"How are you able to talk Jackson?" Lisa inquired suddenly, acutely aware of the bandage on his throat. Instead of answering, Jackson continued to fumble with the contents of whatever it was in his bag, before briefly checking his phone. The phone she had used at the airport was gone, replaced, she suspected, so that he could not be tracked.
"I'm leaving." Jackson barked, indicating no intention to answer. He turned to face both Lisa and John. Piercing Lisa with intense anger, he then shifted his eyes to John.
"You keep watch of her, you hear me John? Do not underestimate her. Any problems, you know what to do." Jackson ordered with apathy.
"Of course I will." John replied casually. Jackson stared at him for a moment, before turning back to Lisa, his eyes gripped hers with menace. Lisa stood suddenly, a stab of panic shooting down her spine.
"My father, Jack, what has happened to him? Where is he?!" She asked, voice breaking. She watched his jaw clench, sharpening his face to moody angles. He turned to John.
"Don't let her escape." He demanded, turning for the door with the sports bag over his shoulder. Lisa moved to follow him, she felt John move behind her, readily anticipating any difficulty.
"My father, Jack!" She cried, grabbing the black polo shirt in her fist, halting his steps. He turned then, snarling at her, his hair whipped across his eyes, he grabbed at her hand, twisting it off his shoulder. John began pulling at her arms.
"What have you done, Jackson? What have you done?!" She begged in hysterics as John began pulling her away from Jackson. She shouted her objections, crying all the same. The door slammed shut loudly, leaving her believing the worst.
Emotions that mirrored her terror on the flight returned with equal ferocity. Rather than condescension from an ego driven psychopath, however, as Lisa hung her head in her hand, she could feel John watching her from his position above her, stood in the corner of the room. She used her hair as a curtain to give her privacy for the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Are you hungry Lisa?" He asked, breaking the deafening silence. She lifted her head from her hands, pulling he strands back behind her ears, she looked straight ahead, unable to look him in the face.
"It's been 2 days since the flight, Lisa, you need water for hydration and food." He continued, his tone slightly more impatient. She turned then, looking at him.
"What do you know of my father, John?" She asked quietly, hoping the use of his name will get him talking. He smirked then, though she suspected from unease than arrogance.
"Are you hungry or not?" He asked, shifting the weight to his right side and folding his arms. She clenched her jaw tight, looking away to stare ahead of her again. He moved, then, from the wall he was leaning against, toward her, Lisa tilted her head downwards, closing her eyes in bracing agony. He came to sit next to her on the bed.
"Listen Lisa, things are very messy now, Keefe is alive, the organisation is not happy with Jackson, regardless of his spotless profile. All I know, is that your dad isn't priority now." He offered kindly. She glanced up at him.
"You must know something-" Lisa began.
"Are you hungry or not Lisa? Either way, food will brought to you." He interrupted, his tone apathetic one more.
"Why are you keeping me here, you don't need me." She stated, eyes watering. He appeared disturbed for a moment before shaking his head and standing with his back to her.
"Please, John." She whispered, standing, placing a hand on his shoulder. She glanced down, noticing the metal ring that held a number of keys near the top of his left trouser pocket.
"Maybe I could just speak to him a moment and then-" She began, distracting him as she reached her shaking hand to his pocket, grabbing them. Realising her actions too late, he spun round just as she whipped the keys toward him, slicing a light line across his handsome jaw. As he grabbed his face, Lisa kicked him in the shin. Hard. Then ran toward the door, luckily, John hadn't put the chain on and as a motel room, she simply unbolted the door before racing out, down the hallway.
"Lisa!" John bellowed behind her. It was dark, it seemed and running to the front desk, no one was there. Hearing the pounding of steps down the hallway, she proceeded to continue outside into the car park. It was littered with cars and she had no idea which car the key was for. She ran and crouched behind a car. Listening to the heavy pants of John, he stood just outside the main entrance, looking around and scanning the cars. Feeling the keys, Lisa realised that a push of a button could open the car remotely, however, that would alert John to the fact she was close-by.
"Lisa, I know you're here somewhere." He called, a wicked charm coating his voice.
"Come out and I will tell you about your father.." He offered, placing his head to the ground to look underneath the cars for her where-abouts. Realising this, stuck between a dense and prickly bush and a car, she began to weave her way through cars. Just as she came to near the end of the row, a car pulled in, its headlamps blinding the way. She couldn't make out the driver nor whether the driver had seen her, she crouched none-the –less. She watched as John walked the few steps back to where the car had stopped near the main entrance, he ducked to speak to whoever was in the driver's seat. Using this distraction, she cautiously rose her head, aggressively pushing own the auto unlock button on the key's, hoping she wasn't out of range. The amber lights of a Laguna flashed, just a few cars away from where John was standing, she ducked her head once more, listening for movement. Silence greeted her and she began moving toward her target. John began to walk near the entrance and exit where Lisa had just been.
"Lisa! You'd better hope I find you before Jackson does, you hear me!" He hissed into the night. Lisa wondered if Jack would return soon, the thought alone made her speed up. As cruel fate would have it, another car pulled in, she watched John tense, just as she neared the Laguna she was aiming for. She watched as John and, what had to be, Jackson argue in hushed tones, just as Jackson reversed aggressively, parking the car horizontally across the exit. She didn't see anyone get out of the car, but John's handsome face, now etched with stress and anxiety, glanced about, ducking to check between the cars once more. Lisa felt panic, heart beating furiously, deafening her to any sound. She opened the car door, agonizingly slowly, the pop sound of its release seemed too loud to her ears. She began to pull herself in, pulling the door to with the intention of shutting it last-minute. The sight of a mobile phone caught her eye. With no time to make a call, she slipped it between the waistband of her skirt and just inside her underwear to stop it falling. Just as she pocketed it, the door behind her was ripped open to reveal an almost demonic looking Jackson Rippner. He gave a nasty smirk, before reaching to grab her.
"You going somewhere, Lisa?" He mocked, panting as he tried to fend off her struggles.
"Get off me!" She screamed. Just before Jackson grabbed her face. She kicked him hard in his hip, making him grunt and fall on top of her.
"Get the other car, John, I don't want to see you." He snarled out of the door. Jackson reached down, grabbing her waist and pulling her to a seated position before pushing her into the backseat. He crawled in as he dumped her legs behind the seat.
"No!" She cried.
"Use any pens this time, Leese?" He patronised. Only sniffles and heavy breathing was his response. As he began to drive out of the motel, she growled in suppressed anger before launching toward his face. From behind, she grabbed his face and neck, pulling backwards, effectively blocking his sight of the road.
"Mpff fuc-" He shouted through her fingers, before gnashing his teeth on her index finger. Swerving the car, Lisa fell back into her seat, holding the injured digit.
"MotherFucker! You could have gotten us killed, you stupid bitch!" He bellowed.
"You're gonna kill me anyway Jackson, what else is there?" She answered in equal ferocity.
He pulled the car over to the side of the road a she regain control of the vehicle, before getting out and opening the door near her. She cried out, shuffling away to the other side as he leaned in, grabbing her as she tried to open the other side door. Holding her upper arm, he grabbed her jaw to stop her struggles. He quietly observed her for a moment, eyes swarmed with anger and conflict, chest rising and falling with breath. She was caught by his gaze, watching him warily back. He moved his arm to grab her at the back of the head, gripping the strands there.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice small. He leaned in further, his hand gripped tighter. She placed her hands on his chest and collar-bone at the base of his neck, ready to push him away.
"I'm finishing the job." He whispered, his voice strained in pain.