Title: The Good Life
Author: Kaikamahine Mai Hawai'i
Disclaimer: I own nothing. My life would be so much cooler if I did, though. Well, okay, the plot is mine.
Summary: Life was falling back into place. But when events unintentionally set in motion are triggered, their lives go in directions neither imagined. Set to the theme of Good Life by Audio A. Post-Red Eye.
Pairing: Jackson/Lisa
Rating: M for language and eventually adult-themed situations
Postings: None as of yet. I don't object to you posting my story on any Red Eye fanfic sites, provided that you inform me first and ask my permission. In turn, I can advertise your site :)

Chapter 1

Lisa Reisert fumbled with her keys as she attempted to unlock her front door. Finally finding the right key, she inserted it into the lock and turned the knob, feeling the cool air rushing past her arms.

She set her purse on one of the chairs around the kitchen island, then released the plastic Kroger bags, letting them fall to the floor. The blinking red light on her phone showed her she had missed a call or two while she was out. She hit the play button on the answering machine and began to put away her groceries as the messages played.

"Hey Leese, this is Cynthia. Um, we're having an unexpected situation here. Apparently, one of the day managers took a reservation for a wedding reception that's going to be held here on Friday, and didn't write down any of the rooms. The father of the groom called to verify the booking and we don't have anything listed in our system for it. I called around to the day managers and Eddie said he was the one that took the reservation and says he's sorry, he just slipped up, what with him and his wife just having their little girl-"

Lisa rolled her eyes as she put the milk away. Cynthia had a way of putting herself into a long-spun tale of run-on sentences and tangents.

"-that everything should be okay as long as you can put in your code later on tonight and access the Crisis Folder and clear about five rooms, that is, if the Holmann party doesn't leave early. If they're gone, we should be able to free up a couple of rooms by then. Okay, well, see you when you get in. Bye!"

She pulled a popsicle out of the freezer and grabbed her latest Dr. Phil book from the last remaining Kroger bag as the next message kicked in.

"Hey Lisa. It's dad. I just saw an article in the newspaper about a golf tournament going on this weekend in Orlando. Me and some of the guys here at the end of the street are talking about going. Nothing's finalized yet, but if we do decide to go, you've got my cell phone number and I've got yours. I'll give you a call Friday night and let you know one way or the other. Alright, well, just wanted to call and let you know. Have a good day, baby. Love you."

Lisa sighed as she sat down on her couch and flipped on the TV to Cartoon Network. Her popsicle was starting to melt all over her fingers. "Damn!" She quickly moved her dripping popsicle over her bare knees to keep any of the colored liquid from getting on her skirt, and in the process, knocked the remote off the arm of the couch. It banged to the ground, changing the station to the local news channel.

"-orities say that Jackson Rippner escaped from the Miami-Dade hospital this morning between the hours of 1:00 a.m. and 3:30 a.m. Hospital staff say Mr. Rippner was apparently in stable condition after numerous surgeries to repair multiple gunshot and stab wounds after Lux Atlantic Hotel manager Lisa Reisert responded in what she claims was self-defense. Miss Reisert had been on an overnight flight from Texas to Miami and during the flight, Mr. Rippner allegedly threatened Miss Reisert. The police report said that, according to Miss Reisert, Mr. Rippner claimed he had a hit man stationed outside of her father's house in Miami, threatening to kill him if she didn't cooperate. And, as you may remember, Local 5 was on the scene shortly after the explosion at the Lux Atlantic Hotel, which was part of an assassination attempt on politician Charles Keefe. Mr. Rippner was allegedly the mastermind behind the attack against Mr. Keefe and his family, and had been in the hospital for the past eleven months, undergoing reparative surgeries, which had been hampered by numerous infections. Mr. Rippner's court hearing was set to take place next month, where prosecutors planned to charge him with assault, battery, burglary, entrapment, larceny, and murder one and two, among other charges. Authorities would like to remind our viewers at home: do not attempt to apprehend Mr. Rippner. He's considered very dangerous and possibly armed, but not much is known at this time. However, if anyone spots Mr. Rippner, you can call 9-1-1 or your local police department. That's it for reporter Alejandra Vargas for Local 5 News, now back to the studio. Rich?"

