Thanks to all of those who reviewed- glad you liked their little game. This one...I'm not all that happy with the beginning, but I've gone over and over and over it. This is as good as it gets, so bear with me. :)
KnoKnayme- Thank you as always, hon. :D
MademoiselleGF- I know I sent you the PM, but I'll paraphrase again here in case others had the same reaction that you did. When I say Jackson lacks self-awareness and doesn't seem to care what goes on around him, it's supposed to be that as far as Lisa could see, he isn't concerned with projecting an image. He will most definitely not be a foil for Brad- they are actually going to come across quite similar in many ways.
As for the sex scene, it was back at Jackson's place, but I decided I didn't want them going there again yet. But I think I found a place for it, so yay! And there will be some more scenes coming up in the next chapter or three. :)
Jj- Oh yeah, that's definitely going to be a theme here. Lisa obviously can't just suddenly come out as his total equal, but she's going to be coming out of her shell more and more with him.
Megan S Lox- They're fun to write. As for Caleb...we'll have to see what happens.
Pirate Gyrl- Glad you liked Todd. We'll be seeing more of him in the future. ;) I don't think your thoughts about Brad are unfounded.
I already have some idea of how Jackson's reveal is going to go down, but it's not going to happen for a while. And yes, Lisa is pretty cute. Jackson agrees, as you'll see.
Chapter 6: The Gardener
Lisa tapped her fingers absently on her thigh, staring at the window. She had gone too far, let herself get too much into the game. Things weren't alright between them, and the details of her personal life just weren't something she wanted to or should be sharing with him.
But she had to say something. They had only been in the car for a handful of minutes, and the tension was already suffocating.
"Where are you from?" she asked, blurting out the first thing that popped in her head. And obviously, even if she knew it was irrelevant, she was curious. Where did assassins come from? Was he created in some lab? She had never really thought about it before, but now that the idea was in her head, it was a curious thing to imagine that Jackson had a family somewhere. He might even have friends, the delusional bastards.
"D.C.," Jackson replied, seemingly unphased by the mundane question. "And-" His lips curled into a wry grin. "-Mississippi." He didn't elaborate, and Lisa tried again. He must not have spent that much time in Mississippi. Nothing about him seemed southern to her. She would definitely have placed him on the east coast, in some city. New York fit him perfectly, but D.C. wasn't out of the question, either.
"Why two places?" she asked, "Your parents divorced? And where in Mississippi?" Jackson shook his head, driving the car onto the freeway.
"My dad worked in D.C., so we lived there for a while, and then moved back to Jackson with my mom for security reasons."
"What does that mean?" Lisa asked, tilting her head. "Security reasons- wait. Jackson?" She grinned, shaking her head in disbelief. He had to be screwing with her. Or his parents were even more horrible than she had originally thought. Or- the most likely option- his name was a lie. But she decided to keep playing along for the time being. "You're Jackson from Jackson?"
"It means what it sounds like," he replied, now sounding slightly irritated. "He worked for the CIA, wasn't all that popular among certain circles, and so he sent us back there when I was five." Lisa only nodded, unsure of what to say to that. It sounded like Jackson's dad must have been high up, and she couldn't imagine that he could go from the son of someone like that to a criminal...did that mean he was on the level? But he had told her he didn't work for the CIA. But it also could have been a lie. Maybe he was some kind of black sheep of the family, branching off onto his own dark path.
"Worked?" she asked, finally picking up on his use of the past tense. She saved her new thoughts for later- maybe he could answer them without her having to ask. "Did something happen to him?"
Jackson shook his head again. "He's a politician now," he explained, and Lisa furrowed her brow. Why was he being so honest? Until this point, he had just been a name, a name that she had tried to Google more than once, but hadn't found any information. She had assumed since then that it was quite possible- downright likely- that he had given her some kind of alias.
But giving her all this information about his family? It was strange...along the lines of taking her to his condo. With just this information, she could probably not only find out his real name and turn him into the police, but create a world of trouble for his family.
"An important one?" she asked, trying to sound merely curious. But now she wanted to narrow it down. Jackson nodded, but again didn't elaborate, turning to glance at her instead.
"Does it matter?" he asked. Lisa shook her head, turning to look out the window again. It really didn't. As the idea of going to the police with any information he gave her fully settled in, she realized that it probably wouldn't make a difference. People didn't just disappear from police custody. He had been released intentionally- it was obvious now that she was really thinking about it.
That meant that either he was important, that he knew important people, or some combination of the two. Or there was a lot of money involved. Maybe all of the above. So no, it didn't really matter.
