Crystal's POV

"Hurry up," I hissed as I looked over my shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time.

Jackson glared at me. "It's not my fault that this card reader is clearly defective," He said as he continued to insert the key card again and again, trying to get the door to open for him.

"Maybe it's not the card reader and just the card itself."

"Not a chance," Jackson replied as he began to fiddle with the card reader. "Noah said the card would work and he's never wrong."

"Operator error then."

This got another glare out of Jackson.

"The little green light keeps flashing but the door won't open," He muttered as he began to jiggle the handle.

"Well, maybe it's locked from the inside."

"And what, Branson climbed out the window?"

I shrugged and leaned back against the wall. Jackson continued to fiddle with both the handle and the card reader.

I rolled my eyes and snatched the card out of his hands as he tried for what must have been the millionth time to get the door open. "Let me try."

"Be my guest," He said as he gave a dramatic sweep of his arms and stepped out of the way.

I smiled sweetly at him, and then brought my foot up and kicked at the door handle. It popped open with a bang and hit the wall. I then swept my arms out dramatically and stepped out of the way the same way he had done. "After you," I said.

He gave me a deadpan look. "I could have done that."

"And instead, you opted to waste a half an hour trying to get the card to read properly."

Jackson narrowed his eyes at me before stepping into the room. "I was trying not to leave any trace."

"The door was loose enough that I didn't even damage it," I told him as I shut the door behind me after I'd walked in. "And if you had looked closely, there were already footmarks in the door. Evidently, Branson felt the same way about messing with the card reader as I did."

"Well, considering the company you two keep is pretty much the same, no wonder you think alike."

I glared at him. "Tell me, mind reader," I said sarcastically. "What am I thinking right now?"

"You're mentally cursing me out for taking your gun since it means you can't shoot me right now."

My eyes narrowed further at him and he didn't even have to turn back in my direction for me to know he was smiling smugly. The smugness was coming off him in waves.

"What exactly are we looking for?" I asked him as he started pulling open drawers and flipping through stacks of paper on the table in the entryway.

"Anything that can be of use to us," Jackson replied simply as he continued his search.

I stood still and watched him.

He noticed. "Are you going to be of any help?"

"You had to blackmail me to get me this far, so what do you think?"

Jackson shot me a deadpan look before venturing further into the room.

I shook my head. "I still don't understand exactly what we're looking for."

He shrugged, his back to me as he continued opening drawers. "It's complicated."

I glared at the back of his head. "It wouldn't be if you just told me."

He shrugged again. "Mostly, I'm trying to confirm that this is his room."

I stopped in my tracks and didn't continue to follow him as he made his way into the bathroom. "Are you kidding me?" I growled. "You take me with you to break into a room and you don't even know if you have the right room!"

Jackson shot me a flirtatious smile. "Well Jessica assured me this was the right room . . . but it is possible I misheard the number . . . or name."

"And why is that?"

"Well the talking was . . . minimal."

I groaned and rubbed a hand down my face.

"Who's room are you looking for?"

Jackson froze and I whirled around to face the person who had spoken.

The bedroom doors were open, leading out to a large balcony overlooking the beach below. And on that balcony, a lounge chair with a young woman relaxed in it and reading a book. Completely unfazed by the fact that two people had broken into her room.

She didn't even turn her head to look at us. She just turned a page in her book and reached over to the table next to her, picking up a drink.

I couldn't see her entirely from where I was. The back of the lounge chair faced us and all I could make out was her long blonde hair that she had draped over the back of the chair, her bare legs spread out on the lounge chair, and the light pink sheer sleeves of her cover she had on.

My eyes began scanning the room for anything that could be used as a weapon, while Jackson-overconfident idiot that he was-stood straight and tall and took a few steps closer to the balcony doors.

"Kurt Branson," He told her as if it was completely normal to have a conversation with someone who's room you just broke into.

I could see the back of her head bob up and down from her seat. "Yes," She said. "you have the right room." She still didn't turn around to look at either one of us and continued reading her book. Apparently, people break into her room all the time.

"Let's get out of here," I whispered to Jackson as I grabbed hold of his arm and tried to pull him after me. Fun fact about Jackson, he suddenly becomes a metal pole encased in concrete when he doesn't want to move.

"So," He continued talking to her and I felt like pulling out my hair in frustration . . . and then his. "you must be Mrs. Branson."

She laughed and it was light and airy, completely at odds with how I was currently feeling about getting caught breaking into a killer's room.

"I do believe the name on our reservation is under is Mr. and Mrs. Brown" Her voice was full of amusement as she spoke. "But I'm sure you already knew that."