"Thanks for that update, Alejandra. Now, the authorities want to remind us again: Jackson Rippner is a very dangerous individual. If you spot him, call local authorities or 9-1-1, do not attempt to apprehend him yourself. This is Rich McColluch for Local 5, we'll see you tonight at 11. Good afternoon."

Lisa sat stock-still on the couch, her popsicle dripping all over her knees. She had been trying to piece her life back together after the events on the red eye flight nearly a year ago. She had made preparations if anything were to happen: mace on her keychain, another can in her purse, another in her car, numerous others in various areas of her house. Self-defense classes at the women's center in the strip mall down the road from the hotel. The field hockey stick next to her bed. The locks on the windows and doors. 9-1-1 on speed-dial. But that all meant shit if she wasn't prepared mentally.

"LISA!" Lisa jumped as she heard the shout from the kitchen. "LISA! PICK UP THE PHONE! IF YOU'RE HOME, PICK UP THE DAMN PHONE, LISA!" She realized she had missed the first few rings and the voice on the other end of the line was being broadcast through her answering machine. With a quick start, she rushed into the kitchen and yanked the phone off the wall.

"Daddy?"

"Lisa! Did you see the news? Were you watching Channel 5?"

"Yes, dad. I ..." She felt a lump form in her throat.

"Lisa, listen to me. Go lock all of your windows and doors NOW. Check every last latch and lock. I'll be over in about fifteen minutes to make sure the inside of your house is clear, okay? Don't open the door for anybody else until I get there, okay? Are you listening to me, sweetheart? Lisa? Are you okay?" Lisa tried to swallow the lump. "Lisa?"

"I'm fine, daddy. I just-" She swallowed the lump and cleared her throat. "Stay there, dad. Don't worry about me. I can handle myself, now. I'm a big girl, remember?"

"I don't care, Leese. This guy is dangerous, we of all people know that-"

"I know, dad, I-" She stopped, swallowing hard. "If I don't learn to take care of myself, I'll never be free of him. I took the self-defense classes, I've got mace on my keychain, I'm prepared," she lied. "I'm tired of being everyone's victim."

"Lisa, baby, I still don't think that it's a good idea for you to be there by yourself-"

"I'll be fine, dad."

"Are you sure?" There it was again. Lisa rolled her eyes and dared herself not to scream.

"Yes, dad. But, just to make you happy, I'll go around and lock every door and window in the house, okay?"

A laugh came from the other end of the line. "Alright, Lisa. But, if anything happens, Leese, if you even suspect something-"

"Call 9-1-1 or my local authorities?" She offered jokingly.

"Definitely. Alright Lisa. Go lock up. I love you."

"Love you too, dad."

"-and I can only imagine what the bridesmaids' dresses will look like."

Cynthia was chattering again. Lisa rubbed her eyes tiredly as she sat in the reception room at the Lux Atlantic. The hotel had wanted the two of them to keep an eye on the reception guests to make sure a drunken revelry didn't ensue. Wedding receptions in Miami had a way of going from calm family get-togethers to inebriated bedlam.

"Uh, miss?" Cynthia and Lisa turned to see two young men standing nervously behind them. "Hi, uhm ... would you like to dance?" The man who had spoken extended his hand to Cynthia. She laughed nervously and looked to Lisa.

"Go for it, Cynthia! Don't let me hold you back!" Lisa replied with a laugh. The second man rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Actually, I was going to see if you wanted to join?" He extended his hand to Lisa. She stared at it a moment before accepting.

"Ah ... of course. I'd love to. Why not?" The two pairs walked to the dance floor. A few upbeat songs played, followed by a slow song intermittently. After a half hour, all were working up a thirst. Cynthia's dance partner offered to go get drinks.

