Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 33
"Congratulations." The slight, panting rasp in his voice reminded her of other times long gone. "Come on, Leese, you know you want to."
Her vision blurred. It was only when she saw the first small drops of water scatter on his cheek that she realized she was crying. The rasp had brought her back. "I will never be like you, Jackson." She tossed the knife aside with a hiss.
"Good news," he sighed. "Now can we -"
A fist to the temple knocked him out cold and he went limp beneath her. Lisa rolled off him and curled up on her side, head buried in her hands. It's not over, get up. Get out. Why? What for? She was drowning, drowning, drowning.
She could not for the life of her understand why – it didn't make a difference, after all - but something deep within her resented her fate, her destiny to lie still next to the man who had once again ruined her, wrecked her, until he would awake. Lisa struggled to her feet, dragging herself towards the exit. A moan stopped her in her tracks and hesitantly, she turned around to watch Jackson come back to his senses. Time to go, he was already trying to sit up.
"For fuck's sake, Leese, wait. You -"
Lisa stiffly hurried out the room, but something … someone blocked her.
"Well, well, well." Laritt reached out and grabbed her by the shirt. Shocked, but not senseless, Lisa managed to kick him in the groin, his agonized grunt music to her ears. Only for a second, though, because in the next, she was hunching over from the brutal punch to the stomach she had received as retribution. "Bitch!"
Jackson was on his feet and Lisa couldn't help but be amazed at him. Ruffled? Yes. Bleeding? Yes. Cocky? Confident? Yes on both accounts. "What exactly do you think you're doing here?"
"Just checking in … and with good reason, I gather. Time's up, Rippner."
"Says who?"
"Me. Oh yeah … me and my business associate who's right outside, just aching to come in and see the look on your faces."
"Nothing you do can surprise me, Laritt."
"Care to bet?" He bowed, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Tadaaa!"
Lisa stiffened as she recognized the familiar figure casually stepping into the light.
It was Cherry.
"Now how about that, Rippner?" Laritt snickered, perverted joy oozing from his words like rancid oil. "Surprised?"
"You're right, I do love a good twist," Jackson laughed. He laughed! "There's just one thing … once again, you only come in second place."
Cherry raised her gun and squeezed the trigger.
BANG.
Everything around her froze into a bright painting that Lisa viewed idly with a wondering gaze. The force of the bullet had spun him around and Laritt hung mid-air, grotesquely reminiscent of Munch's "The Scream". He was all wide eyes and mouth, arms up as if to beg for mercy. A ragged hole in his shirt exposed the shredded flesh and bones of where he had been hit. Speckles of red dotted the picture, many of them floating right in front of Cherry who was closest. Kind of stupid to wear a white top to a killing. She'll never get the blood out. The other woman was poised in a wide stance, pointing the gun with outstretched arms, both hands on the weapon. She looked focused, yet fierce, a filmmaker's dream of embodied feminism, but this was no movie. It was real.
(It's real.) This is real.
Laritt slumped down with a heavy thud.
MOVE!
The instant Lisa heard the safety on the gun, she charged forward, pushing Cherry aside as hard as she could. In three quick steps she had darted out the door and slammed it shut behind her, ignoring the curse that accompanied her exit. Trembling fingers found the key in the pocket of her pants. She managed to turn it once, yelping in fear as a body crashed against the solid metal from the other side. The key fell down and she whipped around, sprinting to the elevator before she realized she didn't remember the right code. Fire exit to the left! It's open! Hurling herself at it, Lisa pretty much dove through the double-doors, racing down the steps a second later. Her feet pitter-pattered against the cold stone in dizzying speed, barely holding on. The last landing finally broke her rhythm and instinctively, Lisa turned the impending tumble into a jump, gasping at the strain her weight and speed put on her ankles. The wall broke her frantic stumble, cueing a dance of bright, colorful lights behind her eyelids. Staggering backwards from the impact Lisa hit the railing, knees bucking, then giving way.
The echo of double-doors barreling open shook her, briefly dispersing the billows of red fog that had clouded her mind. Every greedy gulp of air she took scorched like liquid fire from her throat all the way to her lungs and Lisa was trembling with exhaustion. Fighting and fleeing had given her a purpose, but now that traitor of a body turned against her, limbs heavy and tired. Rapid footsteps heralded her pursuer's fast approach. Come on, get going! Lisa hauled herself up and continued into the garage, taking cover behind a car on the far end near the ramp to the lower level. She berated herself bitterly for not retrieving her knife when she had had the chance, because she would not be able to run much longer. And where to run? Could she even get out of the building without the proper ID?
"There's nowhere left to go!" Jackson was furious, no doubt about it. "I'm holding a 10mm Auto Glock 20 and I am fully prepared to shoot if you insist on -"
He was interrupted by a low, pressing murmur. Cherry. Unreasonably as she knew it was, Lisa had still held on to a small glimmer of hope that Jackson's associate might stay out of this. Alas, no such luck.
Voice more even, but nevertheless clearly struggling with barely suppressed anger, Jackson continued. "Let's clarify then. I am fully prepared to shoot at you if you insist on leaving me no other choice. I promise I'm not going to kill you, but this stops now."
Yeah, you just keep on talking. Lisa didn't answer, almost choking from the effort to breathe without sound. The strained crawl down the ramp was all but hindered by muscles that threatened to cramp any minute now. Her mind was flooded with the desire to lie down, to simply await whatever was coming her way, conscious thought becoming more difficult by the second. Only her instincts urged her on.
