Author's note: I love you all for all the encouragement and engagement. I appreciate it a lot. You are worried about what Jackson might do to Lisa, and if he will… or won't….

Well… you'll just have to bear with me for a couple of more chapters. / Nic.

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Chapter 4 Not Everything Is Black And White

Slowly, the light came back into Lisa's world.

She was lying on the side on the floor where she had fallen during the final seconds of the battle, her head pounded and she heard a static noise in her hears. Staring at the blurry sight of the dusty radiator an inch away from the tip of her nose, she wondered why she lay there. Suddenly everything came crashing down on her. Her hand flew up to her aching throat, and the involuntary deep intake of air felt like razor blades. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she coughed and tried to breathe through her damaged windpipe and a mouth dry like sand.

I'm alive, I'm alive! He didn't…

His black polished shoes came into her vision first. Squinting, she followed a black suit up to meet his face. He stood, passive, seemingly indifferent, looking down at her as she scrambled her limbs together and tried to get up. As her wobbly legs failed her, she staggered, but before she fell back to the floor, a firm hand gripped her upper arm and rather harshly pulled her up.

"You OK?"

She stared at him, incredulous, swaying back and forth, "What?"

He nodded at the chair, and Lisa stumbled there, sinking down onto the soft cushions. Jackson strode closer, his moves casual and still he looked like he could, and would, lash out at her any moment. Lisa sat warily, watching him approach. You choked me! You almost killed me! Why? She was hurt, it wasn't logical, and it wasn't right, but she felt betrayed. Even her irrational pieces of thoughts seemed to worsen the intense headache, and her stomach revolted against the brutal treatment of her body.

"How long was I out?" she croaked, fighting back the nausea. I don't feel well.

He shook his head. "Not long, half a minute maybe."

She nodded and gripped for her aching throat, rasping, staring at a button on his suit. "Can I have some water?"

He regarded her for a moment. "Sure."

Jackson motioned for her to come along and she rose. Feeling dizzy for a moment, she steadied herself with a palm against the wall and flinched when she felt a hand on her elbow. "Come on, Leese, you'll live," he said, not entirely unfriendly, and not sounding as hostile any more as he had before.

She swallowed another painful razorblade and followed him, still in his hold, into the kitchen. He supervised her quietly as she with shaking hands took a glass out of a cupboard and filled it with water from the tap. Before she turned it off, she also splashed some on her face to try to soothe her burning cheeks and calm the frightening turmoil inside. She grimaced with pain as she swallowed two big gulps of water, then she leaned the glass against her forehead, cooling her skin. Suddenly she convulsed and leaned over, dry retching into the sink. Trembling, she wiped the sweat off her forehead, feeling miserable, all the time sensing his vibrating, almost palpable, presence next to her.

She didn't want him to see her like this.

She didn't want to cry.

Not again.

Ever.

Time to be strong.

Time to fight back.

"Why didn't you kill me?" she finally whispered, staring at the basin.

Jackson leaned against the cupboard next to her and crossed his arms over his chest. "Leese," he snickered. "You make it sound like you're challenging me to kill you. Don't do that, that's a mistake you can't afford at this moment in your life."

"I'm not," she answered quickly, leaving her place next to him, where his closeness almost burned holes in her skin, and went to sit on a stool. "I'm just trying to figure out what you're doing here, and how I can get out of this without being hurt."

Jackson surprised her by laughing. "Don't bother your pretty little head with that. You won't. That's the only thing you need to know."

"You're not being very smart, Jack," she sneered. "If I know you're going to kill me when I've called Keefe, then why would it motivate me to make the call at all? Huh?"

He gripped her by the collar of her blouse and pulled her closer until their noses were practically touching. "It would make your death so much more painless," he breathed into her face through clenched teeth.

Lisa pushed at him, trying to pry his fingers away from her. When she didn't succeed, she leaned her face even closer to his until his blue eyes were but a blur. "Forget it, Jack," she quipped.

Jackson snapped and pulled her up abruptly, shoving her upwards. The chair tilted over and Lisa's head slammed painfully into the wall behind her. Holding a tight grip around her chin, he sneered; "Don't play brave. You are not up to this, Leese; you don't have it in you, just make the fucking phone call now and get this over with."

"This is getting old," she gasped, and tried to twist her head out of his grip. Jackson only responded by smirking viciously and pushing her harder, squeezing her between his body and the wall. "Get OFF me," she yelled and shoved her knee up, connecting it with his crotch, hearing him moan out loud in pain.

NOW!

When his grip loosened, she didn't bother to dwell in her success. She jerked her head away and went for the lamp by the window next to her; its foot was made of solid oak, and as she slammed it into Jackson's head, he slumped against her. Releasing herself from his body and letting it sag to the floor, she was finally free.

Lisa threw herself at the door, ready to leave the apartment and get away, but as she looked at the slumped form of Jackson Rippner lying in an awkward position on the floor, bleeding profusely from somewhere on the head, she hesitated. A stab of fear hit her; what if he dies? She took one step closer to the door, her hand almost touching the knob. Get out!

