Chapter 6

• Crystal's POV "Crystal," He started. For a second he looked panicked, but the look quickly disappeared and was replaced with his cool calm. "I was just thinking about you." "I'm sure you were." I gave him a flat look before gesturing with the gun toward one of the armchairs. He moved quickly, but confidently over to the seat. "As a matter of fact," He said as he took a seat. "I was just going to call you. Everything going on the news, well, they've got it all wrong. I didn't do anything." I raised my eyebrows in disbelief at him. Marrek glared in his direction. "I'd shut up if I were you," He said coldly. To Jackson's credit, he didn't even flinch. "No, please continue," I said. "I'd love to see how you intend to talk yourself out of this." "Umm," Another voice spoke up and I glanced briefly at Noah still hanging from Marrek's grip. "Seeing as how this clearly doesn't involve me since it's entirely his fault. Can I be put down?" I nodded to Marrek and he set Noah back down on his own two feet. Noah quickly took a few steps back and brushed himself off. "Since this has nothing to do with me, can I leave?" He asked hopefully. Marrek didn't even glare at him. He just looked at him. Said absolutely nothing and just looked at him. Noah immediately sat down, shut up, and refused to move. I turned my focus back to Jackson. "Please, continue. I'm just dying to hear what you have to say." Jackson shot me a dazzling smile. I shot him a glare. His smile faltered. "Clearly, you've been wronged in some way-" "Understatement of the century." "-though I can assure you, it wasn't my fault." I stared at him, barely processing his words. He must be joking. He shot me another dazzling smile as if this was supposed to get him out of this mess. As if I was just supposed to swoon and forgive him. Likely that happened a lot. Too bad for him, I only swooned on special occasions. This wasn't one of them. "Honestly," I started as I stared down at him. "I don't care what you have to say. I don't care how you intend to talk yourself out of this. I want nothing more than to make you pay for everything you've done to me but . . . that's going to have to wait. I have more pressing matters to deal with." I kept the gun leveled evenly at him. "Where is the necklace?" I watched him blink blankly at me, watched his cocky demeanor fade to utter confusion as if he wasn't processing my words. "Necklace?" He questioned, the look of confusion not fading. I held up my fingers. "About this big. Shaped like a heart. Silver chain and setting. Sapphires and diamonds on it." I saw a spark of realization light up his eyes before he buried it quickly. He folded his hands in his lap and the look of confusion was gone, once again replaced with his usual cocky arrogance. "What necklace?" He asked innocently. I glared at him before taking a few steps closer to him. Close enough to hit him. I pulled my arm back and swung my fist into his jaw before he could say anything else. Jackson swore and rubbed at his jaw, letting out a hiss of pain as he gingerly probed at the soon to be bruised area. He looked up at me. "Oh, that necklace." I gave him a flat look and he just shot me another of his wide smiles. He folded his hands back in his lap again and fixed his eyes on me. "I don't have it," He said. I resisted the urge to hit him again. Barely. Instead, I kept the gun leveled at him. "I find that very hard to believe. Look, right now, I'm willing to walk away without your head if you just give me back the necklace you stole." "Sure you don't want a different part of my anatomy?" I was seriously debating the consequences of shooting him now and finding the necklace on my own. Unfortunately, I'd already searched the yacht and had come up empty so I had no choice but to endure . . . him. "You have five seconds to tell me where the necklace is," I told him. "I already told you, I don't have it." "Then where is it?" He paused and studied me for a moment, his eyes shining with amusement. "I sold it." I stared at him and hoped I'd heard him wrong. "You what?" I asked slowly. Jackson didn't seem to pick up on the underlining anger in my words and just casually sat back, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair and grinning like an idiot. Like this was all some kind of a joke. My patience with him was borderline non-existent. "I sold it," He repeated. "Didn't go with my outfit." He took a long time looking me over. "Would have looked nice on you . . . if it was the only thing you were wearing." And my patience was gone. He tilted his head as he stared at me. "Although, I am curious as to why you've spent so long tracking me down just to get a necklace back. A necklace, if I remember correctly, you said you hated." "I do," I replied. "And it's none of your business." "You're pointing a gun at me because of this hated necklace-" "You're delusional if you think that's the only reason." "-so, I kind of feel like it is my business." He suddenly got to his feet and used his fingers to push the gun I was holding to a different direction. No concern with the possibility of getting shot. He walked over to the window and stared outside. "Tell you what, you tell me why that necklace is so important to you and I'll tell you where to find it." He shot me a smug smile over his shoulder like he thought he had me. Like he expected me to give in. I stared at him blankly before turning my attention to Noah instead. I walked up to him and he fidgeted in his seat, his eyes on the floor, avoiding me. "Noah," I said with false sweetness. "Where is the necklace?" He looked up from the floor to me, his eyes wide. He kept looking from the gun to my face and then back to the gun. He opened his mouth but then one look in Jackson's direction and he suddenly snapped his mouth shut. