Thanks to BW4-eva, my one reviewer for this chpater. Hopefully the lack of reviews is simply because people don't feel like leaving a review, not because this many readers have decided that they hate it. I always welcome con-crit, unless it's straight up spite. If there's something you like, don't like, want to see happen, don't want to see happen, please leave me a quick little note. I really don't want to come across as one of those writers begging for reviews, but to be honest, it's the only compensation fan-fic writers get and it's a little hard to be confident enough to keep writing the story wondering if people are hating it or just not leaving any kind of feedback. But don't worry, I'm not about to start holding the story hostage. :)
And onto happier things. Lisa's getting her shit together more and more, but her thoughts will definitely come off as inconsistent in this chapter. It's purely intentional, because she's still pretty mixed up, even though she is starting to get her head together again. And if the ending seems abrupt, don't worry- chapter 9 will start right where 8 leaves off.
Tension!
Chapter 8: Game On.
Lisa gazed out the window at the towering building, now feeling nervous. The butterflies had been building throughout the duration of the ride, after that initial high had begun wearing off. She was remembering their last encounter, how infuriating Jackson had been. It wasn't that she was changing her mind about seeing him- she just wondered if he would give her the time of day this time.
But that was ridiculous- he himself had said he'd see her around, right? Or he could have been full of shit then, too. If nothing else, she could at least thank him for returning her purse. That was the polite thing to do.
"I'll be fine," she assured Todd as he began shrugging off his jacket again. She had already turned him down once. Yes, it was cold out, but what excuse could Todd give to Brad if he noticed the missing jacket? It was one thing for Lisa to "disobey" Brad's orders to go home, but she didn't want to get Todd in trouble. For all her fiancé ever need know, Todd had dropped her off at home and she had left after that. If he ever even found out that much.
With that, Lisa took a deep breath and exited the car before he could argue again, or before she could think herself out of it. She shivered again in the night air, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked to the buzzer. Pressing the button once, Lisa paused, waiting for some kind of response.
"Hey Lisa!" She turned around again, hearing Todd calling from behind her. Frowning, she approached the car in time to see him shove his phone in his pocket, and leaned against his open window frame. "Do you want me to wait for you, or should I head back?" the man asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern and confusion.
"Go on back," Lisa insisted, trying to keep an ear open for any voice from the entry system. She stood upright again, waiting for him to drive off, but Todd made no move to pull away, frowning instead. "It's fine," Lisa repeated firmly. The man glanced back at the front entrance of Jackson's building, and if Lisa didn't know better, she would think he was waiting for something.
No, he was probably just confused as to why she had come here in the first place. Her imagination was running wild again. "Well," he began slowly, "if you're sure..."
Lisa nodded again, trying not to feel irritated. He was obviously concerned, either for her or his job, or maybe both. "I'm sure," she insisted, and couldn't help but note how similar this entire exchange was to talking to her father. The driver glanced behind her again and straightened, nodding quickly.
"Good night," he said, quickly pulling away. Lisa watched him leave for a few seconds, shaking her head. He was so jumpy sometimes, but it probably had something to do with her previous implications that his job was in danger.
"Can I help you?" Lisa let out a silent gasp and whirled around. She hadn't heard him come up behind her at all- how the hell was he so quiet? Obviously it comes from sneaking up behind people to kill them. She bit her lower lip, caught off guard by the ice in his eyes. She was obviously unwelcome, and in that moment, she realized that she hadn't come up with anything to say.
Jackson raised an eyebrow as he slowly approached her, his arms crossed. "Well?" he asked again, stepping within inches of her.
"Oh," Lisa replied, the English language coming back to her as she tried to run passed her surprise and embarrassment. "I just wanted to thank you for bringing my purse back," she explained, her voice firmer than her legs.
Jackson chuckled darkly, taking his time as his eyes scanned over her figure. "You left a campaign dinner early to come here just to thank me for not stealing your purse?" he asked, shrugging off his coat as he spoke. He held it open for Lisa, who gratefully turned around and slid her arms into the warm garment.
"Why weren't you there?" she asked, not even bothering to get hung up on the fact that one, he knew exactly where she was, and two, he was mocking her again. Obviously he knew about the dinner- he was one of Wellmont's advisors. And obviously he was teasing her- he was Jackson.