"I was just curious," she finally replied, staring him down until he finally looked back at the road. She was still more curious as to exactly why he had even answered her few questions, but it was probably a line of bullshit anyway. She couldn't trust any word that came out of his mouth. "But isn't being important in Mississippi kind of like being a champion rib eater? I mean, I guess it's impressive." She had nothing against Mississippi of course.
Jackson had opened his mouth to reply, but cut himself off with a laugh at her last statement. "I guess it is," he replied, still grinning faintly. "Which is probably why he doesn't live there anymore." He gave another soft laugh and rolled his shoulders. "Alright," he began again, "like I said, D.C. until I was five, then Mississippi until I was ten, Baltimore for a few years, back to D.C., then Kansas, Massachusetts, California, Boston, and now New York," he relayed quickly. "What else? I have three siblings- a twin brother, a younger sister, and a half-brother. Mom was a lawyer...she died when I was twelve." He paused, gesturing absently with his hand. "Cancer. That's when we went back to Dad." Any sadness that had been in his voice for those few seconds disappeared just as quickly, and he glanced back at Lisa, looking more amused than anything else now. "Satisfied?"
Lisa opened her mouth to respond, but only a surprised, uneasy laugh came from her lips, which really wasn't appropriate considering the circumstances. Yes, she had been asking, but why would he just...? "Not really," she replied honestly, still feeling a bit blindsided. His answers left her with a million more questions. Some part of her- the human part, maybe- couldn't help but feel sympathy about his mother. No kid deserved to lose a parent. And the fact that he had apparently been separated from his dad for at least five years of his childhood. And Jesus, he moved around. "It explains a lot," she murmured, not intended to say anything out loud.
"Does it?" he asked, and despite the fact that his voice still gave off hints of amusement, Lisa heard a tightness in his tone. As her gaze shifted, she noticed that the streetlights gave away his tight grip on the steering wheel. He was telling the truth- he had to be. If he were lying, giving a backstory of some character he made up, he would probably be more relaxed about it. Unless he was that good at lying, which he might well be. Probably was. But for the moment, she chose to believe that she was hearing the truth- this whole back-and-forth 'is he lying, is he not?' was already too exhausting.
"...oh. Do you still work as a...manager?" she asked, realizing that she was staring at his hands and he had been waiting for some kind of answer. It was a subject change, but she felt so much more comfortable with the focus on him instead of her, and besides, trying to give some opinion about his past would likely lead to a tense conversation that was downright unnecessary. And explanations weren't excuses, so it was irrelevant anyway.
"I do," he replied, and Lisa felt her stomach sink. Some part of her, no matter how naïve, had hoped that he had...made something of himself. She didn't like to think that in the two years since they had seen each other, he had been killing and using people just as he had tried to do with her. "But they've had me more on the legit side of things for a couple years."
Oh. Lisa suddenly recalled his statement about her actions not making for a comfortable work environment. Had he actually been...demoted, or whatever it was called? If so, it definitely didn't bode well for her. It practically screamed 'revenge'. "And what's that?" she asked softly, her voice shaking somewhat. Now the fear was starting to creep in. It hadn't even occurred to her that he would be punished for her sabotage, and definitely not anything long-term. It really wasn't good news. And it hit her with sickening reality that she may have been very stupid- she was in his car and had no idea where they were. Thankfully, Jackson continued speaking, enabling Lisa to distract herself before she could start panicking.
"Jocelyn-Mill," Jackson replied, shooting her a pointed look. Lisa tried to hide her surprise, but knew she wasn't successful. She knew that agency. She was quite familiar with the name, actually.
"That's the group helping Brad's dad," she pointed out, a light blush painting her cheeks. He obviously knew that. "Are you one of his advisors?" The world could not be that small. And the idea of Jackson of all people...well, Wellmont was scum, so it actually made sense in a weird way. Scum advising scum on how to be an asshole at a national level. Jackson gave a short nod, exiting the freeway.
"So you lied when you said you never lied to me," she pointed out, changing subjects again. She was now convinced he had given her an alias. Besides the fact that having a father with an important name made it very unlikely he used it, who in their right mind would name their child Jackson if that was where they were from? He probably just took it from the city itself and added Rippner because it sounded sinister. Not to mention the fact that it just happened to match her father's initials. No. It shouldn't have been a surprise, but she found herself irritated to find out that it actually bothered her. Jackson stopped at a red light, turning to look at her in confusion.
"Every word I just said was true," he replied, actually sounding somewhat defensive. But she wasn't going to let him get away with it.
"But you gave me a fake name," she accused. "Don't even try-"
"It was my name," he interrupted. "The one I grew up with...Rippner was my mother's maiden name. And I kept using it sometimes...for various reasons."
