29. Questions Unanswered

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Crystal's POV

I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes to look at the sunlight streaming into the room through the window. I hadn't even bothered to close the curtains the night before.

I took a deep breath as I continued to stare out the window at the blue skies and deep blue water just outside. My mind began to wander to last night, to my conversation with Jackson just before the drugs had knocked him out. I wanted to ask him about it and yet . . . somehow it seemed like I had intruded and heard something that I was not meant to hear.

I let out a sigh and rolled over once more. I was not yet ready to get out of bed and face the world. Not yet ready to face Jackson. Of course, the world tends not to care about your feelings, a point made abundantly clear when I rolled over and nearly let out a startled scream for the second morning in a row.

A hand was clapped over my mouth before I could let out my shout of surprise. "My head is killing me. Please refrain from screaming," Jackson whispered, not even bothering to open his eyes.

He was lying on his stomach, his face turned toward me on his pillow, still in his clothes from last night. His eyes were closed, his hair falling in his face and messy from sleep, and he still looked like a model. It was irritating as hell.

"Stop thinking," Jackson suddenly said. "You're making my headache worse."

I shot him a flat look as I lied on my side facing him. "You can't read minds."

His forehead scrunched up in pain. "Shh . . ." He whispered. "talk quieter or not at all."

I studied him with narrowed eyes.

"What?" He questioned.

"I didn't say anything."

"But you want to."

"I left you on the couch," I stated.

"I know."

"And you were drugged out of your mind."

"Don't remind me."

"How did you even make it to the bed?"

"I don't actually remember."

"Lovely."

"Isn't it?"

I glared at him before rolling over once more and pushing myself into a seated position. I continued to stare down at him.

"Out with it," He muttered. Still not opening his eyes.

"Do you . . ." I trailed off. I shook my head "Never mind," I muttered as I pushed off the bed and got to my feet.

He opened one eye and watched me with a frown. "What?" He questioned.

I shook my head again, thinking over his words from last night.

My biggest mistake.

"Nothing," I said. "Forget it." It's not like I was going to get an actual answer out of him anyway, so why bother?

"It's clearly not nothing, as you say."

"And how could you possibly know that?" I questioned. "And do not say mind reader," I added as I turned to face him.

His mouth closed for a second and he studied me with narrowed eyes. "It does not take a mind reader to tell something's bothering you."

"Oh, you mean other than the fact that I once again woke up to you in my bed?" I grumbled. "Also, since when do you give a damn? It's not like my feelings affect you getting what you want, right?"

"If you are referring to last night," He said with a glare. "I stand by what I said, I'm not one of the good guys."

I let out a scoff. "Believe me, I know." I grabbed some clothes from the dresser and walked to the bathroom. "Just out of curiosity," I said as I paused in the doorway. "Do you remember anything you did . . . or said after getting drugged?"

He frowned and seemed to be thinking it over for a long moment before finally, he shook his head. "No, why?"

I shook my head. "Nothing," I muttered softly. "It's not important."

I closed the bathroom door, shielding me from him, at least for the moment. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the door, trying to make sense of the thoughts running through my head. Trying to make sense of what was going on.

By the time I'd gotten showered, dressed, and stepped out of the bathroom, Jackson was gone. The bed was made up, his clothes folded neatly at the foot of the bed, but no Jackson. Not that I was particularly complaining about that fact.

Noah however, was still in the room, packing up his computer and whatever else he'd brought into his backpack.

I leaned against the doorway leading into the common area from the bedroom. "You going somewhere?"

He didn't even look up at me from what he was doing. "Back to the yacht. Jackson says you guys will only be here for a couple more days, and he doesn't need me in the hotel anymore."

I crossed my arms over my chest and just watched him. "News to me," I muttered.

I watched him put a tablet into the backpack, zip it up, and then nearly fall over from the weight as he tried to lift it onto his back. I shook my head. "That's a little sad, kid."

He just glared at me in response.

I walked over. "Let me," I said as I grabbed hold of the backpack strap and hoisted it over my shoulder, and nearly lost my balance myself. "What on earth do you have packed in here? Bricks?"

He huffed. "No," He said as he began to lead the way out of the hotel room. "and I got it here just fine, I could have taken it back."

"And yet, I don't see you trying to take it back from me."

He shrugged.

Noah led me out to the parking lot and opened up the trunk of a small black car. I dropped the backpack in and he nearly had an aneurysm.

"Be careful!"

"Relax," I said as I closed the trunk. "I didn't break your precious bricks."

"That's not funny," He said and then shrugged. "but thanks for the help."

"No problem," I said as I watched him. "You mind if I tag along?"

He frowned at me. "Back to the yacht?"

I nodded.

"Why?"

"Considering Storm is hell-bent to get to Branson and doesn't seem to care whether or not Branson takes me down along the way, I'd like to get my gun back."

Noah looked hesitant. "I don't know," He said. "Jackson said you were supposed to help him with something . . ."

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at Noah. "Either you take me with you so I can get my gun and continue to stay alive, or so help me Noah I will get the keys from you one way or another, lock you in the trunk of your own car and go there myself."

Noah's eyes widened. "Uh, sure. Whatever . . . just-uh, get in . . . I guess."

***

I carried Noah's backpack for him, my shoulders crying out in relief as soon as I was able to drop it onto the floor of his room on the yacht.