"I had a meeting," he replied simply as she turned around again, his grin widening. "Did you miss me?"
Maybe. "Not really. I just find it interesting that even though you claim to be from Jocelyn-Mill, you're never around for campaign events," she replied.
"I have better things to do," Jackson explained, and began walking. Lisa followed quickly, walking at his side. She frowned slightly when she realized he was head toward the parking garage. Was he taking her home? "Don't look so sad," he soothed, but Lisa heard the laugh anyway. "I told you- meeting."
It's 8 o'clock. What meeting? But Lisa didn't reply. She wasn't going to show him exactly how let down she felt. She felt her cheeks burning, the realization of just how stupid it had been to come to Jackson hitting her. Obviously he had said those words to get a rise out of her- he had no intention of spending any more time with her than he already had. But that didn't bother her so much- what bothered her was that she cared at all. She wasn't supposed to care. It wasn't part of the plan.
"What's wrong?" he asked as they approached his car, and for a second, Lisa swore the question was genuine. But it was Jackson, and it was bullshit, so she just shook her head. She wasn't going to give him the open herself to more mocking by giving him a lying 'fine', but also wasn't going to admit she had problems by telling him an honest 'it's none of your business'.
"It's our anniversary," she announced, giving him a tiny smile as she changed the subject. "Yours and mine," she clarified quickly, making sure he didn't think she was talking about Brad.
"Well, shit," he replied with another chuckle. "I forgot to get you something."
"And you're hardly dressed for the occasion," Lisa noted with a half-laugh, staring pointedly at his jeans and grey Henley. "Totally dropped the ball." She had to admit, even this little bit of stupidity was cheering her up.
Jackson sighed, holding the passenger door open for her. "Alright," he said, sounding oddly defeated as he reached into the pocket of the coat she was wearing and pulled out his phone.
"What are-" Lisa asked as he began dialing, but he cut her off by holding up his index finger with his free hand.
"We'll finish tomorrow," he said into the phone before abruptly snapping it shut and handing it over to her. "I'm taking you out," he explained simply, taking her hand to help her keep her balance as she sat down in the tight dress.
Lisa stared at the dashboard as Jackson closed the door and walked around to the driver side, somewhat impressed. She already knew he came from important families, but it still surprised her to see the tiny moments of pure class, even while his words and facial expressions were usually anything but gentlemanly.
And as much as she disliked herself for it, she couldn't rid her mind of comparisons between him and Brad for that last gesture. Her fiancé had never delayed, rescheduled, or cancelled a meeting for her, let alone walked out in the middle of one like this. And the fact that Jackson hadn't bothered giving a hint of an explanation...she was reminded all over again how refreshing it was to see a man who wasn't concerned with his image. Or maybe Jackson's image was the kind of man who would just walk out with no excuse and expect whomever was left behind would follow his orders without question. Regardless, it was...attractive?
No, not attractive- interesting was a better word. He was just so damn intriguing, and she was finding that she wanted to know him more and more. And it wasn't even as though she actually trusted him- she was still sure he was up to something, but even that unknown something was starting to fascinate her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see how the pieces came together. He was just this intriguing mess of refinement and damage.
"So what really brought you?" Jackson asked, cutting through her musings. "Don't tell me it was to thank me."
Lisa frowned, staring out the window as she heard him light a cigarette. "I didn't come to talk about it," she replied flatly. Jackson was so far down on the list of people she could talk to, but in all honesty, so was everyone else she could think of. She couldn't talk to her parents about the possibility of calling off the engagement- not only would it crush them, it would push her right back into that world of pity. She couldn't talk to her friends back in Miami- they still looked at things as though she had won some kind of lottery and could never understand exactly what was so horrible about her situation. And obviously she couldn't talk to her New York friends- they were on Brad's side of things.
That didn't mean she was about to pour out her heart. She didn't want to talk, or to think- she wanted a new world, just for the night. She didn't even want to think about her plan just yet. "Alright," he murmured, his tone thoughtful. She turned to look at him as he pulled the phone from her pocket again. He quickly fired off a text message before handing the phone back, and flashed her a mischievous grin as he turned his attention back to the street. "I know where we're going."
Lisa frowned in confusion as Jackson led her into a dark gym. The place smelled so...alive, and the air was warm- she was fairly sure people had just been there. Had Jackson seriously called them all off? How? More important- why?