"Okay, who's having what?"

"Um ..." Cynthia looked shyly over at Lisa. "Why don't I go with them and help them carry the drinks?" Lisa understood the underlying tone in Cynthia's voice. Cynthia was looking for an excuse to flirt with her dance partner and figure out what Lisa's thought of her.

"No problem. You guys go over and pick out something to drink, I'll just rest my feet over here. These shoes are killing me!" The trio walked toward the bar, leaving Lisa in the middle of the crowded dance floor. A hand grabbed hers and spun her around.

"Actually, I think this is our song, Leese. Let's dance." The slightly rasped voice told her who it was before she had time to look up into the owner's face.

"Jackson." Her voice came out as a horrified whisper as Jackson wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him as the next song came on.

"Aww, Leese, I'm honored. You knew who I was before you even saw me." Lisa looked up into the ice-blue eyes and immediately wished she hadn't as chills ran down her spine. Jackson gave her a wicked grin. "I would say that I bet you weren't expecting to see me, but I happen to know for a fact that you saw that news coverage two days ago. You were dripping blue popsicle all over your lap, if memory serves." Another set of chills ran down her spine.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, stealing glances around the crowded room. It was impossible to make out any definitive faces. He squeezed her hand warningly as they swayed to the music.

"No alerting glances to any colleagues, Lisa. You're doing a good job playing along right now, don't screw it up." Lisa stole a glance at the red dot on his throat. He let out a grunting laugh and released her hand to pull his collar away, affording her a better view. "Not a big wound there. The bullet holes were a little more difficult to deal with, though," he offered acidly, pulling her back against his body as the couples around them shuffled to the song. To anyone else, Jackson and Lisa looked like any other couple on the floor, blending in with the crowd. "Don't think I'm not going to get revenge for those, either, Leese. Albeit, one of them was your father's doing." He felt her stiffen.

"What have you done to my dad?" she asked, on the verge of crying. He saw a man in the crowd glance at Lisa's distressed features. He quickly pushed her head to his shoulder.

"Don't attract any unwanted attention, Lisa. You know how I hate that." The man seemed to register Lisa as an overwhelmed wedding guest and mentally brushed it off. "Dear old dad's fine right now. Golf tournament in Orlando, remember? No one's even casing him right now, aren't I nice?"

"Oh, I'm sure. You'll be buying me a Bay Breeze at the bar and discussing middle names any second," Lisa responded coldly. She willed herself not to cry.

"Don't get mouthy. My guys aren't watching your dad right now. To tell the truth, they're keeping an eye on the soon-to-be unconscious Cynthia." Lisa immediately straightened and looked at him alarmingly. "Go schizo on me and my plans will change in a heartbeat. Calm down while I finish explaining." Lisa hesitated a second before relinquishing and laying her head back on his shoulder. "Very well played. Now. Over at the bar. Cynthia and Fuckers A and B. Your three o'clock."

Lisa looked to the bar and saw Cynthia talking wildly with her hands with the two men that had asked them to dance. They were laughing at something Cynthia said while Cynthia took another sip of champagne.

"Those two have been waiting to spike a girl's drink all night. Guess who's drink they drugged? Cynthia will be out like a light in a few minutes. My guys are keeping an eye on her to make sure Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum don't go trying anything kinky with her. Soon as she starts getting a little woozy, my guys will step in and chase them off, then take Cynthia up to one of the complimentary rooms the Lux has reserved for its employees. She'll sleep it off and will most likely wake up with a headache tomorrow. You, meanwhile ..." He paused to dip her, nearly to the floor, before bringing her back up. Lisa felt a little lightheaded as the blood rushed back out of her head. An upbeat Billy Joel song came on that Lisa slightly recognized as Jackson proceeded. "You'll call in another night manager to relieve you and Cynthia and feign a headache, and I'll be the kind dance partner who's going to offer you a ride home, which you'll accept."

"And then?" Lisa almost felt queasy at what could come next. Jackson nearly gave a coy smile.

