49. Happy Endings are for Stories that are Finished

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

Crystal's POV

It had been a week. A week of getting my story straight. A week of dealing with the FBI while my father was locked up. True, there still had to be a trial, but Damien had said he'd do everything to keep me out of it. So that I'd be safer. The fewer people who knew I was involved, the better.

Still, that would not stop what was coming and I knew that.

Damien had left several FBI agents behind on the property watching the front door, the front gate, watching me. Making sure I was safe.

Really, I just wanted to be alone. Just wanted some time with my thoughts before I disappeared into the world. Which was why I'd snuck out of the house through a window, just to go for a stroll around the property without an escort.

I stood near the edge of the cliff, staring out at the sea as Jackson Storm himself walked up behind me.

True, I couldn't see him to know that it was him, but then, I didn't have to. I could feel his smug ego radiating off him.

He said nothing as he walked up so he was standing beside me, his eyes never straying from the setting sun in front of us. His hands were shoved in his front pockets. He'd removed his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his button-up shirt to his elbows, the jacket draped over his arm. His hair was still dark brown, his face still spotted with freckles, and his eyes were now hazel green. I was surprised he hadn't changed more of his appearance yet. I was even more surprised that he was still here.

The sky was lit up with a beautiful sunset over the clear blue ocean. No boats were in sight. There was a soft breeze and I couldn't help but notice how his hair blew lightly in it.

I was also painfully aware that this was practically a scene out of a romantic movie and it was leaving me with the urge to gag.

"I thought you left a week ago," I finally spoke, not bothering to look at him and keeping my gaze on the sunset.

"That was the plan," He replied.

I turned to look at him and he briefly glanced at me.

He shrugged. "Had some engine trouble," He said simply. "Noah took care of it."

I nodded and went back to staring out at the ocean. "Then I guess you'll be heading out soon."

I could see him nod out of the corner of my eye. "Yep. Just thought I'd come to say goodbye."

I snorted in disbelief. "Jackson Storm, you haven't grown to like me, have you?" I teased as I turned to face him completely.

An amused smile split his lips as he looked back at me. "Of course not. That would be quite foolish of me." He winked at me and I couldn't help but laugh.

I shook my head. "Good luck to you," I said as I gestured out at the sea. "Wherever you decide to go."

"I'm shocked," He said and I turned to look at him in confusion. There was a wicked smile on his lips. "That you actually wished me luck instead of wishing for my yacht to sink. My, my, you really have grown fond of me, haven't you?"

I couldn't help but smile back at him. "You may have grown on me," I replied mysteriously.

He laughed and continued to stare at me. "I am curious," He said. "What exactly will you be doing now?"

I tilted my head to the side as I stared at him. "And why's that? Hoping to swindle me out of something else, or simply blackmail me again the next time you see me?"

He shrugged and looked back out at the sunset. "On the run from your father for the rest of your life," He started then shrugged again. "just curious as to how you're taking it."

"I was prepared for this." I raised my eyebrows at him. "Although, he's going to be hunting you too."

Jackson smiled widely. "I'm used to being hunted down. It'll take nothing for me to avoid him. You on the other hand . . ."

I rolled my eyes. "I think we've established that I can handle myself."

He nodded silently. "That you can."

I nodded. "Well then," I said as I turned away. "I guess it's time we actually went our separate ways." I turned and waved as I started back toward the house. "Farwell, Storm."

I didn't turn back around as I walked off. Didn't say anything else. There was nothing else to say. I wasn't even sure what to say anyway. So maybe I cared for him more than I'd admit. But neither he, nor I, were in any place to actually be in a relationship. Especially not with each other.

Although-and he'd never ever hear me say this out loud-I was going to miss him and it was breaking my heart to walk away. But with all I knew about him and about his past, I didn't blame him. I wasn't angry that he didn't have room in his heart or life for me. Yes, I'd miss him. And yes, I'd mourn what could have been. But I would be okay because I had helped remove at least a little bit of that weight from his shoulders and he had reminded me not to take life too seriously.

He wasn't ready for a relationship, but then, neither was I. Plus, I figured it wasn't the best sign if I couldn't decide between ripping his clothes off or pushing him in front of a moving train. I was okay with this coming end. I didn't regret any part of it.

We'd part ways this time. Maybe for good. Maybe we'd see each other again. But I wasn't going to hold out hope. Somehow in dealing with the mess my father created, Jackson Storm had managed to give me my life back. A life I wanted to live. And I'd be forever grateful for that.