He lay, unmoving; blood from his scalp was beginning to soak the carpet. Get OUT!

She turned the knob, and glanced back at him. Jesus Jackson!

Hesitantly, she tiptoed back, grabbing her phone on the way, and looked down at him. His eyes were closed, and his handsome face was for once not twisted in anger but looked peaceful and paler than she'd ever seen it before. Lisa pitied him. She couldn't understand his motives. How had he ended up in this position? And why do I care? Was it that she had liked him to begin with? That they had connected?

Whatever HER motives were, she just couldn't bare to leave him alone on her kitchen floor, bleeding and unconscious. She'd have to call an ambulance.

Lisa crouched next to him and touched his cheek hesitantly. He didn't move.

I liked you… Once.

His day old stubble rasped against her soft fingertips while her heart pounded in fright. What if he wakes up? Her fingers instinctively sought the pulse on the side of his throat where the bandage ended. It beat strong and regular. Good.

When his eyes suddenly opened, Lisa screamed and threw herself backwards. Landing on her butt, she dropped the phone in the fall.

Stupid. Stupidstupidstupid!

She tried to get a hold of the phone, but his hand struck out and tightened around her wrist painfully hard, pulling her towards him. She gripped his hand with her other hand and tried to ease the hold. "Jackson, please. It hurts."

He scrambled to his knees and yanked her until she was halfway up, squeezed between him and the wall. The blood had soaked a part of his hair, and a small trickle fell past his temple and onto his cheek. "Please?" he taunted. "Please? Are you begging me to… do what, Leese? Let you go? Stop hurting you? Leave you alone?"

"Bingo," she rasped with a dry throat. "Can I choose all of the above?" She yanked again, trying to free herself of his constant grip. "Come on, I came back to see if you were OK, I could've just left…"

"- me with a massive headache…"

"Mmmyes… But I didn't… give me some credit for that."

His grip loosened a little but he didn't let go, pressing his lips together, he then snorted. "I'll give you this; you're actually a lot more stupid than I thought."

Lisa's inner clenched with fear. Don't cry! He would never let her go. He hates me… he's only thinking of his job… and… and… what he'll do after I've made the call… But I won't.

He surprised her by almost smiling. "Call Keefe and we can discuss the terms of… my departure."

Lisa sighed erratically. "Don't do this Jackson. You're not this man. I know you're not."

She yelped when he yanked her closer, "You don't know shit, Lisa!"

"I know you like me."

He stared at her, then he laughed out loud. "It's true. I do like you. You've got more balls under that skirt than most men I've met. You've been fun. Won't change shit, though, I've gotta get this done."

He let go of her arms and touched his bleeding head. "You got a towel or something?"

Lisa sighed and grimaced as she looked at the blood. "Does your head hurt?"

His eyes darted to meet hers and she was once more taken aback by the blue intensity in them. "Like hell."

She took a fresh kitchen towel from the cupboard next to the stove and threw it at him, watching as he caught it in mid air and pressed it against the wound. "Want some aspirin? I think I got some in the bathroom." The bathroom was located at the other end of the hallway, and if she could only get away for a moment, she could get past her front door, open it and get away.

He would live.

She probably wouldn't if she didn't do something.

"Nice try, Leese. But I ain't letting you out of my sight." Damn!

"Just let me go, Jackson. You don't need me for this. Call him yourself. You know, he'll never agree to meet me without all his security people and he will probably not agree to meet with me at all right now, after what happened and my part in it."

"Mere speculations that you could do without. He will agree to meet with you to express his deep gratitude towards Miss Lisa Reisert for saving his family."

"And I won't participate in hurting any of them again! Leave them alone!"

Jackson inhaled and slowly let the air out between his teeth. "Can't do that, no matter how much I'd have wanted."

"Why?"

"I have people above me that need to get this done and over with, at any cost. If I don't complete my contract… then I'll end up at the bottom of the river; face and hands cut off. Just another body. Like I never existed. Happens every day. But not to me. It's not going to happen to me."

"The ones that wanted to send the big brash message?"

"Exactly."

Lisa cringed at the thought of someone killing Jackson and then mutilating him. "Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?" she sneered, needing to get rid of the feeling of wanting to help him out of the situation. "YOU chose your own occupation, not me. Face your own consequences. I'm not taking part of this to save your life."

"What about your own life?" he asked, almost seductively softly.

"Are you telling me that you'd let me live after the call?"

"That what it sounds like?"

"No."

Jackson suddenly kicked Lisa's legs out from underneath her, making her falling over completely on her back. He loomed on top of her, pinning her body to the floor with the weight of his own.

"Oww…" she moaned as the air left her lungs at the impact.

"What would make you do the phone call….?" His index finger traced her bruised throat downwards to the hollow between her collar bones. Don't. Don't touch me. The touch made her skin tingle, giving her goosebumps.

"Nothing," she gasped, glancing down at what she could see of his hand. "There isn't anyone you can threaten to kill that will change my mind. Having someone's life on my conscience just isn't worth it."

"Nothing… Really? That's interesting." His fingers plucked at the remaining buttons of her blouse. Lisa's heart rate picked up.

You wouldn't.