Jackson sat in a chair across the room, watching Amy. She hadn't moved since he'd laid her down on the bed. He found himself checking her pulse again and again, sometimes leaning over her slightly, watching the rise and fall of her chest. Only to make sure she was still breathing. At least thats what he kept telling himself. Yet, he found himself fighting back the urge to touch her. He wanted to reach out and caress her skin, run his fingers thru her hair. He wanted to lay beside her, wrap his arms around her and protect her. He had been there over an hour now. He grew tired, impatient. Pacing back and forth across the room was something he did when he was anxious or nervous, and right now he was both. He stopped mid pace when he heard the bed creak. She was turning over, but she wasnt awake. He cursed under his breath. This wasn't right. What he was doing was wrong. Why was he here trying to help this strange woman when he was hired to end her life? Then again, wasn't it wrong to kill someone? Wasnt what he did for a living one of the biggest sins? What could she have possibly done to deserve a death sentence? Clenching his fists so tight his finger nails dug into his hands. He had never let anything or anyone get in the way of doing his job. He should leave right now. Go. Better yet, he could take her out right now. Over and done with. So easy. Maybe the easiest job ever. So why was he still standing here? He was stupid that was why. In the middle of the argument he was having in his head, he heard the bed squeak again. He turned around quickly, surprised that not only was she sitting up, she was smiling at him.