"I'm curious," Jackson called out before I could make it back to the house.

I turned to face him.

"You told Branson you owed me one," He said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "But what exactly do you think you owe me for?"

I smiled slightly and shook my head. "That's kind of personal," I told him.

He nodded his head but I could see that wicked glint in his eyes. "Not to compare," He said. "But I did tell you some very personal stories . . ."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I thought you were going to forever deny having that conversation."

Jackson smiled at me. "What conversation?"

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "I owed you one," I said. "because you gave me my life back. If only for a few months."

He frowned at me. "How so?"

I shrugged. "For years I was just kind of, going through the motions. Living the life my parents wanted for me. Being the perfect daughter. And I'm not going to lie, part of that was me, but it wasn't until you upended my life that actually got to be," I shrugged again. "me."

Then I fixed him with a narrow-eyed stare. "However the way in which you went about upending my life left much to be desired."

Jackson smiled slightly. "I did apologize."

I nodded. "And you are forgiven. Though sometimes I still think you need another punch."

"Or ten?" He questioned.

I smiled. "Or ten," I agreed with him. "Goodbye, Storm," I said softly as I turned away once more.

I walked back into my house through the backdoor. I didn't care if any of the FBI agents saw me entering the house, though usually, they were over by the front of the house, rather than the back. I tried my best not to look at anything too closely as I walked through the house. Everything was a painful reminder of what I'd just lost.

My dad was in jail. Kurt Branson was dead. And even though the charges on my mother had been dropped, she refused to talk to me since I was the one who turned my father in. Not that I was particularly jumping for joy to talk to her either.

My suitcase was never unpacked from before, so I just grabbed it, threw it on the bed, and began adding what little from my room I felt I should actually take with me. I was starting over after all. A new life. A new identity. I left all the pictures. Left all the jewelry. I left most of my personal items. Mostly I just added a few more clothing items and toiletries.

I closed my suitcase and began zipping it up. I stopped halfway, my mind wandering. I couldn't help it. I shook my head, trying to clear all thoughts of the past week of events from my head.

It would have been much easier, had Jackson Storm not decided he had to show up one more time.

The sound of my phone broke me out of my thoughts. I looked at the unknown number on the screen apprehensively before reminding myself that everyone who wanted to do me harm was currently dead or in jail. I answered.

"Tell me," His cocky voice filled my ear. "why do I feel like you're thinking about me?"

I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see me.

"Don't roll your eyes."

I shook my head. "Stop reading my mind. And don't flatter yourself either, I haven't given you a second thought."

"I'm wounded," He replied. "And I wasn't reading your mind. I was looking at you."

I frowned and looked out the window into the yard below. "What?" I questioned.

"Try behind you," His voice suddenly drifted to me.

I whirled around and lowered the phone when I realized he was leaning in the doorway of my room.

"What are you doing here? The FBI are watching this house. You should be leaving before they see you."

He shrugged.

I rolled my eyes again. "That explains a lot," I said sarcastically. I walked back over to my bed and finished zipping up my suitcase.

"What if it's not?" He suddenly said.

I stopped and looked over my shoulder at him. "Pardon?"

He shrugged again as he walked toward me. "What if it's not?" He repeated.

"What if it's not, what?"

He stopped in front of me, barely a foot away. "Time for us to go our separate ways."

I watched him carefully, waiting for him to explain, to say more. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled at me.

"I'm a much more seasoned traveler than you-"

"If we're talking about seasoned travel as in evading the law and people who want to kill you, then I agree."

He ignored my interruption and simply tapped my nose. "And I find I'm in need of a bodyguard . . . of sorts. Plus, having a woman along on a con can be very useful."

"So you just want to use me again, huh? Make a criminal out of me?" I raised my eyebrows. I decided I'd play along. "And what, do tell are the benefits to being your bodyguard?"

His smile got wider. "Well, you get to travel with me, which keeps anyone your father sends after you from finding you and of course you get the honor of guarding well, me."

I pasted a blank look over my face like I was seriously considering it before finally shaking my head slowly. "No thanks," I replied.

I turned back to my suitcase. I was stopped when his hand covered mine to keep me from continuing.

"I'll pay you . . . and it'll be fun. I promise," He said. I glanced down at his hand before looking at him. While the expression on his face was mostly unreadable, there was one thing I was able to pick up. Concern.