"Lisa! Come on out, Lisa, you'll be fine!"
No, Cherry, I won't. Not now, not ever. Already, the words they kept calling out to her were muffled and Lisa ignored their meaning, focusing on how far away they seemed instead. Crouching down behind a red SUV, she scanned her surroundings for the fastest way to the exit. There was no exit. With tired, shaky hands, half angry and half resigned, she wiped at the hot tears on her cheeks, the lump in her throat bobbing up and down as she swallowed. This was the end, Jackson would win.
"Lisa." Cherry's voice yanked her out of her daze and Lisa snapped upright, reeling from the rush. "Easy there, girl, it's just me." A mama duck talking to her baby.
Lisa frowned, ankles throbbing as she shifted her weight. "Step back."
"You won't give in without a fight and I respect that." Cherry raised her fists. "So if you like, we can do this. Just remember, I'm not the one who's tired, okay?"
Stumped at the words themselves as much as at the soft, sympathetic manner in which they had been spoken, Lisa stammered, "You … you just s-shot a guy."
"Not the most exhausting job under the sun, honey." Cherry's arms came down slowly. "And he deserved it. Listen, why don't we -"
"What the hell is this?!" Apparently, Jackson could materialize out of nowhere.
Lisa flinched and whirled around. Who knew a broken heart could still skip a beat?
Cherry intervened. "We were just talking."
"Oh my, so sorry to interrupt that cozy girlish quality time then, but something tells me we need to take care of a corpse." Underneath that icy façade, he was seething. Lisa found it increasingly difficult to separate the past from the present as Jackson invaded her space, nearly sizzling with malice.
Lisa raised her chin. "Don't you dare touch me, Jackson!"
"What are you going to do about it?"
Her fist shot out, but Jackson caught it easily. He ruthlessly dug into her skin, teeth clenched in simmering anger. "Okay, you had your moment, you got your little revenge. It's not my fault you couldn't bring yourself to do it. But now I want you to suck it up and get the hell over it."
"Oh, get over it? Why didn't you say so before? Get over it! That all, Jack?" Lisa ripped herself free, ignoring his attempt to speak. "My father is dead, Jay is dead, Cynthia is dead. You killed them!" Her voice was shrill and loud. "But now it's been … uh … about an hour since I've heard. You're right, that is kind of long. Sorry for inconveniencing you!" Lisa shoved him away, screaming. "GET AWAY FROM ME!"
Jackson grabbed her by the head in a move so familiar that it brought another pyramid of memories crumbling down around her. A hair's breadth before his forehead connected with hers, something flashed in his eyes and he pulled back with a curse. Instead of the searing pain Lisa had expected, she felt Jackson's fingers clamp around her wrists as he yanked her arms behind her back, his body forcing her against the car. They stood chest to chest; her desperate efforts to struggle free were rendered futile by his weight pushing her further into the cold metal. Loathe to look at him, Lisa twisted her face away and bit down hard on her lip to stop it from quivering. A few seconds passed, all quiet except for the sound of Jackson's labored breath that warmed her cheek. When he loosened his grip on her arms and Lisa dared to twitch, Jackson crashed into her again, the message clear: don't move. Not that she could, anyway. She was helpless as his hands entangled themselves in her hair, turning her head until she was forced to meet his gaze. With his lips pressed together and his nostrils slightly flared, Jackson studied her closely, obviously in search of a particular answer. How was she supposed to answer if she didn't even know the question? Either way, it didn't matter anymore. Lisa returned his probing stare with a wordless reply of her own. I believed you. I hate myself for it and I hate you for making me feel this way. You betrayed me.
Jackson's eyes narrowed and then widened. Letting her go, he stepped back quickly, almost as if he had been burnt. "Hell, Leese," he sighed, "did you not listen to me while you were scrambling away down here?"
"I was busy."
The atmosphere shifted. Oh, there was ire, alright, and impatience, indignation, irritated incredulity … in short, the whole Jackson Rippner spectrum. But what else?
"So you didn't hear what I said about your father and precious Cynthia and Jay?"
"No - and I don't want to, either." Lisa shuddered. "Keep your reasons to yourself. I hope you gag on them."
"Oh, I'm not going to apologize, but I sure as hell expect you to."
"Are you actually insane, Jackson? You must be! I can't possibly think of -"
He cut her short. "Had any cocktails lately? Because I know a great recipe. Take some vodka, a sedative and mix it with a smidge of poison, so the pictures you take look genuine. Inject antidote. Sound like a fun night?" Jackson started to walk away. "Draw your own conclusions. You know where to find me."
White noise.
From far away, Lisa faintly registered that Cherry supported her with an arm around the shoulder and she leaned into her, grateful for the contact with another human being. Thoroughly conflicted, she watched Jackson disappear into the stairwell. He had protected her family. It was as if a veil had been lifted and for the first time, Lisa could see clearly, could see the encounter with Laritt in a different light. In his strange way, Jackson had actually tried to protect her, as well.
"Why … why didn't he tell me? When I … why didn't he … I don't understand."
Cherry chortled and squeezed her briefly. "I'm pretty sure he tried."
Thwudd.
Cherry fell and confused, Lisa bent down to her.
Thwudd.
Pain.
Darkness.
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Author's note: So here it is, Jackson hasn't killed them after all. Sorry for leaving you with yet another cliffhanger and this time, y'all are gonna hate me, because I'm leaving the country for two weeks. See you soon!