As Jackson flipped on the lights and then quickly disappeared into the locker room, Lisa wandered around, her arms crossed. There wasn't anything special about the place. The equipment wasn't all that new or elaborate. It looked like a generic gym, with one exception. "Why are we here?" she asked, slipping off her heels and awkwardly maneuvering through the ropes into the boxing ring. She had never been in- on?- one before. The floor was firmer than she had expected- she had always thought it would be more springy, like a gymnastics floor.
"If there's one thing I've learned about women, it's that you like to vent," Jackson replied, his voice surprisingly void of any kind of mocking as he entered the main room again. "It makes you feel better. And if you don't want to talk, then I figured you could fight it off." He stepped up onto the outer edge of the ring, bracing his weight against the ropes. "Come here," he continued, and Lisa saw a pair of boxing gloves tucked under his arm and another set at his feet.
"Are you serious?" she asked skeptically, walking over to him. "I'm not fighting you." She eyed the gloves and then let her gaze fall to her own dress. "I'm not dressed for it, and it's ridiculous anyway. And who knows where those have been?" Even as she protested, though, there was something about the idea of squaring off in a boxing ring with Jackson that tugged at her brain, sparking some strange desire.
"They've been on Jamie's hands," Jackson replied simply, leaning closer to Lisa's face with that same playful grin. "You definitely don't want to go bare knuckles, and wraps aren't going to cut it unless you want bruises," he explained, using his free hand to tug the lapel of his coat down her shoulder.
Lisa stepped away, shifting her shoulders to let the coat fall to the floor. She was too warm now anyway. "You actually want me to hit you?" she asked, incredulous. She felt as though she was in that movie, Fight Club, with Brad Pitt demanding she hit him in the face.
Jackson nodded, setting the gloves down by his feet. "I want you to try," he replied, pulling the Henley over his head to reveal a grey wife beater. "But you'll have to work for it. Sound fair?"
Lisa clenched her jaw, staring hard at the man as she felt her frustration rising. He wasn't taking her seriously. Of course she didn't think he would just stand there and let her give him a right hook to the jaw. This was just another way of mocking her, wasn't it? Willingly ordering her to hurt him, probably thinking she would never leave a mark. To hell with that.
"Just watch yourself," she muttered, bending down and gripping the silky fabric of her gown. Without the added height of her heels, she was tripping over the hem, and it was only going to get in her way. Plus, she hated the damn thing, and felt a streak of pure satisfaction as she tore through the gown with a grunt of effort.
Tossing the uneven strip of fabric aside, Lisa realized that although her legs were free from above her knee, her thighs were still quite trapped. Walking was one thing, but if she was going to actually do this, she had to be able to move. She created a long tear up the side of the gown, finding much less resistance as she ripped along the seam.
She finally looked back up at Jackson as she purposefully walked toward him again, and felt a tiny surge of pride at the impressed expression on his face. Well, what? Did he really think she was going to jump around in that vice of a gown? She bent down, picking up a glove and shoving it on her hand.
"Hold up," Jackson cut in, yanking off the glove and dropping it on the mat again. "Unless you're in the mood to break something."
Lisa laughed dryly as he pulled a roll of fabric from his pocket. "Just your face," she teased, but she still held out her hand obediently, watching as he quickly wrapped it up and trying to ignore the small jolts of electricity when his fingers brushed her skin. "You do this a lot," she remarked as he wrapped the other. It amused her, actually. She couldn't picture Jackson in a boxing ring- he seemed more suited to one of those stack gyms.
"Mhm," came the simply reply as Jackson held out a glove, gripping her elbow and helping her push in firmly. "Let me know if it's too tight."
Lisa stepped back when he had finished, punching her own fists together in amusement. She probably looked comical, but regardless, she felt incredible. The wraps held her hands in tight fists, and she just felt ready to kick some ass.
"Wait," she called out as Jackson knelt down to grab the other pair of gloves, his hands already wrapped. "Take off your shoes," she demanded, pointing at his feet. If she was going barefoot, so was he.
"Yes ma'am," he replied as he obeyed, and Lisa smiled again when she heard a hint of the drawl in his voice. He handed the gloves off to Lisa and vaulted over the ropes.
