Chapter 11

• Crystal's POV I had barely taken a step back into the ballroom before Jackson's arm was around my waist and pulling me through people to a secluded corner. "What the hell were you thinking?" He asked. I looked down at my nails. "I need to touch up my nail polish," I muttered. Jackson pushed me back until I hit the wall. I glared at him and shoved him back from me. "You put your hands on me again," I growled. "and you won't have any." Jackson rolled his eyes. "I'm petrified with fear," He said sarcastically. "What the hell is your problem?" He narrowed his eyes at me. "I asked you a question first." I continued to glare at him. "What exactly were the chances of no one recognizing me?" I asked him. "It was only a matter of time before someone put a name to my face and then what?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "I figured I'd just go along with it before it caused problems." Jackson stares at me incredulously. "So when an enemy of your father comes over to kill you-and, more importantly, me just because of association-what exactly are you going to do then?" I pushed away from the wall and started walking back into the crowd. Jackson wasted no time in following me. "No one is going to kill me in an attempt to get back at my father," I told him. "How do you know this?" "Because no one-excluding you-is far enough out of their mind to actually think they can take on my father." Jackson shot me a flat look. "Half these people here are his allies," I waved my hand around to gesture to the people, keeping my voice low as we walked through the throngs of people. "and the other half are too fearful of him to incur his wrath." Jackson shook his head. "You're gambling with your own life and more importantly mine." I rolled my eyes. "You said that already. Now, I believe I asked you a question," I told him. "What the hell is your problem?" He groaned. "At the moment, you." I glared at him as he once again led me toward the dance floor. He glared back as he adjusted my hands on his shoulders and placed his on my hips. I gazed at him thoughtfully, thinking that it would take nothing for me to move my hands from his shoulders right over to his neck and tighten until his face started turning purple. Jackson suddenly smiled. "You would be unsuccessful," He stated and I narrowed my eyes at him, thinking it was damn creepy how he could tell exactly what I had been thinking. "Have you made any progress in getting my necklace back?" I asked him, changing the subject. He shrugged lazily and continued to move us both to the music. If he hadn't shrugged, I would have thought he hadn't heard me. Unfortunately, I realized he was simply ignoring me. "Storm," I growled. He smiled smugly and I wanted so badly to make good on my thoughts and wring his neck. I narrowed my eyes at him again and not so subtly, stomped on his foot. He clenched his jaw and his fiery gaze snapped to mine. "You're a wonderful dancer," He said sarcastically. "What do you want from me Storm?" That stupid smile spread over his face once again. "Forget it," I snapped. "Don't answer that." He continued to smile and pulled me flush into him, his hands moving to the small of my back . . . and then slowly going lower. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and pulled his head down toward me, my lips brushing against his jaw as I leaned toward his ear. "If your hands continue to wander, my knee's going to do the same." He threw his head back and laughed before looking back down at me with a twinkle in his eyes. "You, are something else, Crystal Carver." "Coming from you," I said. "that might just be considered a compliment." "As for what I want from you," He continued as if I hadn't said anything. His eyes connected with mine for a split second, that spark coming back. "I have no idea what you're talking about." I eyed him suspiciously. "Right," I replied. "I'm sure." A thought came to my mind. I knew there was something he was hiding from me. Something he was keeping to himself. He'd agreed to help me get the necklace back way too easily. Marrek had noticed as well. I had my suspicions but I didn't even know where to begin with why he'd go along with what I wanted . . . but I had an idea on how to find out. I knew what to say, and how to say it. He was a conman. He enjoyed a good chase, a good challenge, a puzzle of sorts. So, I'd give him one. "So," I started. "What do you say to a little bet?" I asked him. He raised his eyebrows at me and a smirk formed on his face. "What exactly did you have in mind?" "Not what your thoughts immediately went to, I can guarantee that." I played with the collar of his shirt. "I'm betting that you can't go the entire gala without putting your hands on me in one way or another." Jackson's smirk got wider. "And if I win," He asked me as he leaned in closer to me. "What's my prize?" The way he said prize made it sound like he meant me. I did my best to ignore everything about him at that moment. Though it was damn harder than it should have been. The man was undeniably sexy, undeniably handsome, and undeniably the worst human being I'd ever meant . . . and that alone said a lot. "I'll go along with whatever it is you're planning that you don't feel the need to share with me." A thoughtful look crossed his face. "How intriguing." He didn't say anything else. "Aren't you curious what happens if you lose?" I asked him. He shook his head. "I won't," He said confidently. I rolled my eyes. "If-when you lose," I said. "you're going to tell me what you're planning." He shrugged. "I'm not worried." "Really?" I asked him innocently. He eyed me suspiciously. "I'm not sure I like that tone." "Your hands are currently on my ass," I informed him. He smiled widely. "Bet doesn't start until after this dance." "Says who?" Jackson suddenly got quiet and his gaze focused on something over my shoulder. I turned in his arms to look at a woman with dark hair and a long red dress