Lisa had no idea how to respond to that. She could guess at least one of the reasons- protecting his father. But again, she was surprised- pleasantly, actually- to find out that he had told the truth. Evidently not about killing his parents, but that had obviously been a joke. But she wasn't about to apologize- what else was she supposed to think? That an assassin went around telling people his real name? It was beyond reckless.
"But you don't use it anymore," she finally replied, and it wasn't a question. Even if he had somehow arranged to be released from custody, it wasn't like he could go by Jackson Rippner anymore. She actually felt a small stab of guilt- ridiculous but still present- that he couldn't use his mother's name anymore because of her.
No. Not because of her. Because of himself. If he hadn't come after her, come after her father, none of this would have happened. There was absolutely no way he was going to make her regret what she had done. Even if he gave her a laundry list of reasons why Keefe was scum and deserved assassination, she had done what she felt was right given the information she had at the time. No regrets.
Well, maybe one regret. If she could do it over again...well, besides the obvious wish that she could make none of it happen, she would do a better job staying out of the limelight after it happened. She hated the terrorist-thwarting, national heroine label that had been assigned to her overnight, and the fame that had come with it. Even if it was the reason she had met Brad in the first place, and even if no one really cared anymore, she had still never enjoyed that temporary spotlight.
"You can't care." Lisa snapped her attention back to Jackson when she heard his words. He could have been on the same conversation, but something in the distant tone told her otherwise. He was finally answering the questions she had asked back in her apartment. "You learn not to," he continued, his eyes never leaving the road. "You do your best not to hurt people who don't deserve it, but...well, you get it."
Lisa shook her head, feeling her anger rising all over again. "No, I don't," she snapped. "Are you saying I deserved what you did to me?" How could he sit there and claim that he tried not to hurt 'innocents' when if he had had his way, she would have had the Keefes' blood on her hands for the rest of her life? How was that not hurting her?
When Jackson remained silent, looking maddeningly unaffected, she continued. "Do you really think I would been able to live with myself? I deserved that guilt?"
He still said nothing, and this time, neither did Lisa. There was nothing more to say- she had gotten her point across, and if he wanted to ignore it to keep up his apparent superhero fantasy...his delusions weren't her problem anymore.
After several more minutes of silence, Jackson pulled into a parking lot and cut the engine. Lisa was about to get out of the car when he finally turned toward her.
"I fucked up that job," he admitted bluntly, and Lisa removed her hand from the door, unsure of what to say. "In many ways. You were..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "...the wrong woman to choose. I missed it then." He put a hand on Lisa's jaw, turning her face toward him, and she saw that same sincerity, that same remorse, but much more magnified. He wasn't even trying to hide it. She wanted to turn away, more uncomfortable than she had been, but he held her fast. "No, you didn't deserve it. Most people would be perfectly content to sit back and convince themselves that they had no choice, but you knew it was bullshit. You were- are- too good a person."
Lisa clenched her jaw against his fingers, feeling her anger reaching a point that she hadn't felt in years. He wasn't going to sweet talk his way out of anything. He could have ruined her life, and why? Because of her job. 'Most people are shit' just wasn't going to cut it. "Or maybe you're just a horrible one," she suggested steadily, still giving a feeble attempt to play off her own anger. Jackson gave her a rueful smile.
"It wasn't personal, Leese," he replied softly, sliding his hand back to cradle her head, running his fingers through her curls. "If it were, things would have ended up much differently."
Jackson fell silent, trying to gauge Lisa's reaction without making it obvious that he was studying her. He saw the confusion and questioning dancing in her eyes, and knew he had hit his target. It was the truth, but not the entire truth, and he definitely wasn't relaying it out of choice. Throughout the night, when she was mostly absorbed in her little world of whirling Lisa thoughts, he had been studying her, learning her language all over again.
It hadn't been difficult. He knew what she had been trying to do earlier, and he actually had to tip his hat to her in that regard. Not many would have the wherewithal to actually rise to his challenges. And really, she had almost gotten the better of him a handful of times.
But now they weren't in her apartment anymore. They were in his car, on his turf, and even if she didn't realize it, Lisa had surrendered her advantage. She was hanging on his every word, trying to analyze everything that came out of his mouth- he recognized the behavior because he himself shared that habit. He was just better at hiding it.
And he had shared the information about his family- just those barebones- because he knew she regarded him as some evil entity, and it was his way taking care of various issues. First of all, he had given her his backstory. A backstory meant humanity. And every word was true, if only because he hadn't bothered to come up with something false earlier and it was never a good idea to make up that kind of information on the fly. She had to see him as an actual person, or he could never pull her in. As for his current job, he hadn't particularly wanted to share how close he was to Wellmont so early, but it would make things more complicated if she found out later.