"Why do you hide your accent?" she asked, watching him quickly put his own gloves on. She backed off instinctively as he approached, holding her hands up defensively. She had just realized that there had been no mention of him hitting her, but it hardly seemed fair to demand that only she was allowed to make the hits. It wasn't as though she actually thought he was about to haul off and deck her or something, but it seemed ill-advised to let her guard down regardless.
Jackson shook his head casually, grinning as he jumped in the air a few times, obviously getting ready. "It's an identifier," he replied, pressing his gloves up against hers and pushing back firmly. "Are you going to just stand there?"
"No," Lisa snapped, caught off-guard and falling back against the ropes. She steadied herself, putting her hands up again. She didn't want to ask, but she really had no idea what she was supposed to do. Was she just supposed to start swinging away, or what?
"Good," Jackson replied. He shoved her again, but this time, Lisa was ready and only stepped back once. "Move your feet," he ordered, beginning to move around her.
Lisa mimicked his circling dance. She had seen boxing in movies, but she hadn't realized how tiring it actually was- were they really going to keep moving like this the entire time? She kept her hands up, hesitant to take the first swing- it felt vulnerable.
"Are you close with your family, or did they kick you out?" she asked, crying out in surprise when Jackson took a swing, knocking her hands away from her face.
"Why do you keep asking questions about my family?" he demanded, an irritated glint in his eye as he advanced on her. Lisa set her jaw, swinging her fist at his face.
"Because you're interesting," she snapped, frustrated when he easily blocked the hit. He didn't really have the right to get angry at her when he had freely answered her questions the other night. She swung again, stepping closer. "You're a killer."
"And what does that have to do with my family?" he countered, blocking the hit and shoving her back, definitely trying to get a rise out of her.
"Eve said the Rippners are too refined to have an assassin," Lisa replied with a grin, punching at Jackson rapidly. The contact of the hits gave her such a rush, even if she was only making contact with his gloves. "Makes me wonder if they disowned you is all."
"Eve Gansevoort?" Jackson asked, chuckling darkly at Lisa's obvious surprise. But really, she shouldn't have been surprised- she was already fairly sure the two had known each other in some capacity as kids. Maybe she was more surprised that he willingly answered the unasked question. "Well, what about you? Are the Reiserts enjoying their famous little girl with her fairy tale prince?"
"They are, actually," Lisa replied, feeling her face flush as the intensity of her attacks increased. She wasn't even that determined to break through his blocks. She could tell he was starting to work to counter her, and that was enough for the time being. Oh yes, they were so proud- her mother was more proud of the engagement than Lisa temporarily saving Keefe's life.
"It's a lot of pressure, isn't it?" he asked, whirling away from Lisa when she managed to graze his shoulder. Lisa bit down on her lip and swung with more force, hitting Jackson's shoulder blade as he moved.
"Yes," she snapped without thinking, furrowing her brow. "Can't even hint at doubts," she continued, every few words punctuated by her hits against Jackson's gloves, "or I'm crazy, right? Who wouldn't want this?" She swung hard with a short grunt, barely noticing when she actually clipped Jackson's jaw as he threw his head back in a dodge. "Fine, maybe I am."
Jackson said nothing, stepping back as Lisa actually began advancing. She didn't know if he was letting her have the edge or if she was that worked up, but she was definitely making him defend himself now.
"Hell, maybe you can relate," she snapped, laughing dryly. Now she was really on a roll, and the words were tumbling from her mouth faster than she could filter them. "Maybe you can explain it. How can someone be so arrogant?" she asked, continuing without waiting for a response. "You should see the way he treats Kate. She went to Vassar and has a degree in politics and an MBA, and he still gives her the most basic, demeaning jobs to do. Getting coffee and food, handling his schedule, and she could do so much more, but because she has no connections, he would only hire her as an assistant and she just does everything he asks and hopes he'll give her a good reference later."
"I was a junior associate at a full service firm straight out of school," Jackson replied as evenly as he could while dodging her attacks, "and within five years, they offered me partner, when it takes most people at least seven," he continued, his face hard. "But I had a good name- my mother was a DA and my aunt's an AG." He locked gloves with Lisa, pulling her close, and his eyes bore into hers. "Connections are everything. If you don't have them, you're nothing to someone who does. Does that answer your question?"