"I guess it depends on how I play my cards and how good you are at strip poker." Lisa couldn't tell if he was joking or not. She noticed that something had suddenly caught the attention of Jackson's ever-watchful eyes and turned to see Cynthia holding her head and attempting to sit on a bar stool. "My guys are going to move in now and finish up the rest." On cue, two men dressed in business casual approached the bar. One ordered a drink while the other seemed to be concerned with the redheaded patron who wasn't looking so hot. He asked her a few questions, some she nodded to, others she shook her head. Cynthia took the man's arm while the guy ordering the drink distracted the foiled men.

"They won't hurt her?" she asked, still watching Cynthia exiting the reception area.

"Promise, Leese. And you know I keep my promises." If there was anything she knew about Jackson, it was that, oddly enough, he could be trusted. In a sick sense of the meaning of trust. "Now, your turn. Let's get you to the front desk so you can tell Arianna that you're not feeling so well."

Jackson put a hand between her shoulder blades, leading her from the dance floor and out of the reception room to the front lobby. Arianna, the tall, slender Latina behind the front desk, smiled warmly at Lisa and Jackson.

"Bustin' a move out there, eh?" Arianna asked with a slight laugh. Lisa gave a sick smile.

"Bustin' a blood vessel's more like it." She put her hand against her forehead for effect. "Head's killing me. Will you do me a favor and get Tim on the phone? I'm going to see if I can get out of here-"

"Don't worry about it Lisa, hun. I'll take care of things 'round here. Lemme call a cab for you." Arianna picked up the phone as Jackson gave Lisa a glance.

"Um, actually, Ari, I've already got a ride home. You don't have to worry about it."

"You sure, Leese?" Lisa pretended she didn't hate that question. She nodded and turned to look at Jackson. He waved politely at Arianna.

"Goodnight, miss. Ready, Lisa?" He turned a smile on her and Lisa felt a cringe working it's way through her system, but managed to compose herself.

"Of course, like I said ... head's killing me."

Lisa followed Jackson to the parking garage. Well, more like Jackson had a grip on her arm that told her she wasn't going anywhere except to where he was going. They walked up to a silver BMW with windows tinted so dark that she couldn't tell if anyone was in there or not.

"How are you planning on avoiding the police when you're driving a street illegal car?" she asked. Jackson looked at her questioningly. "Tinted car windows are illegal in the state of Florida" she explained, allowing herself the luxury of a smirk. Jackson gave her a warning look, then snatched her purse away from her. He rummaged around through the contents of the bag until he found her keychain. He held it for a moment before giving her a satisfied grin and holding it up for her to see. She looked with confusion at his face then at the keychain. He laughed at the mini mace can on her keychain before continuing on. He led her over to her car, just three rows away, unlocked the doors and opened the passenger door, looking at her expectantly.

"Getting in?" he asked, sounding somewhat impatient. Lisa held his gaze a moment longer before sliding in and reaching for her seatbelt as Jackson slammed the door closed and moved to the driver's side. In a few moments, the car was rolling out of the garage and onto the darkened streets of Miami. After a tense few minutes of awkward silence, Lisa broke the ice.

"Why now, Jackson?" she questioned, looking out at the slick streets, avoiding eye contact. Jackson glanced over at her, but wasn't rewarded with a returned glance. He looked back at the road and sighed.

"Said I might have to steal you, remember?" He pressed the accelerator to avoid a soon-to-be red light and gave a quick look-around for cops.

Lisa grumbled a laugh. "And I was the naïve one who thought it was just a mind game you were playing with me."

It was Jackson's turn to laugh, now. "Nice to know you've been thinking about our encounter. Makes me feel all warm and tingly inside."

