Oh, oops. I deleted the chapter. I'm sorry. Here it is again!

Harpie: Ah ha, but I have now overcome my fear of sporks, and laugh at them instead. I laugh in the face of your sporks!

And to everyone else – I apologise for the shortness etc. of this chapter. Excuse: I just started a new school, and it's been pretty hectic. Anyways.

Everything happened very fast.

Lisa barely had time to register the masked figure stood in the doorway before she felt something barrel into her side and was knocked back several steps before her head hit the floor.

She heard some quite little sounds and watched in fascination as a fruit bowl on the kitchen island that she now seemed to be behind shattered.

Then she realised that someone was shooting at her, that whatever had knocked her over was still lying on top of her, and that she couldn't breathe because of it.

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Jackson swore under his breath. This was not good. This was definitely not good.

He rolled off Lisa, then looked around at the kitchen for a few seconds before turning his attention back to her. She was still lying on the floor, so he grabbed one of her arms and hauled her into a sitting position, wincing slightly as he did so.

He then sneaked a look over the island, ducking down quickly as a bullet narrowly missed his head.

Lisa was staring at him.

"Who..." she began, but he cut in.

"They're wearing a mask. You see, Lis', you see what happens when you mess with my organization?"

"Your organization? Why are they..."

He cut her off again by placing a hand roughly over her mouth, then moving it away again quickly before she could take the chance to bite it.

"Questions later, Lisa", he hissed, before suddenly rearing back and headbutting her.

She fell unconscious immediately, even as Jackson cursed loudly at the intensified pain in his forehead where he had hit his bruise.

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Lisa awoke to a nasty, aching pain in her head, which got worse with every jolt...

Jolt from what?

She cracked open her eyes, and saw the back of another car, through a windscreen. She turned her head to the left, and her gaze rested on Jackson, who was clutching a steering wheel and glaring at the traffic jam in front of them. He looked better, with plasters on his now-clean face and forehead, and butterfly stitches on the cut underneath his eye. He was wearing a white shirt that she recognised as one of her father's, which he had undoubtedly left in the guest room the last time he had visited her.

Without diverting his eyes from the road, Jackson held out some water and aspirin for her, which she took appreciatively, although she didn't thank him.

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Jackson watched her from the corner of his eye as she took the aspirin and drank the water. She finished the water, screwed the cap back on, and put the empty bottle into the glove compartment.

There was a pause.

Jackson gave up on the stationary traffic, and turned the engine off.

Lisa took a breath, and began.

"Wha..."

"People from my company are trying to kill me... and you, too." Jackson interrupted, still staring straight ahead at the unmoving car in front. "I failed – the punishment for that is death."

Wow, I remembered that Americans drive on the left. Go me.

Now, go and review this, then read & review my other fics: Pain, Rain and Under The Rose. :). Now.