Lisa hesitated for a moment, trying to take in everything he had just told her. Jackson used to be a lawyer? Of all the careers he could have had, he was a goddamn legal expert? The irony... But she didn't comment on it- what could she do? Ask questions? She didn't even really care at the moment anyway- she was more focused on the last part of his statement.
"So what?" she spat, breaking from Jackson's hold and swinging at him again. "If Kate was a Rippner, she would be a politician's aide or a respected in business already?" And you think that's okay?
She gasped as Jackson connected with her fist, blocking her hit and actually knocking her arm away with a hit of his own. He had actually struck her. It didn't hurt- hell, in her rush of adrenaline, she didn't even feel it, really- it was the principle. Jackson had been blocking her hits and he had pushed her a few times, but he had been careful not to go so far as to hit her. She had actually pushed him into an offensive defense.
Fueled by this new thrill caused by feeling so...formidable, Lisa launched at the man, distracting him with her right arm and then throwing out a left hook. Jackson grunted when Lisa made contact with his jaw again. He didn't miss a beat, though- she was fast, but she wasn't that strong, and he swiftly locked their arms again, pushing her to the mat.
Jackson wiped at his brow with his forearm, watching the fallen woman quickly get to her feet again. Normally, he never resorted to shoving, but he had seen the obvious thrilled shock on her face when he did so the first time, and knew it was an easy way to keep provoking her.
It fascinated him to see how much she enjoyed it on some level. He doubted she was some kind of masochist, getting off on his abuse. It was more than that. He could virtually see her confidence increasing as they moved across the mat.
It was a damned cliché, but Jesus, she had never been more beautiful. If that torn dress wasn't enough, with the bare feet and her hair coming loose from its chignon, her flushed cheeks, heaving chest, and slightly open-mouthed light pants, she was some kind of exotic- and erotic- wild animal.
"I didn't know you were allowed to push," Lisa announced with a grin, running at him. Jackson chuckled, sidestepping and blocking her hits again. She didn't even seem to be aiming for his body most of the time, which was curious. He had thought she would relish the opportunity to really get at him, but with the exception of a few well-placed hits, she was still mostly attacking his hands.
"You are correct," he admitted, watching her somewhat clumsy swings and thinking to himself that it was something of a shame that none of this was real. He was starting to honestly enjoy himself a bit, and it might actually be fun to really teach her some techniques sometime. She was definitely athletic, and she was graceful enough, but just as obviously inexperienced. "I'll consider it my warning."
"So, is this your typical date night?" Lisa asked, her voice getting more ragged with effort, and Jackson chuckled, shaking his head. He hadn't had a 'date night' in years- there wasn't a point to it. But God knew that if he let on that particular bit of information, she would latch onto it and start interrogating him again, and frankly, he was already tired of answering questions about himself.
"There weren't any good movies out," he replied flatly, and Lisa heard the deflection in his voice. It was surprising that he bothered, because she thought it was easy to tell that it was a joke. Obviously they weren't on a damn date- most dates didn't include assault of either party. At least, none that she had been on.
But now that she knew he had taken it seriously, she was starting to pick up his act. When he didn't want to answer a question, he gave a half-answer, something definitely dry, usually a trace of a joke. But sometimes, he threw out a complete subject change, like when he had deflected her question about the Rippners by asking about her own parents. She had a feeling that it was relative to his degree of reluctance to discuss the subject, mostly because she knew that she did it herself. Maybe they had some similarities. Or maybe it was yet another line of bullshit, like their first few minutes together.
She was still strangely curious, but he was becoming less and less accommodating toward her questions. "Alright," she began, stepping back to lean against the ropes. She had burned off her initial frustration, and was now just getting tired. "You're obviously doing all this for a reason, and I don't know what it is," she continued, wiping the sweat from her brow. "And I don't really care," she finished, surprising herself. Partially because she had said it out loud, but mostly because it was true. Yes, she was intrigued, but really, she was tired of obsessing about it.
"So I've lost your interest?" Jackson replied dryly, leaning against the ropes next to her as he tore off one strap of his gloves with his teeth. "Shame."
Lisa scoffed, imitating his movements. She felt a hollow victory at the fact that he didn't deny that he was up to something. "I don't think I'm qualified to really study you," she remarked just as flatly, letting her gloves fall to the floor. "I'd need a PhD for that one."
