Lisa jerked awake as thunder rumbled through the hotel room. She opened her eyes, blearily seeing faint strains of light coming through the window. She blinked a few times, clearing the sleep from her eyes, and saw through the open drapes that the early morning was a dark grey-blue, filled with heavy rain-laden clouds and faint flashes of lightning. The heat that had brewed the fight between her and Jackson last night had also produced a menacing storm, which was slowly approaching.

Moaning tiredly, she laid her head back down on the pillow and started to pull the blanket back over her shoulders. She stopped when she felt the slight tug of resistance. Looking down, she saw that her fingers were interlaced with Jackson's, who was -- thankfully -- still asleep. Lisa froze. Did she grab his hand in the middle of the night? Last thing she remembered was-

Heat flooded her face. She had been crying pathetically into Jackson's shirt last night, after their blowout. As if that weren't embarrassing enough, she had a feeling that she fell asleep in his arms. She looked at his relaxed features, concentrating her attention on his slightly parted lips and the stray hairs that hung over his eyes. At least he had the decency to put her to bed, instead of waking her up and letting her know that she had fallen asleep against him. Further inspection of their sleeping arrangement mortified Lisa even further.

She had one leg wrapped over his hip, pulling their lower bodies closer than they naturally should have been.

There was no way she was going to get out of this, while saving face, without Divine Intervention from God Himself.

As if God wanted to make that point absolutely clear, she could feel Jackson beginning to wake. She closed her eyes and relaxed her body as quickly as she could, doing her best to appear as if she were still sleeping. She heard Jackson take a slow, deep breath, and knew that he was opening his eyes, for the first time that morning, to the scene she had discovered first. Whatever past life's sins she was paying for, she hoped she had a hell of a good time committing them, because this would be a lot of torture for something petty.

-
-

Jackson surveyed the sight before him. Lisa ... poor, Lisa. The bruises on her neck had turned darker, looking worse than they did last night, as did the one on her wrist. He carefully unwrapped his fingers from hers, embarrassed that he had maintained the light grasp throughout the night. He reached out, pushing her hair gently away from her neck, and felt her flinch. He frowned, knowing he probably had grazed one of her bruises. He moved her auburn tresses, seeing the purple-blue marks extending around the slender column of her throat to the side of her neck. It would be hard, nearly impossible, to effectively hide her bruises and cuts under clothing in this heat. She would have to lay low for a while.

He let his arm fall back between their bodies, realizing there wasn't much space between the two of them. Looking down, he saw why. Lisa's impossibly long leg was draped over his hip, holding him close against her. Don't even think about it, God, don't think about- It was too late, he could already feel the arousal seeping into his blood stream, coursing through his body, pooling in the pit of his stomach and in his loins. Determined not to embarrass himself further by waking Lisa up with an insistent erection pressed against her, he gripped the back of her bare knee lightly. God, her legs were smooth ... where they weren't battered. He thought of the insane adrenaline rush he had last night, when he was on top of her, pushing her legs apart, his pants undone ... he thought of the arousal he had felt when he realized how it would be so easy for him to just fuck her right then and there, to finally release his aggression and violence through sex.

The guilt from the previous night mixed with new self-loathing as he realized how sick he was, for wanting to force her into submission, to take what he wanted and to leave her with whatever was left, so long as he got off. With intense determination, he gently lifted her knee, unwrapping her leg from his torso, and slid from the covers. He needed a cold shower, badly.

-
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Lisa waited until she heard the bathroom door close before letting out a shaky sigh. It had taken all of her self-control to keep herself from shaking when Jackson had touched her. She had jumped slightly when his hand was in her hair, exposing the skin of her neck. She thought he was going to dig his fingers into her flesh again, but he had simply inspected the marks he had left, before resting his arm between them again. Then, he found out. He found out she had her leg wrapped around him. She had wanted to die when she felt his hand on the back of her knee, confirmation of his knowledge of her embarrassing tendencies to wrap herself around whatever happened to be close while she slept. She had to dig deep inside of herself to find that extra ounce of courage to keep from screaming when his hand connected with her skin. But, to her surprise, instead of the fierce grip she had expected, pulling her body flush against his, so that he could finish what he had started the night before, there was ... nothing. Jackson simply lifted her leg gently, removing it from his hip, and slid out of bed to take a shower.

