisa—did you think that you had finally won? Did you somehow believe that I was gone from your life? I'll never be gone. Even when you are drawing the last precious breath, you will never be free. I will haunt you even in death. You're mine forever more…

"Abby, go inside the house," he ordered harshly, glaring at his spineless daughter.

She was still lying sprawled across the gravel from when he had backhanded her. The little traitor had turned on him and tried to free her mother. He had taught her a lesson and sent her spinning to the ground. Her cheek was bright red, her jeans torn and bloodstained, and Abby was dazed.

"Did you not hear me? I said to get inside the fucking house!"

Ice cold eyes blazed into her pitiful form as she slowly and painful jerked herself off the ground. The hurt look on her face did not faze him—Lisa had shot him the look dozens of times. It had never helped her. He did not care what everyone else thought or wanted. All he cared about was himself.

"Daddy," his daughter was whispering.

"Get inside the house right now, Abby. Don't disobey me."

She scrambled up the steps and entered the house. Jackson smiled down at Lisa. "And you thought I'd be a terrible father," he sneered. "She loves me and respects more than she does you. See how little she cares for you?"

Lisa's response was gagging sounds, but he didn't appear to notice. He was lost in the midst of his own insanity.

"Not that she has much longer to worry about you. I'm finally going to finish what I started Lisa. I never break my promises…" His full lips trailed from near her ear to down the side of her throat.

She trembled beneath his touch, which thrilled him. He had been longing to touch his Lisa once more: to torment her, to scare her, to fuck her. She was his.

You'll never leave me again.

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Desperation had begun to set in.

I have to stop him. There's something terribly wrong with my dad.

Abby watched helpless as her furious father dragged her mother into Philippe's house. Sure, they had argued often and it was clear that Lisa resented her, but it still pained her some to see her mother hurt. Especially by her father. They must have loved each other at some point, right?

"Abby, go fetch me a knife," Jackson was calling.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

His frozen blue orbs sent a chill down her spine. She did not want to participate in another murder or witness it, but she was afraid of him. He had snapped somehow and now she feared for her own life.

Can I stand there and watch him kill her? Isn't that what I always wanted?

There was no doubt in her mind that he intended to kill Lisa. The past had somehow torn them apart and destroyed any feelings that her parents had once shared.

What happened to them?

She slipped out two knives and carefully hid one in her sleeve. Just in case…

"Good girl," he praised her with a smile. "Unlike your mother." Jackson was glaring at the gasping red head.

"You're no saint either," Lisa wheezed.

"Would you care to repeat that, sweetheart?" He was now waving the blade in front of her mother's face.

"Dad, what are you doing? What did she ever do to you? Didn't you ever love her?" Abby blurted out.

"I did love her—until she betrayed me! Now she still has to pay!"

Blood trickled down the shinning blade as Jackson forced it against Lisa's throat. Her mother was whimpering.

Daddy, what's wrong? What happened to you?

"Haven't I paid enough, Jack? Wasn't raping me enough?" She heard her mother cry softly.

"Bad girls are punished, Leese, and you know that. You had misbehaved."

Raped? He raped her? How could he? I thought he loved her!

"You're a despicable bastard," Lisa snarled. "I tried to get away from you and your obsession, but you couldn't let me go. You just wanted your revenge!"

"Seventeen years, Leese," he reminded her. "Seventeen years ago you fucked up my life and my career. Your payment is long overdue."

What kind of monster is he? Seventeen years of hatred? A revenge plot?

"Good-bye, sweetheart," he said joyfully, his lips caressing her mother's neck as he dragged the knife across the delicate flesh softly, a thin red line appearing behind it.

"NO! Dad!" Abby cried out, pressing the knife she carried into his back. "You can't!"

Jackson Rippner paused and then spun around. His eyes narrowed and he advanced on her shrinking form. Lisa lay crumpled on the floor, weak from her fear and blood loss. Abby had stopped him from slitting her throat, but a sizable wound still remained.

"What?" growled her father. "Do you want to die first?"

Philippe was right—he is dangerous. He's a killer. He was never going to keep me with him. He never loved me. He was using me all along. How could I have been so blind?

"No, please, no…"

"Speak up!"

"I can't let you kill anyone else, daddy."

"You don't care about them. All they do is cause trouble for you. Trust me—you're better off without them," he was smooth-talking her again, luring her back into his trap.

"I don't believe you."

A harsh laugh erupted from her father, who turned his head to Lisa. "Well, it looks like she finally figured it out." He clapped soundly now as he smirked at her. "And she took only a little bit longer than you."

"Go screw yourself, Jackson," her mother responded nastily, a scowl masking her pretty features.

He bent down and grasped Lisa's chin. "You know I'd much rather do you."

Lisa made a disgusted sound and Jackson shoved her to the ground. She tried to lash out at him, but he was straddling her hips and holding her to the floor.

"No! No! No!" Lisa was screaming in fear. "Never again!"

He's going to rape her again, isn't he? Is that why she is so afraid of him? Because he hurt her once?

"There's no one to save you now," he sneered. "Your precious savior is dead. He couldn't even save himself."

This can't be happening…

Abby watched in disbelief and horror as her father ran a hand down her mother's trembling thigh, stroking the skin. Lisa seemed defeated and broken. Neither of them appeared to notice that she was quietly observing them.

This is how I was born wasn't it? He did this to her and I'm the result. He's not the kind of man who deserves to be a father. He never cared. Only Philippe truly did and now he's dead. Oh, what have I done?

Jackson was ripping open Lisa's blouse now and drawing the knife across the scars that it concealed. He was smiling.

He did that, didn't he? He left those marks.

"JACK, NO!"

"Yes, Lisa, yes. You'll enjoy it too."

"You monster!" Abby yelled, jumping on the back of her father and knocking him to the ground. She had forgotten about the knife that her hand had subconsciously tightened around until she saw the crimson streaking through his gray shirt. Blue eyes were wide in shock as he stared at her.

She ripped her hand away from the hilt as if it had singed her skin. She had struck him in the heart.

"Just like me," he whispered with a smirk. "You're just like me."

"Daddy, I'm sorry, will you forgive me?" Abby asked in a little girl voice, suddenly worried. I didn't mean to stab you. "Daddy?"

It was too late. Jackson Rippner was gone. Seventeen years of madness ended with one unsuspecting blow. One mistake; one error in the calculation.

Abby Rippner had killed her father.

Author's Notes:

Okay, there's only the epilogue left now. Almost done!