"I already told you, I'm not insane," Jackson countered, vaulting over the ropes and landing on the floor below with impressive athleticism.
"Oh yeah?" Lisa asked, her voice coming out with a hint of condescension as she turned around, bracing herself on the ropes with her forearms. She watched him reach for his Henley and smirked. "Then what are you?"
Jackson tossed the shirt aside and jumped up onto the outer edge again, leaning against the ropes and causing their bodies to press firmly together again. "Much more dangerous," he replied, his voice steady again. "Because I know exactly what I'm doing."
Lisa inhaled sharply at the close proximity, but refused to take a step back. She was so done being intimidated by him. She honestly had no idea how to respond to what he had said, though. She was tempted to mock such a cheesy line along with the physical invasion of her space, an obvious attempt to make her nervous, but something in his even voice and hard gaze told her that he wasn't trying to scare her. She just didn't know what he was trying to do.
"How about we cut the shit?" he asked, but it wasn't even a suggestion, let alone a question. "Do you want to know what I was hired to do, or not?"
Lisa hesitated as Jackson reached for one of her hands. Even though she had just said that she didn't really care, and had genuinely thought it was true, of course she wanted to know.
She did want to know. But the fact of the matter was that she couldn't trust him. If he told her the truth, it was for a reason- either there was some plan involving her, which meant that if Jackson was revealing it, it was time to play her part and there was little to nothing she could do to stop it. And that was if he told the truth- he could just as easily give her a complete lie to throw her off.
On the other hand, it couldn't really hurt to see what he said, could it? She would just have to remind herself to take it with a grain of salt for the time being. Take a risk, see what happened, and then continue with her plan. "Why not?" she replied casually, giving him a wry smile. "I can trust you, right? When have you ever lied to me?"
Jackson shrugged subtly, his fingers grazing her palm. "Twice," he replied, dropping the wrap near her gloves. He lifted his gaze to meet her eyes, and Lisa noticed that he was still holding her hand. "Unless you count sarcasm."
Lisa nodded, unphased. Her years of management had forced her to develop quite the memory, and she recalled Jackson's words on the plane as vividly as if he had just spoken them. He didn't lie, and why? Not because he was inherently honest, but because it didn't serve him. That didn't make him special in any way. If the truth was required to finish a job, then the truth would come out. If he had to lie to get what he wanted, he would do so.
And this confession, when he could just as easily have said 'never', spoke volumes to her. He was admitting to lies at a risk to himself, because the honesty would make it more likely that she would believe whatever came out of his mouth next. Now it was just a question as to whether or not the next words were also lies, truths, or some combination thereof.
"You told me when there was no way to stop you," Lisa countered, her voice steady despite the vulnerability she was still feeling. She was still playing a game with Jackson, but this was much more devious- and dangerous- than their previous exchanges. If she submitted completely, he would get suspicious. She had to play the slightly clueless girl, arguing with everything he said. "And there's no way I can trust anything you say."
Jackson laughed softly, dropping her hand and moving to the other. "I think you just like to argue," he replied. "But if you don't want to know, that's fine," he continued, unwrapping the hand. Lisa chewed her lower lip, letting her defenses lower to succomb slightly to the seductive soothing in his fingertips. It was all part of the plan, and she was finding it almost sickeningly easy to allow herself to submit to the electricity between them rather than fight it.
"What were the two lies?" she asked, her voice now betraying that vulnerability. She felt her heart beating in her throat, but she wasn't sure if it was because of those traces of lust flowing lazily in her veins, or the adrenaline rush coming from this attempt to play him. She was letting him believe that she was that little mouse, that his abrupt rescinding of his offer only piqued her curiosity. She was letting him think that she taking his obvious bait.
"I've only flown coach three times in my life," he replied, letting the wrap fall with its partner, "and Jackson is my middle name, but I do use it just as often as my first, so that was only a half-lie, in reality. And no, I'm not going to tell you what it really is."
"Has anyone ever told you that you have two voices?" Lisa asked, reaching forward and slowly unwrapping Jackson's hand. She smiled faintly at the confusion in his eyes, feeling a swell of pride at the fact that she had caught him off-guard again. It was too much fun. "I figured it out the other day. You have this more formal voice when you're up to something- you elaborate more, put a little more emphasis into your words- and it's fake." She chuckled softly when Jackson didn't respond, obviously unsure what to say. "I have two older brothers and they're really good at poker."