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see the glare on Jackson's face. It disappeared as soon as he saw I was looking his way and was replaced with his cocky smile. I sent him one of my own back and got the satisfaction of watching his falter. I turned my attention to Marrek who was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging, and looking intimidating as hell. I nodded in Noah's direction. Marrek whistled. Hunter perked up from the rug he'd been lying on. Marrek pointed to Noah. "Lunchtime," He told Hunter. Hunter didn't even have the chance to get up before Noah started screaming. "Alright! Alright!" He shouted. "He sold it to a member of the drug cartel!" Jackson glared at Noah. Noah pressed himself as far back into the chair he was sitting in as possible, his eyes focused on Hunter. Funny thing was, I was pretty sure Hunter didn't even know what "lunchtime" meant. And if Marrek's smile was any indication, since he never smiled, I was right. I would have been highly amused as well if I wasn't replaying Noah's confession in my head. The drug cartel. That's just great. Just what I wanted to hear. I was going to kill "The Storm." I caught Marrek's attention and tapped my gun before sliding it back into the waistband under my coat. He understood what I was telling him and he pulled his gun as I put mine away. I rubbed at my forehead, feeling a headache coming on because it was beginning to look like I was going to be stuck conversing with Jackson so much longer than I wanted to. "You sold it to a member of the drug cartel," I stated, hoping he was going to clarify and tell me that this wasn't the case. Though I could tell Noah hadn't been lying. "Technically, it was the mistress of the head of the drug cartel," Jackson responded. I blinked at him, praying I'd just heard him wrong. "Please tell me you're joking," I said. Jackson tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks and smiled, his expression highly amused. I groaned and rubbed at my head again. "This day could not possibly get any worse." I could feel Jackson's eyes on me as he watched me carefully, curiously. "I still don't understand what's so important about this necklace," He said. "My father gave it to me," I replied simply. "Paid for by blood money, no doubt." I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes. But otherwise, I didn't react to what he'd said. Jackson got that look on his face like he just discovered something amazing. As if he'd just been told the greatest kept secret in the world. "No reaction from you," He said as he took a few steps toward me. "I was expecting you have some sort of reaction to that statement. I was expecting you to dispute it or at least ask me what I'm talking about, but you did neither." He took another few steps so he was standing right in front of me. His eyes were locked on mine. "Interesting," He commented as if he were thinking out loud. His cocky smile suddenly got much wider. "You know about your father, don't you?" I don't respond to him and simply stare back into his eyes, refusing to back down. Refusing to be intimidated by him. Refusing to give anything away. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared back defiantly. Yes, I knew about my father. I knew that my father, Lawrence Carver, was considered the biggest crime lord in the world right now. I knew law enforcement agencies across the country had been trying to take him down and put him behind bars for years now. I knew he was considered untouchable and any case that was ever brought up against him was always dropped. Either it was because of bribes my father made, threats, or hiring a hitman to make his problems go away. Yes, I knew just how horrible my father was. There were lists upon lists of things he'd done, lives he'd ruined, and families he'd torn apart. Yes, I knew he was still doing these things but I hadn't always known it. And for a long time, I hadn't wanted to believe it. I hadn't wanted to believe that the same man who had driven me to school, who had read me bedtime stories, who had given me the world, and who had given me all his love, was the same man who had destroyed lives. Who had done and was continuing to do so many horrible things. "Ah," He said, his tone taking on the smug quality I was beginning to despise. "You do. And yet everyone thinks you remain blissfully ignorant to anything to do with how your father created his empire." "I'm aware," I replied. "But are you aware that you're considered the best conman?" He scoffed at me. "Of course, I know that." "Hmm." I pretended to nod thoughtfully. "Then how come you couldn't figure out just how blissfully ignorant I really was?" His cocky smile vanished and he narrowed his eyes at me, a muscle in his jaw twitching as it clenched and unclenched. I smiled sweetly and innocently back at him. "For someone who's supposedly so good at reading people . . . well, you suck at it." He glared at me. "I read you well enough to get what I wanted out of you." It was my turn to glare at him. "I don't have your necklace, Babe," He told me firmly. "So get off my yacht and get lost." "Or," I started as I continued to glare back at him, refusing to back down. "You could get it back." "I'm not going to get it back." "I don't think you're understanding exactly what kind of situation you've stupidly put yourself in," I said. "You either help me get the necklace back or-" "Or what?" He asked as he took another step toward me. I could tell he was expecting me to take one back but I didn't and now we were standing less than an inch away from each other. "You'll tell your father where I am and have him come and do your dirty work?" I shrugged innocently, my gaze never leaving his. "That's one option." "And you think that scares me?" I shrugged again. "If you really know who my father is, then yes, it should." He smiled at me. "Word on the street is that one of your father's loyal employees is gathering information against him and selling him out to the FBI. So, all I have to do is sit back and avoid him and soon he'll be behind bars. He won't be able to touch me." I nodded. "Okay," I replied. "I see your point, but there are two problems with your little plan here." "Oh? And what would those be?" "One, you're living in a make-believe world if you really think my father won't be able to pull strings from inside a prison, and two, my father's not going to be going to prison any time soon." His smile suddenly faded and he was back to eyeing me like he was trying to figure me out. Trying to see into my soul and see what I was hiding. "Again," He muttered. "No reaction." I let out an exaggerated sigh. "No reaction to what?" I asked him. "No reaction to me telling you that someone's working to bring down your father." I rolled my eyes. "Would you like me to pretend to be surprised?" His eyes suddenly widened and he took a step back from me. "It's you, isn't it?" He said. "You're the one gathering evidence against your father." I let a mocking and cocky smile fall across my face. "Took you long enough to figure that one out, didn't it?"