27. Unwanted Dances

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Crystal's POV

Jackson stood in place but turned to look over his shoulder just as Kurt Branson and his wife stopped in front of the doorway.

Another song had started up just seconds before they'd walked in, and more couples were beginning to join us on the dancefloor once more.

Branson had his hair slicked back, a black suit all buttoned up, a white shirt, a black tie, a white mask around his eyes, and judging by the way he'd walked in and how he was standing, I could tell he was armed. Mrs. Branson stood beside him, her arm looped through his.

Her hair was left down in loose blonde curls, she wore a long black dress with only one sleeve, though it was a long sleeve and covered her entire right arm. She was also wearing a pair of black gloves and while on her right side it was impossible to tell where the dress ended and the glove started, the glove went up to her elbow on her left arm. She also wore a white mask, but hers was similar to the one Jackson wore, it went around her eyes but also covered the right side of her face. In her free hand, she held a white clutch. There was a slit that went nearly up to her hip, and I could see a pair of white heels on her feet.

Jackson, who was still staring at Branson, continued to stand still with his hands on my sides. It was only when Branson once again continued into the room that Jackson made any move at all. He followed Branson with his eyes and his hands on my sides began to tighten, but I didn't think he even realized it.

I didn't think he even realized there was anyone else in the room with him besides Branson. I didn't say anything and instead took the opportunity to watch Jackson instead.

A muscle in his jaw ticked as it was clenched and unclenched, his whole body tense, and his eyes seemed alight with fire, but not a good kind. He watched Branson like a predatory animal, waiting for the exact moment to pounce. And his hands continued to tighten on me and while it was not yet hurting me, it was being to become uncomfortable.

"Storm," I whispered, pulling at his hands, but it was like he didn't even know I existed. "Storm," I said a little louder, still he didn't even notice.

His hands very suddenly tightened once more as he continued to watch Branson, and I could feel them bruising my skin.

"Jackson you're hurting me," I hissed, pain in my voice.

He suddenly turned to look at me, like he was just seeing me. He blinked a few times and immediately let go, taking a step back. He looked down at his hands briefly, then back to Branson. He clenched his hands into fists and walked away, leaving me standing in the middle of the dancefloor, alone.

I narrowed my eyes at his retreating form, but before I got the chance to follow after him, Damien came out of nowhere, looped his arm through mine, and pulled me off the dancefloor.

"Believe me," Damien said as he guided me to a table in a back corner. Julie was already sitting at it. "Storm does not want company right now. I've seen that look on people's faces before, it never bodes well." He held up a hand to cut me off before I could interject. "Second, thanks for telling your friend I'm single. She hasn't left me alone all night."

I smiled, Jackson Storm forgotten for the moment, and shook my head. "The night hasn't even been that long. It's barely started."

I looked over at Branson who had approached a table with two other couples at it. He and the two other men got up and left the table together, going to the bar. He seemed to be deep in conversation.

I nodded my head in their direction. "What do you think they're discussing?" I asked Damien.

He shrugged. "Nothing good. I recognize one of their faces from the FBI databases. He's got warrants out for his arrest. He's an arms dealer. Deals out some of the more explosive kinds of weapons."

"The other one is a bomber," Jackson suddenly spoke up, from right behind me, where he'd just appeared out of thin air. "No wonder they're getting along so well."

Julie glared at him. "You are so damn creepy."

Damien crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Jackson. "And how do you know this?"

"I did business with him." He continued to watch them. "Actually, I've done business with both of them before."

"Surprise, surprise," I muttered.

He glanced at me and for a moment I saw his eyes move down to my sides, a look on his face I couldn't decipher. I also noticed, he was once again playing with something in his hand, something with a gold chain. He smiled at me like all was right with the world and nothing had happened.

I wasn't quite so content pretending it hadn't happened. "Going to lose your head again?" I asked him.

The smile left his face and was replaced with a serious look accompanied by a glare.

I turned away to watch Branson once more. "Just asking," I said.

I watched as Mrs. Branson came walking up and placed a gloved hand on Branson's arm. He leaned down to listen to her as she whispered something in his ear. He then nodded to the two men and though I was too far away to make out what they were saying, it looked like he was ending the conversation. He walked away, with her on his arm and led her out onto the dancefloor, with her smiling the whole way.

"How touching," I said sarcastically. "He has a heart."

"I doubt that," Jackson said, and his tone of voice was . . . off.

He held out his hand to me. I looked down at it, knowing full well what he wanted. He glanced over at me.

"Shall we?" He asked.

"We shall not," I replied.

"Funny," He said. "I wasn't asking."

"Funny," I repeated. "It sure sounded like it."

He once again grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me out onto the dancefloor. I let him.

"What has gotten into you?" I asked him.

He glanced briefly at me before quickly looking away. "I don't know what you mean."

"Hmm," I said thoughtfully. "well, I could be talking about the fact that you left me in the middle of the dancefloor, your sudden personality switch," I snapped my fingers like the answer had just suddenly come to me. "or it could be the bruises I'll have by tomorrow morning because of you."

He didn't reply. Didn't even look at me.

I blew out a sigh as I continued to allow him to lead me throughout the dancefloor once again. I looked up at him. "Tell me," I said. "Why is it so important you get Branson?"

"Shh," He told me. "We're not talking about work right now."

"No? Because you don't seem to want to talk about anything else all of a sudden." I pointed out in annoyance.

He just shrugged.

"Then when are we talking about it?" I questioned.

Jackson shrugged and looked out at the other guests, his eyes straying to the open doorway every now and then. "That's not something you need to worry about."

"Really?" I asked doubtfully. "Because when you're risking my life-"

"Let's not be dramatic."