standing by a refreshment table. "That's her," He whispered in my ear and I nearly jumped out of my skin at his close proximity. "Don't do that," I hissed. He shot me a flat look. "Would you rather I had waved to her while she passed by?" He let go of me and stepped back, holding his arm out in a sweeping gesture. "After you," He said with a smile. "You're not winning that bet," I told him as I walked ahead of him. "Whatever you say," He said quietly. "Now do you want your blasted necklace back or not?" He moved around me and led the way up to the woman. He stepped right up to her and held out his hand. "Camila," He said as he raised her hand up to his lips. "Looking beautiful as ever." She flushed and stared at him as if she were trying to undress him with her eyes. I gagged internally and l let out a groan. Jackson's elbow hit my ribcage. My heel once again found his foot. She, however, didn't notice any part of this exchange, because I was pretty sure she was already planning how to get Jackson alone . . . actually, I was beginning to believe she didn't even care if they were alone at this point. Joy. "Kyle," She whispered breathlessly. "I didn't think you were actually going to come." I groaned again. "Can't you ever just stick with one name?" I asked Jackson. He ignored me. He walked up to her and gazed down at her as if she was the only woman in the room. She was like putty in his hands and all he had done was look at her. All he had done was lean down to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. All he had done was kiss her hand and call her beautiful. And it was disgusting. But that was Jackson Storm for you. "And miss the chance to see you again?" He whispered while never taking his eyes off her. "Never." "Someone put me out of my misery," I muttered. Jackson took his eyes off of her long enough to glare at me for a second. I watched as he tucked her hair behind her ear in a gentle and loving way. Watched as he held her gaze captive with his and miraculously not once did his gaze drift from her face. I watched as he held her hand in his. And suddenly, I was pissed. Not because I was jealous. Oh hell no. I was pissed because I was seeing him in action and I was seeing exactly the same things he'd done to me. I was pissed at him and myself for being stupid enough to fall for this crap. Jackson seemed to sense I was on the verge of blowing up at him and his conversation-which had consisted of nothing but oh I missed you so much-suddenly shifted to the necklace. "Tell me, Babe," He said softly to her. "why aren't you wearing that beautiful necklace I sold you at such a steal?" She seemed to flush even more, her face turning a shade of red to match her dress. "I was," She told him. "but in a room full of criminals, I decided I wasn't going to chance getting it stolen." She shrugged while staring him. "So, I put it away." "Put it where?" Jackson asked her. She suddenly frowned and shook her head. "Some place safe. Why is it so important to you?" He smiled at her in a reassuring way as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. His whispering was-unfortunately-loud enough for me to hear every word. "I'm just dying to see it on you . . . and nothing else." "I need a bucket," I grumbled. She giggled and took his hand without a second to waste, dragging him off after her. I followed. She didn't even notice. At that point, I don't think Jackson even noticed. She led him to a room on the second floor. All the while explaining that the Cartel were the ones running this gala. A fact Jackson had completely neglected to mention. She continued to explain that she had locked the necklace in the safe in the room she had been using during her stay . . . which also happened to be the room of the man in charge of the Cartel. I was going to kill Jackson. Chances were if she was spotted with him, he'd be killed and unfortunately, I would be caught in the crosshairs just because of the idiot I was currently stuck with. And I was willing to bet, with all those people downstairs in the ballroom, someone had seen him with her. Which meant we had hardly any time to get the necklace back . . . and that we were going to have a hell of a time getting out of here alive. I didn't follow them into the room. No way did I want to see exactly what they were doing before they even removed the necklace from the safe. So I stayed outside the door, listening. I heard several sounds I would have preferred not to know, as well as several more that I was perfectly content not to identify. Finally, there was a long silence followed closely by Jackson's whistle and his exclamation. "Now this looks absolutely stunning around your neck." I slowly and quietly eased open the door, knowing I was likely going to regret it. Jackson was making out with the woman when I walked in. Her dress was rumpled and his tie had been discarded, his shirt no longer tucked into his pants, his jacket on the floor. And the necklace was around her neck. I walked up behind her without her noticing since she couldn't tear her face away from Jackson's. And in the next two seconds after that, I had my arm wrapped around her neck and her in a chokehold. She started to scream and then stopped in favor of air. She struggled, her nails digging painfully into my arm, her feet kicking at my legs until finally her grip started to loosen and she fell limp in my arms. I lowered her to ground, checked her pulse to make sure I hadn't killed her and then took the necklace off her neck. Jackson was silently watching me the entire time. "What?" I finally snapped. "You couldn't wait a little longer before you did that?" I glared at him. "No," I said flatly. I flipped the necklace over in my hands and opened up my purse, taking out a small metal nail file. I used it to pry off the back of the necklace and then froze. "It's gone," I whispered in disbelief. "What's gone?" Jackson questioned. "The SD card," I replied. "It's not here."