I couldn't help but smile slyly back at him. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were concerned about me. Trying to keep me with you to make sure I don't get killed."

He released his hold on my hand and took a step back from me, shaking his. A sexy kind of smile crossed his face. "I can assure you, that's not the reason I wish to keep you with me."

Liar. But I'd let him keep living in his denial.

I continued to smile. "I want a raise every time you put your hands on me."

His smile got wider as he took a step closer to me. "Just my hands?"

"Shut up already," I said.

I grabbed hold of his tie and pulled him down to me, smashing my lips against his. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me completely into him while his hands started to wander.

"I'll take that as a yes to bodyguard position," Jackson said when we finally pulled away.

"Yeah," I replied. "and you already owe me a raise."

He laughed before shaking his head. "You get a deduction every time you put your hands on me."

I rolled my eyes at him.

He tapped me on the nose again. "This is a little dysfunctional."

"Our entire relationship is a whole lot of dysfunctional," I told him.

He nodded and then threw his arm over my shoulders, pulling me into him and guiding me down the hall and out the door.

"You left my suitcase on the bed," I reminded him.

"You don't need anything," He said. "I prefer my bodyguards not to wear clothes."

"You're paying for all my new clothes," I told him, ignoring his comment.

He smiled down at me as we stepped out of the house. The next few minutes were filled with silence as we walked down the path to the private boat dock on the far side.

"How did you get onto the property without the FBI arresting you?" I asked him.

He smiled wickedly and pulled a small square of leather from his jacket pocket. He flipped it open to reveal a badge. "FBI Agent Ryder Stevenson, here to go over the premises once more looking for additional evidence."

I shook my head. "He and Damien are going to kill you if they ever find out."

"They can try," He told me as we walked across the dock. "I need a new challenge."

I stopped in my tracks as I caught sight of the name painted on the side of the yacht. "Are you kidding me?" I asked him.

He smiled widely. "What?" He questioned innocently. Though, his "innocence" looked more like deviousness.

I shook my head. "You really don't know how to do subtle, do you?"

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase, hiding in plain sight?"

"Yeah, but you're pushing the limits."

His new yacht, which I assumed previously hadn't had a name painted on it, now had one painted in swirling cursive letters and elegant fought. The name painted there, was Carver.

I shook my head. "I can't decide if I'm flattered or annoyed."

"You've got time to think it over," Noah's voice called out as he looked down at us from his place on the yacht. "I personally think I'd be annoyed," He added.

Jackson smiled at him. "Next yacht's going to have Hastings painted on it."

Noah scrunched up his nose. "And what exactly is going to happen to this one?"

"With him," I interjected as I pointed to Jackson. "There's no telling."

We stepped onto the yacht and Noah came up to me, giving me a hug. Then he pulled away quickly like was he embarrassed.

"I'm glad you're sticking around," He mumbled under his breath as he stared down at his shoes.

I winked at him. "We'll see how long it lasts."

Noah smiled at me.

"Besides," I said to him as I leaned in conspiratorially. "Someone has to watch his back when you can't. Make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

"True," Noah replied.

Jackson ignored both of us and took his place up at the helm. He gestured to the maps spread out on the table behind him.

His eyes sparkled in amusement. "Where to, Manipulative Bitch?"

I rolled my eyes but smiled back at him. "You tell me, Conniving Bastard."

If this were a movie, this would be the part where someone said, "and they lived happily ever after," but sometimes, two people don't have to fall head over heels in love with each other. If I was being honest, I didn't see Jackson in my far future, but he could be a piece of my life right now, and I'd have no regrets. And besides, I wasn't even sure if I loved Jackson. Sometimes I barely even liked him, but I figured there was no rush in us figuring out where we fit in each other's lives if at all.

But also, this wasn't a movie. And this wasn't happily ever after.

If I thought about it, I wasn't sure I believed there was such thing as happily ever after. After all, I didn't think any story was ever truly finished. It was only the chapters that ended. This was the end of another chapter in a story I had no control over.

Now maybe there was such thing as happily ever after, and maybe there wasn't. Maybe happily ever after wasn't in the cards for me. Maybe it was. But one thing was certain, as I said before, happily ever after is for stories that have finished. And this story . . . well . . .

This story, has only just begun.

Just pray I don't kill Jackson before it ends.

THE END

So, how do you all like the book?

Author's Note/Message Board post will be posted later.

Vote

Comment

Enjoy!

And Thanks for Reading!

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net