Disclaimer: I don't own Red Eye. This is for my sanity.
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"You're serious," she breathed. He nodded, relaxing a little—which meant that he wasn't ready for her hand to strike him fully across the face, palm open. He reeled backward, then recovered and prepared to retaliate. She stopped him by stalking toward him, forcing him back. "You bastard! You—you—I can't believe this. I did nothing to you, nothing, and you waltz in and out of my life repeatedly to tell me that someone I care about is going to die, or that I will, or that you will, and you expect me to just go along with it?"
Lisa didn't halt her advance, and soon Jackson found himself back on the surf-washed area, a trickle of water rushing over the tops of his shoes. He stopped backing away and turned the tables, using his somewhat larger frame to bully her into retreating. "That's exactly what I expect, Leese," he growled. "I expect you to think about those very people and understand that this time, it's not me who will make the call whether they live or die."
"Don't give me that," she shot back. "Jackson, you tried this with me before. In case you didn't notice at the funeral, I don't have much in the way of friends and family. Once they're gone, they're gone, and you won't have anything to threaten me with. I will not put the safety of my country below my own. Not anymore."
He barked a laugh, incredulous. "Are you a little soldier, now? You think your sacrifice of the few is going to be for the betterment of the many?" He sneered. "You're wrong, Leese. No one will know, no one will care. Your remaining loved ones will die one at a time, probably in different and ordinary ways, and no one will know. And this time, I will die with you, and I'm not ready to do that just yet."
"Your problems are not my problems." Lisa crossed her arms again, glaring. "I'm not going to help you kill someone."
"If you don't, you'll be risking more than you think," he replied. "Keefe will still die, too." He thrust his fingers into his hair, expelling a heavy breath. "Listen," he went on in a suddenly more reasonable tone, "Will you at least listen to the rest?"
She raised a brow, settling all her weight on one hip. "I'm all ears."
Jackson scowled. "Stop the childish act and pay attention." He visibly reined in his temper, then spoke. "The problem that you don't understand is that there is a group we in the business like to call the 'cleanup crew'. Can you guess what they do, Leese?"
"Windows?" She asked sarcastically.
"No," he grated, annoyed, "They are a team of fucking hit men, Leese, very well-trained and well-equipped hit men. They clean up the messes left behind by failed jobs." He paused to let that sink in. "And the job, my job, the one you fucked up for me, is the one they are coming to clean up."
Lisa wanted to retort, to say something about how he'd shattered her life and not the other way around, but she found herself unable to speak. Her mouth had gone dry at the idea of her entire family being stalked by a dozen Jacksons. Jacksons with better aim, if what he'd told her was true.
As he always did, he read her thoughts. "Not just your family. They'll be going after them first, of course, then your friends—remember your buddy Cynthia was in on the job, too—and then they'll go after Keefe, his wife, his kids. That part will be high-profile, probably, but the rest of us?" He gave a short, humorless laugh. "I don't even exist. No one will even be able to identify me. I don't have the protection of my company anymore, and that means you don't, either."
There it was again, that flicker of fear. Lisa shut her mouth and waited. Three years had gone by so quietly, free of retribution or any disturbance in her life. At first, Jackson's claim of protection had seemed laughable, but the fear, the real worry in his eyes made her pause. Had the peace since that awful day been aided by someone who watched over her?
Despite the heat of the day, Lisa shivered. "Why now?" She asked, voice flat, tone even. "I met you so long ago. Why is this happening now?"
He sent her a pitying look. "I already told you. It wouldn't have been an issue except that the law is about to find out way too much about my organization. This might not have happened if the job had been carried out properly." He shrugged. "Maybe it would, I don't know, but if it had, I wouldn't be on the outside like this."
"You're lost, aren't you?" She marveled at the thought. "You really don't know where to go now, do you?" Lisa couldn't stop the bemused smile from widening her lips. "I can't believe it."
Jackson lost his fight with his temper. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Leese." He stalked up to her, stiff-legged, jaw clenched. His hand snaked out and caught her chin, fingers cruelly digging into her skin, making her cry out in pain. He drew her face to his, hissing, "Maybe it was a mistake to call you. I should have let them kill you without the warning."
"Hey, what's going on there?"
As one, Jackson and Lisa started, then turned to look in the direction of the voice. A uniformed policeman stood on the stairs, eyeing them warily with his hand lightly resting on his sidearm. Jackson's grip loosened, and Lisa took the chance to pull back. He risked a warning look to her.
Lisa shot him a disgusted glare. Keeping her eyes on him, she called back, "Nothing, Officer." She rubbed her jaw where Jackson's fingers had caught her. "We're just having a disagreement. It's fine."
The policeman seemed uncertain. "Are you sure, Miss?"
Are you sure you're fine? Her father's favorite question echoed in her mind; Lisa had to push down the sudden grief that roiled within her. "Really, I'm fine." Was she actually sending him away? Did she really want to be left alone with the chaotic Jackson? Was she missing her last chance to possibly put him behind bars, to be rid of him forever? Lisa could practically feel his tension from where she stood; perhaps he was wondering the same things.
"Well," the officer said, hesitating.
"We were about to go anyway, weren't we, Jack?" She sent him a look that read, don't argue, then somehow managed a breezy smile. "It's fine, officer, but thank you for your concern."
He looked from Jackson to Lisa and then back again. Lisa felt like her face would freeze into her fake expression—Jackson wore a similar one—but then the policeman nodded and turned to go.
When he had disappeared from sight, they let out matching sighs of relief. "Lisa," said Jackson, very quietly, as if the patrolman could still hear them, "Have I ever told you that you should consider a career in management?"
"Don't push your luck," she warned. "I should have handed your ass over to him."
He grinned. "But you didn't."
No, she hadn't, and that disturbed her.
He saved her from having to reply by walking off with a smirk. "Why don't we go get something to eat? I'm starving. Up for lunch? Cuban?" He sighed. "It's been a while since I was in Miami. I wonder if Mona's is still there…"
"Jackson—Jackson!" She hurried to catch up to him. "Wait, you just walk away like that? After telling me everyone is going to die?"
They had reached the wall by then; Jackson turned on the third step to look down at her. He was half-silhouetted against the bright sun and the rustling leaves of the lone tree. Lisa had to shade her eyes against the light.
He chuckled softly. "Everyone is going to die, Leese," he murmured, "It's just a matter of how and when we do." His hand stretched out for the third time that day, offering help once more. Three strikes and you're out, it seemed to say to her.
Or was it third time's the charm?
Lisa took it, and hoped for the latter.
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AN: Hey, y'all—many, many thanks for the great reviews! Some of these are the best reviews I've ever received. I love it when you tell me about details you noticed, since I put them in there because they bring me joy. :) I have the next chapter mostly done, but it needs a good ending, so I'll have that up in the next couple days. Ciao!