It had also occurred to him that she had considered him some kind of criminal- which he was, and he had given her every reason to think so- but she thought he was a simple hired gun, or something similar, which he was far from. He was much worse, not that he wanted her to head in that direction. Only time would tell whether or not it would take root, but in telling her about his past- specifically the bit of information about his father- he had planted seeds of legitimacy about his job, which would likely come in handy later. Killing was killing, but he knew that Lisa needed that bit of morality, and he was content to let her think it was there.
It hadn't taken him long to realize that threatening her into submission wouldn't work this time- not that it had before. He had to be creative, which he didn't mind in the slightest. It wasn't a simple seduction- Lisa was far too clever for that. After that first night, his plan had evolved more than slightly. He now had the task of winning her over. When he had presented it to his superiors, they doubted him, but he had made his case well. He may be the last person Lisa would trust, but he also knew that if anyone could turn her, it was him, largely for that same reason. Her dislike for him was wild enough that he received her undivided attention.
Lisa was desperate. It was disgustingly obvious. She was also ignored. These were the issues he had to deal with- he had to listen to her rambling, give her attention, and then take it away. Give away enough truth to distract her from the questions he wasn't answering. Keep her guessing as to his motives, keep her analyzing- for now, at least- because it made her think. It made her question. And doubt was his best friend, in this phase at least.
To aid the process, Jackson had suddenly formed a new plan- a very specific plan that would further that growth. He needed her flustered, to get out of the car too distracted to pay attention to her surroundings. So he had thrown out one of the qualities he hated the most- vulnerability. He hated it even more than usual because it wasn't a false vulnerability- it was the truth.
Well, the statements were true, but remorse wasn't. He had learned too much from that job to regret it. It was in those pre-dawn hours that he had learned exactly what could happen when an associate allowed himself to care about his mark. And he had never- and would never- make that mistake again. He wouldn't let himself fall again- she was just a job, just like all the rest. He just had to read her- objectively- and react.
And sure enough, Jackson had to hide a smile when Lisa's cheeks flushed and she quickly exited the car, mumbling something not calling her Leese anymore. She just couldn't handle the idea of him having a heart, could she? But Jackson wasn't offended- in fact, he had been hoping for a similar reaction. All he cared was that she left her purse on the floor mat.
With a quick glance to make sure she wasn't looking, Jackson swiftly shoved the bag under the seat. Now, all he had to do was keep her distracted until he had dropped her off without realizing she was leaving it behind.
Lisa crossed her arms over her chest as she entered the restaurant- it was more of a bar, actually. It was nothing special- not even noteworthy, really. It wasn't classy, wasn't a hole...wasn't anything. She didn't know what she had expected, but this wasn't it.
She bit down on her bottom lip as she heard Jackson walk up behind her. Get it together, she reminded herself for the countless time. Why was she letting him get to her? Whether he was lying, telling the truth...it didn't matter. It just didn't. He was no one.
But that little confession...it shook her in a way that she couldn't quite define. She could stand there and give a million reasons as to why she shouldn't trust it- shouldn't trust him- but really, it had thrown her for quite the loop. When she had thought back on where Jackson might be, what he might be doing, how he might be- frequently at first, and then less and less as time progressed- remorseful had never made the list.
She had assumed that he was angry, possibly vengeful. Hell, it had surprised her when she hadn't seen a sign of him in those first few months. She had fully expected he would 'finish the job', as he had promised. And even at this moment, she still couldn't be quite sure what he had meant by that at the time. Kill her? But if he had wanted to simply do that...he had had more than one opportunity. And really, it had surprised her to see him lose his composure so drastically. Surely, he must have had someone attempt to thwart his efforts before. But despite what he had just said, he had taken it so personally. Two years had left her with plenty of time to replay the few hours they had spent together, and unfortunately, to come up with more questions than answers.
And now, the man with the answers stood next to her, but she definitely wasn't going to ask. She told herself that she didn't care to know anymore, but maybe she didn't want to, either. She didn't want to hear him try to justify what he had done, or defend it, or worst of all- as she had come to realize- regret it.
While he should regret it, Lisa didn't want him to. It made it harder to hold it against him...she had always believed that people could change for the better if they chose, but that had gone away after the flight. Some people were missing key pieces of their humanity. And Jackson just wasn't human, didn't have feelings. It was easier that way.
She had no idea what his deal was, what his intentions were, and she knew that she couldn't get an answer that she could trust. That left her with two options- try to figure it out herself, or drop it. And she knew she had to go with the latter. She had to end this weird dance between them, and keep an eye out for his tricks. She had already gotten over those traces of fear. If he wanted to kill her, he'd kill her. No, he definitely wanted something else. That was one thing she could claim with almost absolute certainty- if he didn't have a use for her, he would have either...disposed of her already, or continued to stay away. She was less sure that she didn't really care what that use was.
