[rl] Jackson and Lisa
He knew her schedule like clockwork - her old schedule, perhaps Lisa had gone and changed again, always the surprising girl. Before she had gone to this bar every friday evening, the same little hole in the wall with the same bland outfits, v-necks that never went low enough to share her little secret. Jackson realized he liked knowing that scar and it's history, which was strange as he never intended to use the trauma against her. The fact she had told him, perhaps, or what the incident had made her, but poking a wound that deep - that was disrespectful. He respected Lisa, even if he wanted to ring her neck whenever the scar on his neck itched and made his voice just a touch hoarse.
Jackson didn't plan on underestimating again. His suit jacket was closed around a bullet proof vest, a lackey of sorts sitting in the far corner of the bar while two more kept watch closely outside. One was nearby Cynthia's house, just in case Lisa decided to pull a wild card.
Which Jackson hoped she would. He wanted a reason to try and choke the life out of her.
He stepped in, walking to the bar with a winning smile and an eye on the back exit. An easy escape, if need be. He had never been so paranoid before. It was... exhilarating.