Lisa shook her head and cracked the window a little. "That's one thing you've got right, Jackson." She looked ahead at the street. "I have been thinking about it." She blinked back tears and gave him a glance. "My life went on a downward spiral to hell starting on that night. Everything's gone from bad to worse." She sniffled and looked at her lap. "I've questioned and second-guessed every thing I do. On my way to work I wonder if I'll make it home the next day. And when I go to bed, I worry that I won't be waking up later on." Jackson took the time to look over at her as he stopped at one of the numerous stops signs dotting Lisa's subdivision. "And ever since that flight, I've wondered what I could've done differently to keep myself from-" She choked on her words and looked away.

Jackson looked at her, feeling unnerved and angry at himself. "Keep yourself from what, Leese?"

She sniffled again and looked back. "Keep myself from being used again," she muttered, staring him straight in the eyes. Jackson held her gaze, looking at her bloodshot eyes with tears slipping down her cheeks.

"We've all got to be the pawn sometime, Leese. Your time just happened to be on the that flight, that's all."

"Oh, and I'm not a pawn this time?" she spat. Jackson shrugged and turned onto her street. "When haven't I been your pawn?" Her car glided into the driveway with a slight bump and shuddered slightly as it was shifted into park and turned off. Jackson pulled the keys out and sat there for a moment, looking at the keychain in his lap.

"What were you thinking, Leese ..." he played with a trinket on the chain, "when I was pulling you up by your hair, I mean? Right before your dad shot me?" Lisa frowned and looked over at him in surprise.

"Excuse me?" Jackson glanced out the window, avoiding her gaze.

"What were you thinking, right before I was getting ready to kill you?" Lisa didn't respond, only stared at him in wonderment. "You know what I was thinking?" He finally looked over at her, his signature smirk turning into a confused smile. "I was thinking that I couldn't do it. I couldn't." He snorted and shifted his gaze towards the house before looking back over to her. "There I was, with you right where I needed you, getting ready to finish the job. And I couldn't. Even after you stabbed me with your stiletto and shot me, I- ... I just ... I couldn't."

Lisa stared at him, a whole gamut of emotions running through her. "Why, Jackson? Why couldn't you?"

He shrugged and laughed, but his heart wasn't in it. "I've been trying to find the answer to that question since the moment it happened." He shuffled the keys and looked back down at his lap again. "I think ... if your dad hadn't been there and shot me ... I probably would've just knocked you out and left." He handed the keys back to her and opened his door. "Some bad guy I've turned out to be, huh?"

Lisa felt herself getting angry at him again, felt hot tears trace down the cold tracks of their predecessors. "Why are you telling me all of this, Jackson?"

He paused and looked back at her. "You weren't always my pawn, Leese. For that split second eleven months ago ... I was yours." He laughed halfheartedly. "Like I said, we've all gotta be the pawn sometime."

Lisa slid her key into the lock and turned it, hearing the lock click open. Pulling the keys out, she turned the doorknob and opened her front door. Jackson moved in front of her, reaching into his jacket for an object Lisa didn't want to identify. Probably the KA-BAR he had threatened her with all those months ago. He stepped into the house, using his free hand to grab Lisa's arm and pull her in with him.

"Lock the door behind you, Leese." She did as he said, not wanting to argue. He peered around the house cautiously, holding whatever was in his hand out in front of him. "Take a seat in the kitchen. I'm going to have a look around. Don't turn on any lights, don't open any drawers, cupboards, nothing. Don't make a sound," he ordered quietly. Lisa had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Jackson?" she whispered.

"I'm not entirely sure we're the only ones in here right now, and until I am, you're gonna sit tight and do as I say. Understood?" Lisa pulled her bar stool back from the kitchen island quietly and sat down, not making a sound. Jackson took her silence as willingness to comply. He moved through the living room quietly, checking behind and underneath pieces of furniture, moving curtains and drapes out of the way, then proceeded through to the next room.

