Chap 9:
Jackson watched the businessman with a careful eye. The man was trying to look confidant, but there was something about the way he was constantly shifting his gaze, taping his fingers against his leg, and the way he fumbled with his PDA. He must have been a newbie, someone just learning the trade. So why was he watching for Emma? Sure it was three years later, but between him and her secrets, they should have kept at least a moderately experienced surveillance on the house. At least that's what he would have done if he was still manager.
He missed his position, the clarity of fact, and ease. The mental challenge, and the predictability. All these emotions he was dealing with were too much unlike him. They were confusing and messy, not clean and clear like he needed. They didn't fit into a mold or formula, and he didn't know how to handle them You need to focus he told himself. Get away from here, and get back to what you do best. But first, First he had to make sure that Emma was okay. Jackson cursed himself before forcing eye contact with the businessman. Jackson glanced away almost immediately, looking around everywhere but him as if he was trying not to be seen as watching the businessman. This businessman was a novice, and would follow a novice protocol. He began moving towards a dark ally and Jackson couldn't help but smirk. So predictable, he thought to himself.
Jackson followed towards an alley, acting as if he had no idea that the businessman had disappeared around the corner. Was he really that stupid? Jackson asked himself. Sure enough, as Jackson passed the alley's entrance the businessman lurched forward, pulling Jackson into the darkness. Jackson feigned being shocked as the man put him in a rear-chokehold wrapping his arm tight around his neck. Jackson even played the idiot, pulling the arm down, while lifting his chin. One thing he learned through his own experience is that people are willing to say more when they think they have the power.
"Who are you?" the man ordered in Jackson's ear. "Why are you watching me?" The man's voice may have sounded confident, but he was shaking, and his grip wasn't nearly as strong as it should have been. Jackson pretended to gasp as he pulled against the man's arm.
"Answer me!" he ordered starting to sound desperate. "Did Jackson send you?" So that was it Jackson thought to himself. He had been assigned to watch for Jackson, but clearly wasn't given a clear picture. His lack of a shave would only keep him hidden from a distant, but this was different. It would seem as if he was placed there for Jackson's distraction, a red herring. In other words, this man would know nothing.
Jackson couldn't stop the rage that building inside him. The last few minutes of his life had been a waist. His mind wasn't thinking clearly, his world was collapsing around him, and they had sent this idiot for him. It was insulting. Jackson moved without thinking, dropping one of his hands to grab the knife at his belt. He pulled it out and stabbed the blade into the businessman's leg.
The man let out an initial gasp of pain, but he was muffled by his own shock. Jackson moved quickly in a fluid motion, twisting the blade in the man's leg as he pushed up on the arm freeing himself from the poor chokehold. Jackson yanked out the blade and watched as the man crumbled to the floor. The man grasped his leg where blood was flowing as he tried to comprehend what had happened. Had Jackson been himself at the moment he might have realized that the man didn't even reach for his gun as Jackson kicked him in the side, before bending down and pulling him up into a sitting position by his blazer.
"Who sent you? What do they want with Emma?" Jackson ordered with harsh whisper only inches from the man's ear.
"I don't know!" the man mumbled stumbling over his words. "They. They just said to wait, and that Jack…Jackson would know who it was. He would understand! Just please let me go! I thought you were someone else, I didn't know!." His babbling wasn't helping Jackson any so he drove his fist into the man's gut causing a loud groan of pain.
"Tell me everything!" he ordered.
"I don't know anything I swear! The man insisted, but Jackson didn't stop as he punched him again, and again, and again. The man still didn't answer, only crying from the pain, but Jackson didn't care. The part of his brain that was usually in control was gone as he hit and hit and hit the man again with full force, not stopping even once the man fell limp.
When Jackson finally stopped, it felt as if hours had gone by. He was exhausted and empty as he pulled away from the body resting against the brick siding of some building. His arms and jacket were covered in blood, and the site of it sent him to shakes. What is happening to me? Jackson thought as he tried to catch his breath, feeling like his chest was caving in. Was this a panic attack? Is this what they felt like?" he thought to himself with disgust. It had been so long since he had them, his last attack being the night before he removed his parents from his life. The thoughts soon followed after, feeling of disgust and uselessness. He was stupid, alone, insignificant, invisible, unimportant. The words floated through his mind in incoherent strings but he couldn't listen to them. He had spent so many years erasing the dark sides of his mind and yet he snapped.
He had been careless, too messy of an attack with too much aggression and rage. The man, no…he thought, the body, was a mess, deformed and destroyed. He had covered himself with evidence, and any moment now, some innocent traveler could walk past them and see the two of them there. He had to do something about the body, move it hide it, get himself cleaned up, or do something, but he couldn't think straight.
One step at a time, he told himself recalling how he had overcome these attacks in the past. He had to hide the body. Get it out of site, loose the bloodied jacket, and clean up the blood on him. Then he would wait till Eric left the house, and see if there was anything in there for him.
Gathering whatever strength he could from years of practice and muscle memory, Jackson quickly got to work.