"So what?" she finally asked after they had found a table to sit at and ordered drinks, raising her voice to talk over the band. Jackson didn't look up from the menu, but she saw a slight shift in his features, and knew he was listening to her. "That doesn't change anything."
Jackson let out another small laugh. "You asked a question, and I answered it," he reminded her, glancing up, and even in the dim light, Lisa recognized the familiar patronizing in his eyes.
"And I'm telling you it doesn't change anything," she replied firmly, matching his smile.
"Why Lisa," he countered, feigning hurt. "I thought we had a clean slate."
Lisa shook her head, glancing down at the menu. "And I thought southern boys were supposed to be gentlemen," she pointed out.
"I am," he replied, folding his menu and setting it on the table. "I bought you a drink, I helped with your bag, and I got you an aspirin."
Lisa couldn't help but glance up again, amused and somewhat started by the strong drawl that was now in his voice. And slightly aroused- naturally, she had always had a thing for southern boys. "And then you tried to strangle me," she reminded him, gladly falling back into the playfulness of before. It came surprisingly easily, probably because she found that she didn't really have to think about it.
"But I didn't kill you," he pointed out matter-of-factly, as though this were some kind of debate. "How is that not gentlemanly?"
Lisa shook her head. "How utterly thoughtless of me," she said in mock apology. The two paused their exchange to order their respective meals, and when Jackson's voice reverted back to his normal lilt as he spoke to the server, Lisa realized just how natural it sounded.
It was still uniquely silky in a way she didn't want to dwell on, and now that she really thought about it, it was lower than she had remembered- was that just time, or a result of what she had done to him? But the point was, she was actually impressed by how well he covered up what was probably his native accent. She would never have guessed. She couldn't help but wonder how much work it had taken.
She also couldn't help but smile condescendingly at the server, who wasn't even looking at her. The woman was really turning on the charm for Jackson, much like that woman on the plane, and like Lisa herself when they had first met. She recognized the look on his face, polite, but obviously not interested- and then came that glance. She looked back at him at the same time that his eyes darted to meet hers, and he gave her that glint as though they shared some private joke.
Lisa just scoffed as the server left them alone again. She couldn't care less who flirted with Jackson, or vice versa. She was more concerned with the fact that the server- Michelle?- would probably forget- or 'forget'- to tell the cook to leave off the mayo on her sandwich now.
The two remained silent for a few minutes, and Lisa's attention faded over to the band. She wasn't very familiar with blues, but she definitely didn't hate it. She was somewhat surprised to find that Jackson was a fan- he obviously knew the place, and that server had seemed to recognize him- but come to think of it, she wasn't sure what kind of music she imagined him listening to...maybe some kind of techno, like the movies. It was just another thing she hadn't really thought about.
When she saw Michelle(?) shoot another smile at Jackson, she chuckled again. "So," she began, taking a sip from her vodka cranberry as she turned back to him, "do you see yourself as some kind of James Bond? Taking out the bad guys, saving the world, and bedding all the ladies along the way? Making them all fall in love with you?"
Jackson leaned back in his seat, rocking his glass of whiskey on the tabletop, his eyebrows raised. "I wish," he replied, scratching his jaw. "The job would be infinitely easier- and more interesting- if I could shoot cyanide darts from my wrist and had a grenade pen." He paused, thinking. "And if I had a reason to use them. I already told you- they've kept me mostly legit. I run recon now- support, information gathering."
Lisa crossed one leg over the other, running her finger along the rim of her glass. "So you're just a bitch now," she shot back with a grin, intentionally using cruder words than she normally would. "Why Jackson...are you someone's dog?"
Something in his eyes changed, an almost defiant spark, but he quickly covered it up with a smile. "Did I hear incorrectly, or did you just tell me you're in love with me?" he taunted, changing the subject.
Lisa let out a laugh, completely amused now- both at the very idea of falling in love with him, and the fact that she had obviously struck a nerve. "Didn't you tell me that you are?" she shot back, referring to their previous conversation and keeping him the center of attention. "If it was personal, things would have gone differently...?" She leaned forward, forcing herself to attempt to remain stone-faced. It was a little trick she had picked up from him, one that he seemed to be having a hard time remembering himself at the moment. "Is that what this is about?"
She didn't really believe that he was there because of some kind of romantic feelings for her, but in a weird way, she wanted it to be true. She wanted to make him squirm. And...it could be true. Maybe. It definitely seemed more appealing than some revenge plot, anyway.