Lisa didn't need elaboration on his last point. Maybe a few years ago, she would have, but now, she was well aware what he was getting at. He was named after his father, a junior, third, fourth, whatever, and like so many people in his set, he chose to go by his middle name rather than his first. And he wouldn't tell her because it would lead her straight to his father.
"Is your father also an expert swordsman who taught you well?" he finally replied with heavy mocking, pulling from Lisa's grip to place his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. Lisa briefly debated pointing out that he hadn't denied her point or even addressed it, choosing instead to further invade her space and practically confirming that he just wasn't as convincing as he thought, but Jackson continued speaking. "I offered to tell you because I'm getting tired of watching you obsess about my motivations- it's getting dull."
Lisa hadn't picked up her search for Jackson's family after that first morning. Instead, she had spent the last two days really thinking, obsessing as Jackson had said, and she was sure she had put it all together. The only uncertainty in her conclusions came from her source material- the man in front of her. Their two meetings in the last week had served to remind her that he was not an impermeable machine- he was a man. And while it seemed more irritating at first, it explained so much now, because it helped her to fully piece together the events on the red eye.
Jackson had said it himself- if it had been personal, things would have ended differently. As in, they would have been getting Starbucks under different circumstances. He had feelings for her. She had ignored the voice in her head arguing that she needed an ego check when this idea had occurred to her. It made sense. That was why he had practically pushed her out of the way during that confrontation with the obnoxious passenger. There was no professional reason for him to do so. He was defending her because he cared. That was why he had invited her for a drink, why her lies had infuriated him so much, and probably why he had followed her to her father's house and then not killed her.
Lisa didn't need an ego check. On the contrary, she found it incredibly hard to believe that Jackson wouldn't have easily killed her if he had really wanted to. Or if his betrayal hadn't been strong enough to cloud his judgement. He was a professional killer, and she wasn't. It should have been simple, methodical, and heartless, but there was so much anger and passion in those blue eyes that morning.
But those weren't the points Lisa really focused on. The moment that stood out to her the most was when the advantage had shifted, when she had caught Jackson completely off his guard. Her confession. His voice had come across patronizing, but she had his complete attention, and probably sympathy. In that moment, he had been completely vulnerable, his feelings for her leaving him unprotected.
She needed to recreate that moment, hold tightly to it, and finish what they both had started. She needed to get him to fall for her again, because that was the only way she could think to throw him off his plans- bring in emotion where it wasn't welcome.
"Alright," she said, matching his firm tone as she pulled away to unwrap his other hand. She bit back another smile wondering if her fingers on his palm were having that same effect. "Since you're just bursting to tell me, go for it- what are you up to?" He could berate her all he wanted now- it just bounced right off, as though she had grown a set of invisible armor against his words.
"Give me a moment," Jackson replied dryly, "I want to get his words exactly right. 'Show that low class tramp how out of her league she really is'. A bit over-the-top, I thought, but that's the governor's style. The man thinks he lives in a 40's caper film."
"I was going to say…" Lisa trailed off, trying desperately to remain casual, to not show Jackson how angry those words were making her, "...does he call you his goons, too?" She might not care what Jackson said to or about her, but Wellmont? It was a soft spot, to put it mildly. A thousand honest responses danced on her tongue, and she didn't even know where to start. "Last I checked, though, breaking up an engagement wasn't in a political advisor's job description." She wasn't sure if she was accusing Jackson of lying, or asking why he would even be asked such a thing.
"We provide some alternative services as well," Jackson replied, and Lisa could see how closely her reaction was being scrutinized.
"Like killing," she offered, still unwilling to show her betrayal. So Wellmont had actually hired Jackson's team to break up her relationship with Brad? "So you were sent to seduce me?"
Jackson scoffed, moving to the side and holding out a hand to help Lisa maneuver through the ropes. "That's cheap," he replied, almost sounding insulted. "Seduction is so inefficient, Lisa- want to know why?" He leaned forward, a dark glint in his eyes. "It's too easy to fall for your own bullshit."
