Chapter Fifteen

Saturday morning found Lisa in the kitchen in some kind of Martha Stewart mockery. She was standing at the island in the middle of the kitchen, flour on her cheek, and stirring a bowl of brownie batter. As she slowly mixed the batter, she reflected on that mornings events.

It had progressed normally, for them at least, until Jackson has received a call on his cell phone. The first one that Lisa had been aware of, or, at least, it was the first that was conducted in her presence. It wasn't a very long conversation, but it was long enough to set the tone for the day. After hanging up with one of his...acquaintances he had gone upstairs and had come back down dressed in a suit. She couldn't stop herself from asking what was going on, he had snapped saying that it was none of her business but that he was leaving the house for a few hours. He delighted in telling her that there was no way for her to escape and then proceeded to give her a laundry list of things to do, including baking the accursed brownies that she was in the middle of.

Having already debated the pros and cons of lacing them with some sort of cleaner, preferably something with bleach in it. The only reason she wasn't currently baking poisoned pastries was because of the fact that, if he survived such an attack, she probably wouldn't have made it through his retribution. She highly doubted that she could escape with her life if she made a second failed attempt on his life.

So, after he left, in what she definitely classified as a huff, she started work on the brownies (unfortunately free of any additives). She figured that while they were baking she could get some of the other, light, cleaning done. Mostly dusting, since it would take less time, while she waited for the brownies to cool before applying the frosting.

Yes, he specifically requested strawberry frosting on his beloved brownies. And damned if she wasn't going to spit in it first. Far less undetectable than bleach of any kind.

After she made sure there were no undue bumps or dry batter on the sides of the bowls, she poured it into the large rectangle pan that she has already prepared and place it into the heated over, carefully trying to avoid snaring herself on the heated metal. Unfortunately, her efforts were in vain because as she placed the pan securely on the shelf, her oven mitt slipped and the inside of her wrist landed squarely on the metal rack. She let out a small scream as she launched herself backwards, somehow managing to close the oven door in the process.

Lisa raced to the sink, cradling her burning skin to her chest. Yanking the handle on the sink, cold water exploded out of the faucet, she wasted no time and thrust her wrist under the water, hissing as it made contact.

While the water was cooling the burn, Lisa rested her head in her other hand trying desperately not to give way to tears; her defenses decidedly low since that phone call to her father.

"This figures," she hissed through clenched teeth.

Ten minutes and much redder skin later, Lisa was on her way upstairs to change her outfit considering that she had splashed a substantial amount of water on herself in her bid to soak her wrist. Granted, Jackson probably wouldn't have cared about the clinging quality of her outfit, but she was loath to walk around the house dripping wet, whether or not it was in her 'approved outfit of the day'.

Lisa attempted not to stomp on her way to the room, but it didn't stop her from nearly ripping the door off its hinges in her anger and frustration, not to mention more than a little pain. She went through the barely-there...things (they were not clothing of any kind) that he had bought for her.

Towards the bottom of the drawer she spotted what looked like a tee shirt, clingy yes, but far more descent than ninety-nine percent of what else was in there. She also took out another pair of jeans, the water on her shirt having dripped and now covered her waist and it also looked like a good portion of her thighs had been splashed, too.

It didn't take long for her to change, though it did take her a while as she debated with herself whether or not she should put back on the hooker shoes that she had been wearing before. In the end, she did put them back on because she knew that she'd probably be cleaning when he came back and if he didn't spot the shoes on her feet he'd probably spank her, or something equally degrading, as punishment.

The thought crossed her mind, as she made her way from her room, that it would be easier if she had a watch on. That way, she would know how long the brownies had stayed in the oven because she wasn't sure how long they would take to back, seeing as how every oven was different if one wasn't accustomed to it. And accustomed was something she was not. She received her answer, however, when she was at the top of the stairs. The distinct spell of something burning was wafting from the kitchen, along with a little bit of smoke. Clearly the oven packed a little more of a punch than she originally thought.

Crap, Lisa thought as she hurried down the stairs.

She heard a snap as she stepped on a stairs what was a good three-fourths from the bottom. It didn't take long for her to wonder what it was, because as soon as she heard the sound her left leg suddenly lurched forward and she slammed into the wall. Try as she might to stop her downward progress, she couldn't and she fell head over heel.

Her knees, hip, shoulder, and head hit the remaining steps over and over until, finally, she came to rest in a heap on the floor. Her left leg was bent at an awkward angle and she knew something, if not a few things, had to be broken. She was in far too much pain for there not to be substantial damage. Head throbbing, her gaze came to rest on the red heel of her shoe that had come gently rolling down the stairs. The plastic had snapped cleanly off.

For the first time, as she lay there, she prayed to see Jackson soon as blood slowly oozed down her face and started to pool in her eye socket. Lisa not having nearly enough energy to lift a hand and try to scoop it away.

It didn't matter, though, her eyes slowly closing as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Yes, I know it has been an incredibly long time. Something around five months as one reader pointed out. So to all of you I have a very big...I'M SORRY! It's been a crazy mix of stress, family issues, busy schedules, and of course, good ole writers block. A lot of writer's block actually. However, I seem to have gotten over that as the idea for this chapter practically bit me in the butt. I really am very sorry, please don't hate me. You'll all be happy to know that I have a very clear idea for the next chapter and their relationship dynamic will be starting to change.

Please, please REVIEW...even though I probably don't deserve it. But it would still be nice. And I will hopefully have an update for you soon. Maybe by the end of the week, if not sooner.

I also want to extend a very big THANK YOU to everyone that has stuck with this story! It really, truly means a lot to me, so thank you.