But her timing was either rotten, or Jackson was a lucky son of a bitch, because the mood was severed in half by the server returning with their food. The question was still hanging in the air, but it might as well not exist at all for how quickly the tension had dissipated. And there was mayo on her sandwich.
Grimacing in distaste, Lisa slid the bun along the edge of her plate, scraping off the mayonnaise. She didn't hate it- just didn't like the taste of it in that much excess. She looked up again to see Jackson watching her with barely-contained laughter.
"You could just send it back, you know," he reminded her. "Or would that be too bold for you?"
Lisa shrugged, playing off his dig. "It's not a big deal," she replied. "I don't want to wait for another one, and I don't want a sandwich full of resentment. It's like...bad vibe chicken." She took a bite, pleased to find that the chicken itself wasn't too dry, and looked up again to see Jackson looking surprised. "What?" she asked, taking another bite.
Jackson shook his head, quickly collecting himself taking a bite of his reuben. "Nothing," he replied, seemingly dismissing his own thought, but then continued after a pause. "My sister says something similar...she calls it 'fuck you food'." He chuckled softly. "You're both insane." Lisa opened her mouth to respond, but Jackson interrupted her before she even started. "I know the reasoning behind it," he assured her, taking another bite. "And I don't love you."
Lisa set down her sandwich, caught off-guard by the blunt words shrouded in an easy tone. She had almost missed them, actually- he just wove it into his previous statement. "Then why are you here?" she asked, deciding that despite what she had previously told herself, she did need an answer. She doubted he would tell her point blank, but she was curious to see what kind of maybe half-true tale he would spin. And if he was actually honest...great. Maybe.
Jackson let out a half-laugh, taking a drink of whiskey. "Alright," he finally said, clasping his palms together and pressing his face into the small gap before sliding them down his chin. "Mostly curiosity." He leaned back in his chair, studying Lisa intently. "I have had quite a bit of time to reflect on what happened last time- as I'm sure you have- and I came to the conclusion that I chose the wrong woman- which I already said." He took another drink, and Lisa crossed her arms, waiting for him to get to the point. Something in his tone was familiar to her, but she couldn't place it.
"I thought you were too strong, but-" His eyes narrowed somewhat, and Lisa tightened her grip. No matter how confident she tried to be, there was something in his piercing stare that had always made her uncomfortable. "That's not true, is it?"
He paused, seeming to wait for some kind of response, but Lisa only stared. She had no idea what he was getting at. She also didn't know why he sounded so accusing- she had never claimed to be some Wonder Woman. Plus, she couldn't really care less what Jackson thought about how strong or weak she was.
"Like I said, I saw your engagement photo," he continued after realizing that she wasn't going to reply. "And it intrigued me- I should have known where you have been all this time, but to be honest, I haven't paid much attention to the ongoings of the elite."
Lisa narrowed her eyes, her frame tensing. She definitely didn't like the sound of that. 'I should have known where you have been all this time'? That wasn't ominous, not at all.
"So I followed you around. I saw that same insipid, empty smile, and I wondered..." He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table. "What could possibly make such a strong woman revert to a miserable, hollow shell?"
Lisa set her jaw and placed her palms on the table, attempting to push her chair back and just leave. She may have had to sit there and listen to him give a half-assed analysis of her personality back on that plane, but she definitely didn't this time. He didn't know anything. She didn't even care anymore that he knew he had gotten to her- she just couldn't stand the idea that he thought he knew her.
But Jackson was faster, grabbing her forearm tightly and pressing it down to the table. "No," he hissed, leaning further in. "You want to play, Lisa? You have absolutely no idea what you're doing. Maybe the woman I thought you were could, but you?" He scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer, and Lisa pulled at his grip, wanting so badly to slap him that arrogant expression off his face.
"I was wrong," he continued, his fingers digging into her arm. "The strength I saw? That was the anomaly." His stare continued, unwavering, as his smirk faded. "Pathetic," he finished, his voice rock steady as he repeated the word she had spat in his face two years ago. And with that, he released her arm, throwing it roughly at her chest as he swiftly got to his feet, pulling a stack of bills from his wallet and tossing them on the table. "And you can take a cab."
Jackson quickly turned away from the angered woman, striding toward the door. He hated monologues, and hated the drama of 'reveal and run' even more, but it served his purpose in this instance. A flood of words to really get her blood boiling, and mostly the harsh truth- and he knew she knew it. Coming from him, though, it had to get her mind especially reeling in distaste.
He needed to get her angry again. He needed her to remember the rush of adrenaline that came from spitting a firm fuck you into the face of someone who really deserved it, whether with words or actions. It was the start, and then it could evolve into something more controlled and less instinctive. And for the time being, he was completely willing to bear the brunt of her anger if it meant rekindling that spark again.
