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Chapter 8

  • Crystal's POV Jackson took what I assumed was supposed to be a threatening step toward me. "You're playing with fire, Babe," He told me. I smiled sweetly back at him. "Good thing we're literally surrounded by water." I got right in his face and stared back at him defiantly. "Bring it on, Storm." He got that look in his eyes. The look that said he was excited for a challenge and intended to win. Too bad I was going to make sure he'd lose. Jackson's cocky smile widened at whatever expression was on my face. He walked out onto the deck of his yacht. I followed behind him, more than a little annoyed when he leaned back against the railing and crooked a finger at me to come closer. I stayed where I was. "Not going to happen," I said flatly. Jackson's smile seemed to get even bigger. He pulled an envelope out of the inside pocket of his suit and held it out to me. "I don't know what you're thinking of, Babe," He said, his eyes sparkling in amusement. "But my intentions are completely honorable. Get your head out of the gutter." I glared at him before slowly walking up to him and taking the envelope from his hand. I opened it and stared down at the invitation made out to Jackson Storm for a huge gala. Already this was setting off alarm bells in my head. Nobody invites Jackson Storm to a gala. They'd invite Thomas Gavin, Wyatt Franklin, Ryan Stuart or any other of his thousands of identities. It wouldn't be addressed to Jackson Storm . . . unless the gala wasn't exactly for the most legal kind of people. I turned the invitation around for him to see. "Do I even want to know?" I asked him. He smiled. "All that you need to know is that several . . . of the more colorful characters in the world will be there. It's a night for everyone to do business with one another without the troublesome police coming and ruining all the fun." I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "And," Jackson said as he narrowed his eyes at me. "the mistress I sold your necklace too will be there." I eyed him skeptically. "How can you be so sure of that?" Jackson's eyes lit up and I knew I was going to regret asking before he'd even opened his mouth to give me an answer. "She's the one who gave me the invitation. Said she'd love to see me again. She gave it to me right after-" I cut him off with the wave of my hand. I already knew where this conversation was going. "Please, don't finish that sentence." Jackson's smile remained firmly in place. "Come now, don't be shy. It's nothing that we didn't-" "I will shoot you if you finish that sentence." Jackson's smile widened. "Don't like to be reminded of our nighttime activities?" "Don't like you," I corrected him. I looked him up and down. "Or my desperate lapses in judgment." He just looked amused at my reply. I glared at him. "So we go to this gala and then what?" I asked him. "Ask her kindly to please return the necklace?" Jackson shrugged. "I figure we'll have to buy it back from her." He locks eyes with me. "Which of course you will be paying for." I crossed my arms over my chest. "And how do you figure that?" Jackson scoffed. "Well, I certainly won't be returning any of the money I was paid. After all, I did do business." "With stolen property," I hissed. He waved me off. "Minor details." "Considering you're the cause of this mess and I'll shoot you if you don't cooperate . . ." I trailed off. "You're going to be fixing this mess. No matter the cost." He glared at me. "Anything else, princess?" I glared back at him. "Assuming she doesn't want to sell the necklace back, what then?" He shrugged and stared out at the setting sun across the ocean. "I haven't gotten that far yet." I rolled my eyes. "Of course, you haven't." "I imagine one day you're going to roll your eyes so far back in your head, they're going to get stuck there." I ignored his comment. "Do you have any plan for getting the necklace back other than spending an unnecessary amount of money?" I asked him. He shrugged. "I suppose we could always just talk her into giving it back or just steal it." I groaned. "Stealing from someone connected to the cartel, are you out of your mind?" "In a way," He said simply. I rubbed at my forehead with my fingers, feeling a migraine coming on. "Don't know why I even bothered to ask," I muttered. "I knew the answer anyway." He smiled at me. "Lighten up, Babe." I studied him. "You're being awfully cooperative." Jackson smiled. "I know when I'm beat," He replied. I shot him a deadpan look. "I doubt that." I narrowed my eyes at him. "What are you planning?" He raised his eyebrows at me and his smile turned sly. "Why do you assume I'm planning something? Not everyone's conspiring against you." "Says the conspirator." He walked up to me and tapped me on the nose. "Smartass," He said. "You do that again and you'll have one less finger." Jackson just smiled at me and I hated it. Hated his stupid smile of amusement. Hated that he wasn't taking me seriously. Hated that he seemed to have absolutely no concern for his personal safety whenever I made a threat. But most of all, I hated him. