Ch.35 - Jackson

Jackson paced back and forth along the large picture window like a caged animal. 

Every few seconds his eyes darted through the sycamore trees lining the country road in front of the property wondering when the Wilson's might return home. Each minute felt like an eternity as he watched, waiting...

No way could that woman survive an attack like the one she'd had, his gut told him that. He had seen the way her blue eyes glazed over as she lie gasping on the floor, struggling to fill her lungs with air. By the time he'd walked away her breaths were so shallow they were barely there. Whatever had happened inside of her had a quick effect. He'd never seen anything like it. He was mesmerized by the ghostly pallor that glided across her skin and it took him back to a time, many years ago now, when he had seen that same look before. The look of death. There was no mistaking it.

The sound of the baby crying in the next room brought him back to reality. Here he had the perfect opportunity for revenge. He could watch the woman's chest rise and fall for the last time and then leave town with the baby. Let Charlie and Talia Wilson choke on that terrible twist. Whatever would they do without their beloved matriarch and bouncing baby girl? Knowing how horribly they'd suffer had been tempting, very tempting indeed. So tempting he'd almost followed through.

But as he walked into the nursery he began to wonder what he'd do with the child once he had it? Where would he take her? Every Fed in North America would be hot on their trail and since Carter was a baby girl from a working class family who'd already been through so much--the media would devour that bit of information--the public would surely have a field day, all too anxious to play hero. 

And what if someone had seen him walk into The Ivy House? What if they watched as he drove away in his rented silver sedan with Louisiana plates and a screaming brat inside? How would he debate his way out of that one? Not that he'd given the rental car company his real name, but how long would it take for some badge-wearing enthusiast to work out the details? Besides, he didn't come all this way to babysit. And what was he going to do...kill the kid? That hadn't been part of the plan.

Getting his hands dirty wasn't the problem, he just had no intention of rotting in jail for it. However he decided to take care of the Wilson's he would not incriminate himself, that much he knew. He had a life back in Seattle, a life he needed to get back to, and even his lawyers would have trouble clearing him of a child's death. No one liked a baby murderer. And after Charlie's failed hunting "accident" he was certain eyebrows would be raised, at the very least Ryan's, and that was enough. Boy Wonder had it in for him, and he wouldn't put it past him to take matters into his own hands. He had that unhinged look in his eyes.

No, he needed to wait. Jackson had plans for Charlie and Talia. And while getting rid of the mother--with her watchful hawk eyes--had a certain appeal to it, this way wouldn't work.

But honestly, he didn't know how long he'd be able to stay in that house. There were times he didn't feel alone. The occasional hint of cologne would waft past him, so subtle he wondered if he imagined it.And at night while he lay in bed, he could hear faint noises moving from room to room, like a mouse searching for a stray morsel of food. Only it sounded much bigger than a mouse. And sometimes, when he was lingering on the verge of sleep, a whisper would jolt him awake, although he could never quite make out the words. He even had to rearrange his bed, turning it to face the Northeast corner of the room because for some reason it felt as if someone were watching him from the ceiling. Good thing he wasn't paranoid.

He needed a cigarette.

Jackson opened the front door and walked onto the porch, the mid-afternoon heat slapping him in the face. He hated Florida. Everything about it. From the towering palm trees he'd passed on the drive through to the heinous Everglades he was now stuck in the middle of. The smell of wet grass and rotten eggs permeated the air, so much so he could never take in a deep breath. It made him feel cranky.

He jogged down the steps and out to his car, the thrill of inhaling nicotine pushing him forward. The rain storm from earlier had passed and now the sun beat down like a hammer nearly blinding him as it bounced off the windshield of the cramped rental car. He flinched as he pulled back on the door handle. It felt like molten lava to the touch. Heat spilled out in waves but he surged through it toward the lighter and pack of cigarettes lying on the passenger seat.

When he returned to the porch he sank into a brown wicker chair, the cushion so thin it felt as if it were not even there. He lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips, taking in a slow drag. The sweet sensation of smoke filled his lungs and he felt its calming effects immediately. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed another long hit and tried to brush away a lingering thought.

What if Enid Wilson pulled through? What if, by some freakin' miracle, she made it out of the hospital alive? The way she'd looked at him when he appeared on her doorstep, like she was able to see right through his facade, had been somewhat unnerving. She didn't like him, he realized that the first time they'd met. Not that she'd said as much or treated him unkindly. But he knew. There was just something about the way her eyes followed him, passive and untrustworthy. If there was one thing he was good at it was reading people. Ryan didn't care for him either, not that it mattered. He couldn't care less what that white-trash piece of shit thought.

But this quick reflection is what made him stop in his tracks. He was reaching for the baby, his hands mid-air, when he decided to retrace his steps. Slowly, he walked to where Enid lay on the ground, her skin covered in a thin layer of perspiration and devoid of color. She wasn't moving. Was she even alive? 

He bent closer and watched her chest. She wore a loose-fitting tank top made of delicate linen. It buttoned up the front, the first several unfastened, revealing the soft curve of cleavage. He hadn't noticed it before, perhaps he'd been too preoccupied, but she was an extremely attractive woman. More mature than what he normally preferred, but she was fit and obviously took care of herself. However, she was confident, too confident--a trait he found rather bothersome in the female gender. A confident woman meant a cocky woman, one who didn't understand her place.

And this one most definitely did not understand her place. Owner of a business? Head of the Wilson family? All that was missing was the queen's crown and scepter. Just who the hell did she think she was anyway? 

Trouble. That's what.

Reluctantly, Jackson had taken a deep breath and reached for his cell. He dialed 911 and began CPR, delivering rescue breaths until help arrived. He referred to himself as a family friend, retrieved the hysterical baby making efforts to coddle her and phoned Charlie and Talia unsuccessfully. "You may have saved her life," the paramedics informed him. "She's lucky you were here."

Oh, the irony of it all. He'd come all this way to Florida to snuff out a life or two, now he was a fucking hero.

But that was a good thing. He wasn't done with Charlie and Talia yet. They hadn't payed for their crimes and as the law of retaliation states, "an eye for an eye." And fair was only fair.

Jackson finished his cigarette and tossed the butt into the shrubs. The sun felt so hot as it blazed high in the sky. Drops of sweat rolled down his face and dripped onto his shirt. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and glared up at the blinding rays, forcing himself not to squint. He stared, until the bright ball of fire faded away from his vision.

Momentarily blinded, Jackson stood up from his chair and moved his hands along the siding of the house until his fingers found the handle. Just be patient, things will work out. They always do. Opening the door, he disappeared inside. 

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Hello and thank you for reading Secrets and Lies! If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a vote!

I hope Jackson's POV helped clear up why he decided not to take the baby. I know some of you thought it was the best way to hurt Charlie and Talia. Having your child taken would certainly be unthinkable, but I think Jackson realized it would be more trouble than it's worth. He's concentrating on taking the life of the people/person who took Steven's and doesn't want a distraction like that to keep him from his goal. So far things are not going quite as he planned.

I'm hoping to post the next chapter this weekend. And as a reminder, if you receive strange messages in your inbox or on your wall from someone offering free gifts, please please do not click on the links they provide. These are people trying to hack your computer and are in no way associated with Wattpad. Send me or another ambassador the info and we will close the account. Have a good day! :)