Jackson wasn't worried about pushing her too far. Telling her that distasteful truth, to her face no less, would pull in a woman like Lisa. She was surrounded by people who were content to believe her shallow lies, and he suspected that there was a real woman buried inside who was desperate to be heard, to be seen, flaws and all. He had seen it back at his condo- he had serious doubts that she screamed until she was hoarse for that blissfully ignorant fiancé. And then again tonight- he knew she didn't snap at her insecure father when he unintentionally guilted her into assuring him that she was doing fine, leaving her feeling as though she couldn't tell the truth. She placated him, placated all of them. She didn't fight any of them like she did him.
Jackson had seen it in her eyes, the same spark he knew could glisten in his own- she enjoyed it. And she could enjoy it so much more if she let go of her inhibitions.
Above all, he knew there was no way in hell she would let him get away with what he had just said to her. He was counting on it.
Sure enough, just as he was approaching his car, he heard her quick footfalls behind him, and he turned in time to reflexively catch her hands in his as she attempted to shove him. He fought his initial urge to push her back, holding her in place instead.
"You don't know me," she snapped at him, pulling at his grip again. "You're not some..." She sighed in frustration, obviously having come after him without any idea of what she wanted to say. "So what if you followed me? You think that makes you some expert?"
Jackson smiled at the irony. Following her obviously didn't make him an expert on her- her behavior on the flight had proved that beyond a doubt. No, he only knew what little he did because he saw something familiar in her, not that he would tell her that yet- or ever, if he could help it.
"Well, maybe I do try to make people happy more than I worry about myself," she continued. "What's wrong with that? It's better than walking around like an arrogant asshole who only cares about himself and uses people." Jackson scoffed softly- this meant nothing to him. Even if her analysis weren't mostly true, she was the topic at hand, not him. "At least he doesn't manipulate me."
Jackson raised both eyebrows. That was out of left field. And he had never implied such a thing. That meant...Oh, Leese...you know.
"What were those boxes?" he asked, assuming she would know what he was talking about. He had seen the look in her eyes when he had pointed them out earlier. He knew damn well they weren't trash. He didn't know exactly what they were, but he had a few guesses. That same sadness flashed across Lisa's eyes, but she didn't reply, and Jackson pressed on. "And the Prada? The Burberry and the Balenciaga?" He lowered his head, his lips barely grazing her ear. "The Agent Provocateur?" he whispered, implying that he had seen her in lingerie more than once. "I don't remember you being a vapid fashion plate before you met him, Lisa." He smiled sadly, actually taking pity on her. She knew. She had to know, or she never would have said it.
Lisa was still restrained by her hands, but she threw her body against his, sending him back against his car. "He doesn't..." she began, and Jackson saw the flush in her cheeks caused by his close proximity. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she enjoyed even this. "I dressed well before him."
Jackson nodded. "You did," he agreed, and used his grip on her hands to pull her closer. "For work." He glanced down at the bumblebee t-shirt he had chosen for her from the back of her closet. "How long has it been since you wore that?" he asked, and then raised his gaze to meet her flashing eyes again. "I'm assuming it doesn't fit your new job description, does it?"
He couldn't even gloat when he saw his attack hit its target. He could see in her breaking eyes, the slight sag in her posture, that somewhere deep inside, she already knew what he was talking about. He released her hands, hoping she wouldn't use the chance to run. "The key to manipulation is that your victim can't know they're being manipulated," he told her, using the distraction to allow the two bills he had slipped in the cuff of his sweater to slide into his palm unnoticed. "Trust me," he added, sticking both hands into her front jeans pockets and pulling her closer, disguising the fact that he was slipping her cab fare as just another instance of disrespecting her personal space. He forced himself to remain cold, ignored that urge to fix the sadness in her eyes. He couldn't afford sympathy- he needed to push her further.
But...not tonight. He couldn't lay it all down yet, or she would just resist. It was a delicate process, and really, he might have gone too far already. But there was something buried deep in him that was bitter. He might not want her for himself, but she obviously deserved better than the life she had resigned herself to.
"He's not..." Lisa trailed off as her gaze lowered, subconsciously leaning closer to him as she shivered. Jackson shook his head, bringing his hands up again over the cold skin on her arms in an attempt to warm her up. "He loves me- and I love him. He won't hurt me like-" She cut herself off, lifting her head again, pulling from his grip. "Go to hell," she snapped firmly, defiant again.