Lisa sat in the kitchen silently, waiting for Jackson to return. One minute turned into five, five minutes turned into ten. Ten minutes of silence caused a bored and nervous Lisa. She pulled her PDA out of her purse, turned it on, and checked through her schedule for the coming week. Manager's meetings, O'Donnells coming in on Thursday, doctor's appointment tomorrow. Wonder if he'll even let me go to it? New hire training on Monday, dinner with dad tomorrow night. Going to have to pick up a bottle of wine for that. Wait! He's out of town. Nevermind. Delete dinner with da-

A thump from upstairs caused Lisa to jump. Her heartbeat suddenly increased, beating faster and harder in her chest. She stayed as still and quiet as possible. Probably just Jackson moving something around up there. Nothing to worry about. Go back to your work schedule, Lisa, get your mind off of what could be going on. You're going to freak yourself out.

Okay. Delete dinner with dad. Am I sure I want to delete this item? Yes. Train Cynthia on the new corporate protocol for-

Another thump, followed by creaking floorboards. Thump. Something hitting the floor. Lisa glanced at the clock. He'd left her sitting there for twenty-three minutes. She wondered if it was Jackson that she'd heard hitting the floor. And if they took out Jackson ... she'd be next. An easier target. Lisa reached for her keys sitting on the countertop of the island. Go to the door, unlock it, get outside, lock it behind you. Get to the car, get in, get the hell away from here. The thought appealed to her, but then she felt a slight shudder of fear run through her.

Dead quiet from upstairs. What if she got to the door and someone was standing on the other side of it? What if Jackson was bleeding to death upstairs? What if someone else was bleeding to death upstairs? He said he was my pawn.

Lisa slid off the bar stool slowly, quietly. She looked at the cutlery set on the counter next to the toaster. She walked over to grab one of the knives. One was missing. Her heart was in her throat. She grabbed the largest knife, hearing it hiss against the wooden sheath as it slid out of its resting place. She walked to the doorway that led to her hall. A creak from upstairs. Take off your pumps, Lisa. You can run better barefoot than you can with pumps. Another creak. Someone was moving. Her heart was beating so fast that she was beginning to feel lightheaded. Her fingertips began tingling and her palms and the soles of her feet broke out in cold sweats. She moved to the foot of the stairs. The seventh step creaks, need to move to the side on that one to keep from making noise. Check the smaller rooms first. Then go to your room. There's the phone next to the bed, on the night stand. Never mind. Check the bedroom first. Get to the phone. She moved to the side, pressing herself against the wall as she reached the seventh step, feeling it begin to initiate a traitorous creak. She moved to the next step before it could make a telltale sound. Top of the steps, Leese. Look through the hallway. Any shadows moving around? No? Okay. Move yourself up against the wall. Keep yourself in the darkest areas. Less visible that way. Find Jackson.

The knife tingled in her hand. She wiped her free hand against her clothing, then transferred the knife to that hand, wiping her other hand against her dress. No sweaty palms, Lisa. Find Jackson and find out what the hell's taking so long. A quick glance at her watch. Thirty-one minutes. Her heart hammered against her ribs, threatening to beat its way out of her chest. She felt the door frame of her room slide up against her shoulder. One quick look, then back into the hallway. If the coast is clear, move in. Lisa steeled herself. She turned her head and took a quick peek. Nothing. Back into the hallway. Wait. What was that dark thing by the bed? She felt lightheaded with fear again. Her eyelids threatened to come crashing down as her vision wavered. Not gonna faint, not gonna faint. She took a deep breath, letting it out with a shudder. Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God. Another peek into the room. It was a shoe. Attached to a leg. Find the phone, find the phone!

Lisa walked slowly, carefully into the room. She made her way to the bed, watching the shoe for the slightest movement. The shoe became a leg, became a hip, became ... an unconscious blonde man. Blood seeped from the side of his head. Turn around and get the phone Lisa. Now!

She turned, slamming into a dark-haired man with anger flashing across what she could see of his face. One faint, final beat of her exhausted heart before it went dead quiet. She had the fleeting feeling of her ears burning with heat while the rest of her body turned ice cold. Darkness crept in from the corner of her vision. Gonna faint. Damn! I was SO gonna make it to that phone, too!