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. "What are you hoping to gain from this?" I pressed. "Why, nothing but the pleasure of your desirable company, of course," He winked at me before turning away to stare at the setting sun. I continued to glare at him even though he couldn't see me. "Now why don't I believe that?" He waved me off without turning around. "Believe what you want." I believed I wanted to toss him over the rail into the ocean below. Teach him a lesson or two about playing with fire. I also knew there was something he wasn't telling me. Something he was keeping to himself. And I knew it had something to why he was being so agreeable. Yes, me holding a gun to his head probably helped to make him agreeable, but from what I knew about Jackson Storm, he didn't do anything he didn't want to do. Which meant that there was something he was hoping to gain from all this. Something he wanted from me. But for the life of me, I didn't even know where to begin to figure out what he could possibly want from me . . . other than his suggestive comments of course. "So," I said as I leaned back against the railing next to him. "When do we set out?" Jackson shrugged. "I figure we could leave in the morning. Might I suggest a hotel for you to stay at? I know a lovely one right on the beach a mile away." "So you can leave without me? Not a chance." Jackson shrugged innocently. "Worth a shot." He eyed me skeptically. "Then where do you propose to stay?" "I'll be staying right here on the yacht with you and Noah." Jackson smiled slyly. "I recommend the master suite. It's quite roomy and comes with the most delightful roommate." I pretended to ponder over this. "Huh, I agree, it is rather roomy. Good thing the roommate isn't attached to the room. Yes," I nodded overenthusiastically. "It'll suit my needs perfectly." He laughed and shook his head. "It's amusing how you think you'll get your way. But then again, I suppose a rich little daddy's girl like yourself isn't used to being told no." I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him yet again. "It's amusing how you think you know me. How you think you've figured me out completely and yet . . . you didn't seem to see this coming." "Slight oversight on my part," He said nonchalantly. "I'm learning from my mistakes." "Are you?" I questioned. He winked at me again and then turned his back to me. Ignoring me once again. "How are we getting there?" I finally asked him. He gestured to the wide open sea. "I figure we'll take the yacht and then a car to where we need to go." He smiled devilishly. "Unless of course, you'd like to swim." I smiled innocently back at him. "Would you?" "Only with you, Babe." He took a long look at me. "Though, I'd hope you'd ditch the clothes. Swimming without them is so much more . . . refreshing." So many things were wrong with that statement, I didn't even know where to begin. "Stop calling me babe," I said. "Would you prefer I called you manipulative bitch instead?" I glared at him. Jackson smiled. "I'll take that as a no." "There was no date on the invitation," I told him. "So when exactly is it?" Jackson shot me a smile. "So eager to be permanently in my presence." "So eager to be rid of your presence," I corrected him. "As soon as I get the necklace back I no longer have the unfortunate torture of dealing with you." He smiled widely, amused and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I think you'll find I'm not that easy to get rid of," He told me. I smiled sweetly back at him. "I suppose that's true," I agreed. "Though you are awfully good at running away with your tail tucked between your legs." Jackson's smile turned into a glare. "I was not running." "No?" I questioned innocently. "Then what is all this?" I gestured around to the yacht, to his changed appearance. "An act for who to see? You're running away from all the problems you've created. Running from the devastation you caused." Jackson smiled again. "Ah yes, all the satisfied women I've left behind singing my praises?" He winked at me. "I'm not running from anything. I'm simply embracing my way of life." "Destroying lives?" "That's your father Babe, not me." I shrugged as I stared back at him. "Some would argue that you're just as bad as he is." That got a reaction out him. His back had been turned to me once again but I saw the way he tensed up abruptly. Saw the way his knuckles went white as he held on to the railing. And I almost jumped out of my skin when he whirled on me so fast I thought he'd get whiplash. His expression was deadly. Not something I'd seen on him. He got right up in my face and glared down at me. "Don't you ever say I'm the same as Lawrence Carver," He growled. I was intimidated, yes, but I also wasn't going to back down or allow him to know that he got to me. So, I stared defiantly back at him. "Both of you destroying lives. Both of you leaving a path of destruction in your wake. Both of you self-serving bastards." I glared back at him. "It's a miracle you two aren't the best of friends." Jackson looked like he wanted desperately to hit me. Like he wanted to reach his hands out and wrap them around my throat. Instead, however, he simply spun on his heel and disappeared below deck. I let out a breath as I stared at his retreating form. That was just about the most reaction I'd seen from him that didn't seem to be scripted. Though, that still told me nothing about why he acted in that particular way. "Playing with fire indeed," I muttered under my breath. "And it's best if you back away now," Noah spoke up from behind me. He'd come out from the lounge indoors to stand on the deck. He stared down at his shoes and didn't look at me. I shrugged and then smiled. "He's already burned me once," I said. "and that just means I know how to avoid it this time around." Noah shakes his head and glances at me briefly. "It's not a good idea." "Thanks for looking out for me kid," I said as I walked past him. "But it's him you should be concerned for." I smirked as I stared at the closed door of the yacht. "After all," I said quietly to myself. "I'm chasing a storm . . . he's the one playing with fire. And I'm going to make sure he's burned."