Jackson nodded, his eyebrows furrowing. He knew this was when he should have come back with something biting and end the conversation, leaving those seeds he had planted to grow in her mind. But her last line- before she had remembered who she was talking to- had struck something in him, thrown him off his game.
"Don't forget to get your coat," he replied, turning to grab the car door.
"I don't want to see you ever again." Jackson couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cold voice behind him. But he would play along. He'd let her run her little scripted 'good girl' scene, play the villain, and let her be on her way. He had already said more than what he came to say, anyway.
"You're being dramatic, Lisa," he replied, his eyes focused straight ahead. "You don't have to break up with me- we're just fucking. Well..." He smirked, turning to face her. "...just fucked." Lisa narrowed her eyes.
"And that's over," she insisted. "And if you do keep following me, I'll call the cops." Jackson ran a hand through his hair, chuckling softly as he glanced down at the ground. They both knew her threats were hollow. They both knew that she knew better than that.
"No worries," he retorted. "Like I said...we're done. I got what I wanted." He lifted his chin again, eyeing her. "Did you?"
She crossed her arms, and Jackson saw the familiar sight of hurt being pushed back into submission. "I guess," she replied, obviously choosing the words carefully. Jackson scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. She was adorable sometimes. Really.
"If that's what you sound like when you're somewhat content, I pity your neighbors when you really get going. If you ever do." He glanced at her, knowing his taunt was hitting its mark perfectly. It had absolutely nothing to do with the sounds she had made during sex, or even her, really- it was a slight against Brad. She read him so well sometimes.
He saw the anger rising in her again, and knew it was definitely his cue to exit the conversation. And so, he shot her a wink, acknowledging that they understood each other. "See you around," he remarked, giving himself a second to catch the initial excitement in her face before turning around again and quickly getting into his car. They both knew this wasn't over.
Without even giving himself time to look back, Jackson drove out of the parking lot, feeling a slight remorse nagging at him. Regardless of what Lisa may think, he was still human, and he did feel like something of a prick for abandoning her with no way to get back into her apartment. And he could only hope she found the money he had slipped in her pocket to pay for her cab.
Jackson shrugged, dismissing his concerns. Lisa was resourceful- she'd figure it out. He was sure she still had her phone- she kept it in her coat, not her purse. So...she would be fine.
If he were feeling like being honest, though, he would admit that the cab fare and her keys had absolutely nothing to do with his guilt. He won't hurt me like you. She had never had to finish that sentence- he had known exactly where it was going.
He hadn't been lying when he had mentioned wondering what made a strong woman like Lisa go back to what she had been. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to him that it was because of him. It really should have, but somehow...he had thought- maybe hoped- that she had been able to overcome what had happened. The idea of Lisa- knowing she was being molded into someone she just wasn't- willingly chose a life with Brad Wellmont because of what he had done...well, it disgusted him, as it should- it was fucking weak. But it also made him feel guilty.
Jackson sighed heavily, lighting a cigarette. He knew the perception of Lisa. He had lived among a similar set- thankfully had mostly absented himself from such a shallow world- and he knew their ways. To them, Lisa's heroics, and her actually impressive work background, were irrelevant. She was a gold digger. He couldn't be sure if Brad saw her as such, but he could be confident that his peers did.
In the little time he had spent watching her again, and from the interactions with her, it was obvious to Jackson that despite how it appeared, Lisa was definitely not with Brad for the money. If she were, she would happily do whatever he wanted, gladly transform herself into that perfect little accessory. Which was a shame, really- Lisa had the potential to be more of a partner in a power couple than arm candy. She wasn't meant to give an empty smile and nod along. She had spirit, drive- even if she was content to pretend that she didn't, Jackson had a feeling it was only a matter of time before she felt too trapped to ignore it anymore. And hopefully that moment coincided with his desperate need for it.
The point was that Lisa had other reasons for being with him. Jackson had considered that maybe she did love him, even if he hadn't been able to see it, but it was now occurring to him that it was as simple as the worst Brad would ever do to Lisa was put her in a nice dress and subconsciously coerce her into locking her brain away in a box. There were worse things, more perverse violations.
And yes, Jackson had committed them, but that wasn't the point. Yes, he felt guilty that his actions had driven her back into her defenses, even though he knew it was her choice. But he could handle guilt.
The point was that Lisa was changing his job again, forcing him to have a dual- triple?- mission. Well...not an entirely new goal, really. It wasn't enough to light that fire in her again. He also had to make her see that being open to risk, open to hurt, wasn't as terrifying as her experiences had shown it to be. The work he had already done was worthless if he couldn't accomplish that. Him- the very person who while being the one who had drawn her out in the first place, had also been the catalyst for an even harder turn into the disgusting world of safe.
And how the fuck was he supposed to do that?