"Careful," He hissed yet again before digging through the pack to make sure I hadn't broken anything.

I shook my head and then went to the room I'd previously been staying in. Only, I couldn't find the gun.

I had looked in all the drawers, the closet, under the bed, and just about every other place it could possibly be, except it just wasn't there. "Damn you Storm," I muttered before swearing as I hit my head on the shelf above me.

"What are you doing?" Noah questioned in confusion.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Storm decided to stash my gun, would you?"

Noah shook his head. "I don't know where Jackson hides things, but I doubt he would actually leave it in your room."

"Then where?"

Noah shrugged. "Probably anywhere else on the yacht."

I groaned. "I hate him," I muttered before turning to look back at Noah. "I don't suppose you want to help, do you?"

Noah just shrugged again.

"How do you not know where Storm hides things?"

"Well, I know where he hides his things, but not where he hides other people's stuff."

I raised my eyebrows and looked at him.

He immediately shook his head. "I'm not telling you where he hides his things."

"Killjoy."

I walked out of the room and into another, beginning to search. "Why do you put up with him?"

"Who?" Noah questioned in confusion.

I rolled my eyes, thinking there was no way this computer genius could be this stupid. "Bigfoot," I replied sarcastically. "Who do you think I'm talking about?"

He glared at me as I began opening up cabinets.

"Well?" I said when he didn't reply. "Are you going to answer?" I looked at him over my shoulder.

He shrugged and looked down at the ground. "He takes care of me."

I scoffed.

"You don't believe that?" He questioned.

"It seems to me like you take care of him far more than he takes care of you," I said.

This got a small smile out of Noah. "Maybe now," He said. "But it wasn't always like that."

I looked at him over my shoulder once again as I opened another cabinet. "You're not going to elaborate, are you?"

He shook his head.

I shoved aside some bottles and boxes of who knew what and continued to search through the cabinet, letting out a breath of frustration when I still didn't find my gun. Or even Damien's for that matter.

"It is going to take hours to search this whole place," I said, mostly to myself. I groaned and ran a hand through my hair before leaning back against the now-closed cabinets and sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, just now realizing that I was actually exhausted from the events of the past few days. Of course, exhaustion was not the worst of my situation.

"If I decided to run out," I said quietly, my eyes still closed. "would you tell him?" I opened one eye to look at Noah.

He fidgeted back and forth on his feet, his hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans. He had his head down, looking at the floor, not me, and his hair obscuring most of his face. Finally, he shook his head.

"No," He whispered.

"Why not?"

He shrugged and again, still refused to look at me and instead looked out the nearby window. "I don't know," He said.

There was a long silence between us before he spoke again. "Because even though you're kind of scary . . . and haven't really said two words to me unless you were threatening me-"

I glared at him.

"-I don't . . . I don't want you to-to die . . ."

He finally turned to look at me, and for a second he looked every bit as young as he actually was. I offered him a small smile. "Thanks, kid," I said as I stayed sitting on the ground and closed my eyes once more.

"Are you okay?" Noah suddenly asked, or rather, blurted out.

I opened my eyes once more to look at him and he looked like a deer in headlights, like he was shocked the words even came out of his own mouth.

"I mean-uh, well it's just that-that you just kind of seem-" He kept rambling and I just stopped listening. Instead, I turned and looked out the window at the blue skies and fluffy white clouds.

Everything just sort of faded out, all noise, Noah, all distractions.

No. No, I was not okay.

It had been a long time since anyone had asked, and even then, I wouldn't have given them an honest answer. Because what could I even say?

I let out a long sigh and shook my head, vaguely aware that Noah was still rambling. "No," I said softly and his rambling abruptly ceased. "No, I'm not," I muttered.

"Oh," Noah said, not really prepared for me to give an actual answer or just not expecting me to. "Why not?"

"Why not?" I repeated and then let out a disbelieving laugh. "My life is completely falling apart. I'm taking down my father-who will kill me if he finds out-just when I thought I had found some sort of happiness in my life it turned out to be nothing more than Jackson Storm's cruel revenge with me thrown into the middle of it, I've been blackmailed to stick around or he'll tell my father about what I've been doing which again, leads to my death, just when I thought Storm possessed a fraction of a soul I was once again proven wrong, he preaches to me about trusting him and yet he doesn't trust me, he continuously puts me in the line of fire which will what? End in my death, and in the event I do survive this entire fiasco, I will be turning over evidence to put my father in jail which will not completely end his influence over others and I will be spending the rest of my life being hunted down. I will have to give up everything and everyone I have left for a life forever alone and forever on the run." I locked eyes with Noah. "That's why not."

Noah looked beyond uncomfortable. He looked around the room as if looking for a place to hide and scratched nervously at the back of his neck. "Well-" He started to say only to get cut off as the engine started up and the yacht lurched forward.

He let out a startled shout as the abrupt movement caused him to fall back into the wall and his eyes were wide and fearful.

I got to my feet and then nearly fell as the yacht suddenly made a sharp turn. "What's going on?"

"We're moving," Noah said to himself in complete disbelief.

"I can see that," I retorted. "Why?"

Noah shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know," He said. "Someone else must be on board."

"Storm?" I asked.

I got my answer however as I began to hear shouting and multiple voices, all of which I did not recognize.

Noah shook his head and looked up as footsteps thudded above us. "That's not Jackson."

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