"I'm not," I said firmly. "Tell me, if Branson had been scheduled to be at one of the other events like the luau-themed one, would you still have made me attend with you?"

He frowned down at me. "What kind of question is that?"

"Just answer it."

He shrugged. "Yes."

I stared at him. "You didn't even have to think about that did you?"

"Why would I?" He questioned. "I need your help."

I shook my head and tried to pull away, he held me still. "No, you don't," I said with a glare. "And the fact that you would have made me attend with you, regardless of the event, tells me just about everything I need to know."

He rolled his eyes again. "What are you on about now?"

"Branson's seen me," I told him. "He's seen Crystal Carver. He knows who I am. Granted, my hair and eye color have changed since he last saw me and at this event, I'm wearing a mask, but at any other event, he would recognize me," I said. "And you just told me that you would have dragged me along anyway, with or without a mask."

When I shoved away from him this time, he let me, but when I went to walk away, he caught my arm.

"First," He said as he moved closer and spoke in a hushed tone so no one else would hear. "I just barely recognized you, and I had been in bed with you, so the odds that he'd recognize you are low. Second," He took yet another step closer to me. "at what point did you mistake me for one of the good guys?"

I glared at him and tried to pull my arm free, but he didn't let go. "Let go of me," I hissed.

"Now that's no way to treat a lady," A voice behind me spoke and I froze. Jackson's hand on my arm suddenly tightened, but I didn't think he'd even realized.

I didn't turn around. I didn't acknowledge him, not even when he stood beside me and removed Jackson's hand from my arm.

I was frozen in place, unable to move, unable to speak as fear flooded through me. I felt his hand rest on my shoulder, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julie and Damien had moved to stand at the edge of the dancefloor. I discreetly shook my head and made a motion with my hand for them to stay back.

"This really doesn't concern you," Jackson told Branson as he took a step toward me.

Branson, with his hand on my shoulder, pulled me back from Jackson. "Maybe not," He spoke. "But I do think it concerns her and she doesn't seem to want to be around you."

"I was just going to step out for some fresh air," I said as I turned to try and leave, only to be stopped by Branson. I looked up and locked eyes with him. I could see some scars beneath and around his mask, all on the left side of his face and I could also see his glass eye . . . which was completely unnerving. I felt like he was seeing into my soul.

"There's no reason a lovely lady like you should have to leave," He said as his hand moved from my shoulder to my upper arm. My heart was beating so hard I felt like it was about to burst out of my chest. "He's the one that should have to step outside."

"We were just going back up to our room," Jackson said to him.

"Really?" Branson questioned. "Well, you have fun with that. Me and the lovely lady are going to dance."

"What?" I asked in disbelief and panic, but I didn't get an answer. Alarm bells were beginning to go off in my head.

Branson lead me away from Jackson and further onto the dancefloor before either he or I could say another word.

"You're so tense," Branson said as he put a hand on my lower back. "Relax, I don't bite." The smile he gave while he said that did absolutely nothing to put me at ease, in fact, it did quite the opposite.

I offered him a small, shaky smile. "You know, this is really unnecessary," I said. "and my feet are killing me I really would rather just go back to my room."

"The night's just begun," Branson told me. "There's no need to end it so soon just because of your husband."

I smiled back at him with fake sweetness, putting on a show. I could do this. I'd done it before and if I could fool my father, I could fool anyone. Inside, however, I was totally panicking and finding it harder and harder to breathe all at the same time. "This has nothing to do with him," I said. "I really am just tired. Had a long day." I tried to pull away but he kept his grip on me. "Plus, I continued I really wouldn't want to keep you from your wife."

He shrugged. "Well, you don't have to worry about that," He said. "My wife is the one who asked me to come over and rescue you."

Alarm bells were fully blaring now.

"Your wife, asked you to intervene?" I questioned.

He nodded as he stared down at me, this time with a look of curiosity. "Have we met before?" He suddenly asked me.

I felt my heart drop out of my chest. I felt like couldn't breathe. I couldn't even speak, so I just shook my head.

"Are you sure?" He asked me. "You seem awfully familiar."

"I-" I had to stop to clear my throat. "I would have remembered if I'd met you."

I tried once again to pull away from him, and this time he let me. I wasn't expecting that, so I nearly fell backward. I was stopped by a pair of hands on my shoulders, catching me and keeping me upright. A pair of gloved hands.

And there was only one person at this entire event that I had seen wearing gloves so far.

"I'm so glad you're alright," She whispered as she walked around me to stand in front. She smiled at me, and while it was a sweet, welcoming smile, the look in her eyes was completely the opposite. "Glad my husband was able to get you away from that awful man."

"Yeah," I muttered with a tight smile. "It's great."

She smiled widely before turning to Branson. "She helped me pick out this dress at the mall today," She locked eyes with me, daring me to say otherwise. "Isn't that right?"

I nodded. "Of course," I replied. "It looks wonderful on you."

She continued to smile. "I think the bartender has my drink ready." She grabbed hold of my hand. "Join me."

She didn't give me a choice, not that I particularly wanted to choose between her and Branson. Though, I would much prefer her at least, for the moment.

I tried to catch a glimpse of Jackson as she pulled me through the crowds of people toward the bar, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Your husband was otherwise preoccupied while you were dancing," She suddenly said, as if she too were a mind reader.

I narrowed my eyes at her and she waved me off. "He's fine," She said. "Not that you actually care about that fact, right?"

"What do you want?" I asked her.

"You look like you could use a drink," She said, ignoring my question.

I turned to look at her as she leaned up against the bar next to me.

"I'm good," I replied as I eyed her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Mrs. Branson?"

She smiled and her eyes seemed to light up. "Just a friendly chat between us girls of course. What else?"

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