Lisa unconsciously tightened her grip on his hand. He knows. He knows already. But that was ridiculous- she hadn't even made a move. How could he possibly know what she was up to? There was no way in hell he could know her plan unless he was an actual psychic, but regardless of how asinine the idea was, Lisa could swear that she was being warned.
Jackson blinked slowly, and his eyes were clear again, almost playful. "Not to mention a honeytrap is useless without any proof- no, I haven't been recording anything," he continued, interrupting when Lisa opened her mouth. "Give me a little credit. That was just something that felt right at the time."
Lisa rolled her eyes, tugging on Jackson's hand so he lost his balance and had to jump to the floor below. She quickly followed, leaning through the ropes again to grab the jacket. "You must think I'm a complete idiot," she snapped, sitting down at an elliptical machine as she watched him gather up the gloves and wrap. "One, if Wellmont didn't want us together, he wouldn't have given us his bless-"
"He probably gave it because Brad wasn't backing down," Jackson replied flatly, disappearing into the locker room. Lisa stared at her bare feet, frowning slightly. Brad did love her. It was a strange way to confirm it, but if Brad really refused to break up with her… "But that's my guess- the assignment was given during a meeting, not a slumber party." Thanks.
"But two, even if it's true, do you really think you can somehow convince me to leave him when I know that's exactly what you're up to?" she asked quickly, avoiding getting caught up in what the motivations behind the job were. She had her head wrapped mostly around what to do with Jackson, yes, but this new information was piling onto the rest of the Brad mess. Hell, she had considered leaving Brad a little over an hour ago, and that had nothing to do with what Jackson was doing- and if it was, she definitely couldn't see where his involvement could be.
"Well, as I said, I was tired of watching you try to figure everything out. And as I also said, I know what I'm doing. Just because you know doesn't mean I can't pull it off," Jackson informed her, tossing her heels near her feet as he pulled on his Henley again.
"But you know there's no way I'm going to keep talking to you after this, right?" Lisa asked defiantly as she pulled on her shoes. It was a lie- of course she was going to keep talking to him.
"Bullshit," Jackson snapped as he threw the jacket at her, apparently reading her mind again. "You obviously want to put me in prison where I belong, but to do that, you need to know who I really am, right? Let me guess-" he continued quickly, not giving Lisa a chance to respond, "-you've spent a few hours since the last time we talked trying to find out who my family is, and when you find them, you plan on going to the cops- no, the press." He grinned at Lisa's paling cheeks and abruptly turned, heading for the door. "It's not difficult to guess, Lisa," he continued as Lisa caught up to him. "You're too smart to think you can just go to the authorities and tell them you've found me. And if we covered it up once, we can- and will- do it again, so the cops are a waste of time."
Lisa nodded as she yanked his jacket over her arms, not bothering to deny it. Of course she knew that she needed the whole picture- or at least a better grasp of the players- in order to take him down. And strangely, it didn't seem to bother him that she had been attempting to do so. Was he telling her that he was going to help her figure it out? What was his game this time? All she could do was remain silent, waiting for the bait that she knew was coming.
"Here's how I see it- I could easily do this job," Jackson informed her as he held the door open for her. "You're halfway out the door already, correct?" Lisa just watched him move around the car, sliding into the driver's seat. She was completely thrown by how blunt and downright out of the blue this was. She couldn't even think, really- only listen. "So...since these simple jobs are getting boring, I figured I'd give myself a challenge and run a little experiment." He grinned, not even looking at Lisa. "Can I get the job done with you knowing that it's on, or will you convince yourself to stay in this engagement purely to spite me?"
Lisa chuckled, reaching out to grab Jackson's jaw in one hand, wrapping the other around his keys, preventing him from turning on the car. It was definitely on. "You seem awfully confident that I won't want to stay with him because I love him," she replied, surrendering to the lust now coursing wildly through her veins. It thrilled her even more to be using this sexual energy to her own advantage, the adrenaline of passion blending with the darker traces of power. She was in control this time.
"How do you know you're not just something to do?" she asked, sliding across the car to straddle Jackson's thighs, and sealing her words with a hard kiss. She was fully aware of the connotations of her words. And she knew they were coming across as genuine, because they were honest. Yes, she had her motivations for allowing herself to behave this way, but this time, it had nothing to do with her deteriorating relationship. It had nothing to do with anyone else.
It was just Lisa and Jackson, playing a mutual game of manipulation and deceit.