She shivered in the air conditioning and crawled out of bed to go to the unit at the window. She shut it off and slid the window pane to the side, letting in the muggy air, heavy with the scent of the impending downpour. Goosebumps erupted along her arms and legs, and she quickly reached for the zip-up hoodie laying across the chair next to the window. She slid it on, then leaned through the window, her elbows resting on the ledge as she surveyed the thunderheads rolling in.

She loved these type of mornings, the kinds she used to enjoy in the summertime as a kid in Texas. She would wake up at her grandmother's house, and instead of hearing Henrietta's humming while she made breakfast, and Duke's random comments on sales he found in the newspaper ads, she would hear the pattering of rain, the rumble of thunder, and the chirping of birds that dared to venture out into the storm. Henrietta and Duke would always sit out on the front porch watching the storms, and Lisa hoped to continue that tradition someday, when she had grandchildren of her own ... if Jackson didn't kill her first.

"If you were cold, you should've said something, I'd have turned off the air conditioning." Lisa jumped as Jackson exited the bathroom, dressed in a pair of loose-fitting faded denims, and nothing else. She averted her eyes and looked down at the hoodie.

"Sorry, I ... I didn't realize this was yours, I just pulled it on." She began to pull it from her shoulders, but he shook his head, his wet hair sticking to his forehead.

"Don't. If you're cold, keep it on." He moved next to her, his arm nearly brushing hers as he leaned through the window as well, his face scrunching lightly as he inhaled. "Looks like we're going to be hitting some rain during our driving. Smells like rain, too. Really ... earthy-smelling. Like hot, wet dirt." Lisa nodded as she breathed in the scent of the impending storm, which mixed with the aroma of a freshly-showered Jackson.

"I used to lay in bed in the mornings during the summer, when I would visit my grandma, in Texas ... just ... listening to the storms," she began, watching as a stray car passed along the main road. "For all the turbulence storms bring, they always seem to have a way of bringing a sense of peace afterwards."

Jackson turned his head to face her, and she could see pale freckles dotting his face and shoulders, near-ghosts on his skin. It made him seem incredibly human, almost boyish. "Which ... brings me to something I've been meaning to say ... what with storms and peace and all that ..." He opened his mouth again, then paused, as if he were struggling for words. He reached up and raked his hand through his damp hair, mussing the dark locks gently. "Last night, I-" Lisa sensed the apology he was getting ready to make.

"Jackson, you don't have to-"

"No, I do, Lisa!" he interrupted fiercely, cutting off her protests. He averted his eyes and licked his lips, searching for the correct way to phrase his next few sentences. "Last night, I wanted to scare you into behaving, and I took it farther than I intended. A lot farther. I just wanted you to think that I'd be able to do whatever it takes to get you to do what I need you to do, and the truth is, I'm not. I'm not able to." He looked back at her, his blue-grey eyes staring intently into hers. "There're some things that I can't ... that I won't do. Things that I refuse to do. And I came really fucking close to doing them."

"Yeah," Lisa affirmed sadly. "You did ... you came too close. You scared me to death."

Jackson lowered his gaze, opting instead to watch the fire ants, crawling along the outside wall. "I know. And I'm sorry, Leese. I don't think there's any way for me to apologize enough for what I did last night. I was so disgusted with myself, I- ..." He lifted his head, staring back out at the brewing clouds, which had suddenly turned darker. "After you got back in the car, and I stood up, and I- ... I looked down, and saw that my pants were undone, and I- ... God, Lisa, I wanted to puke." She watched as his eyes slowly made their way back to hers. "I'd never been so disgusted with myself in my entire life. And for whatever it's worth ... I'm sorry."

Lisa nodded, not sure if she should trust her voice to speak. "I understand," she murmured, wiping at her eyes as casually as she could, but knowing he would see it anyway. She wasn't ready to cry in front of him - again - just yet. "I'm sorry, too. For always making things difficult for you. You're trying to help me, for whatever reason, and I'm constantly throwing a wrench into things." She gave a meager laugh. "It seems like I'm good for something -- screwing up Jackson Rippner's plans, day in and day out." He smiled at that, a real smile.

"Like I said last night, though, Leese ... don't miss again. Because it sure as hell won't be me doing that to you, if it ever happens again. I swear. And you know how I am with my promises."

She nodded, watching as the first few drops of rain began to fall. "You keep them." The few drops became more numerous, until it was a steady pattering against the still-hot asphalt of the parking lot. "And for what it's worth, coming from me, I'm sorry I tried shooting you ... again."

Jackson gave a full laugh that time, his eyes crinkling lightly in the corners as his mouth parted in a wide grin. "Guess I should be thankful you missed."