"Well Mrs. Brown," Jackson said. "is there any chance I can get you to ignore our intrusion and not mention it to your husband?"

She waved a hand over her shoulder dismissively, her sole focus still on her book. "The way I see it," She replied. "if he doesn't ask, he doesn't need to know."

Jackson turned to me with a wide smile. "I like her," He told me.

"Good for you," I said sarcastically. "You can seduce her into leaving him later, now that we know this is his room let's get out of here before she decides to, oh I don't know, call him."

He let out an overdramatic sigh. "I suppose you're right." He turned away from the balcony. "Farewell Mrs. Brown."

She gave a finger wave over her shoulder, still not even bothering to turn and look at the two people who just broke into her room. There was something very wrong with her.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to see a text from Damien on the screen. I opened it up and swore as I read it.

"What?" Jackson questioned.

"Branson just got on the elevator," I told him. "He's coming up."

Jackson didn't say anything and then just shrugged.

I looked at him in bewilderment. "Need I remind you that you got rid of my weapon, there's a professional killer on his way up here, the room is right next to the elevators and when he gets off he's either going to see us walking away from the room or stepping out of it."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. "Yeah, I know." He looked over my shoulder at something and then turned back to the woman. Before he could even open his mouth to ask her whatever he hand intended to ask her, she spoke.

"The closest is mostly empty. Though it'll be a tight fit," She said as she flipped a page in her book.

I glared at her. "And what's stopping you from telling him we're in there?"

"Absolutely nothing," She replied.

Jackson grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me toward the closest. "We don't have a choice."

"I'll pitch myself off the balcony, at this point," I told him.

The handle to the door of the room suddenly began to jiggle.

"Time's up," Jackson said as he threw open one of the doors to the closest and shoved me in first before moving in next to me and pulling the door closed. He shut the door to the closest just as the door to the room was kicked open.

The doors to the closet we were currently jammed in, were made of several wooden slats going across the entire door. So, we could see out through the slats, but only a little bit.

My breath caught in my throat as he walked into the room swearing.

I must have stiffened up. Must have sucked in a sharp breath. Maybe unconsciously pressed myself closer to him. Or maybe it was because he could actually read minds, but he seemed to be able to tell that I was scared even though I was trying my damn hardest not to show it, because with what little room there was in the closest, he positioned himself just slightly in front of me, and interlaced his fingers between mine.

I had never been introduced to Branson by my father. He liked to keep his business away from me, I had found out. And Branson had never scared me. Not when I saw him meeting with my father multiple times. Not even after I had learned of all he had done and all he was capable of. I had always seen him from a distance. Never excepted-never planned-on being this close to him.

Never expected to be breaking into his room with Jackson Storm of all people, with a woman who could tell him exactly where we were at any given moment.

Least of all, if I had ever gotten it in my head to go up to him at all, I never would have thought I'd do it without a weapon.

Jackson Storm might have been offering me comfort right now, but I was going to kill him if we made it out of this.

"We really need to call the front desk and get that door fixed," Branson said as he walked over to the open balcony doors.

"Mrs. Brown" as Jackson had called her, set down her book down, but didn't turn to him. "I called them this morning," She told him. "They said the best they can do is get us another room right now."

I could barely see him shake his head from between the slats. "That won't do," He muttered.

He held up something, but I couldn't make out what it was. "Got you something," He said.

She pushed to her feet, her blonde hair falling down her back and the sheer pink cover she was wearing over her swimsuit seemed to almost float around her.

"You are the best," She said as she took whatever it was from him.

"Anything interesting happen while I was out?"

I looked over at Jackson's face, but he was totally focused on Branson.

I turned away to watch as she turned and looked directly at the closest for a brief moment. "A couple of people stopped by looking for you," She said.

That bitch! I let out a soft gasp, Jackson's hand holding mine tightened as if in silent reassurance.

"Yeah?" Branson said. "Who were they?"

I could just barely make out her shrug. "Said they had that order you wanted," She replied.

He clapped his hands together. "Ah yes," He said. "It's about time. You get their information?"

She picked up a note pad off a small table and held it out to him. "Of course."

I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. So she hadn't been talking about us.

He walked over to her with outstretched arms. He took the notepad from her and set it back on the table. "You Love, are wonderful." He took her hand in his and kissed it.

She walked around him, mostly blocked by his figure. "What are the plans for today?"

"I still have a few more meetings I need to attend," He told her as he placed his hand on her waist. "But I have some free time now . . ." He trailed off as he leaned into her.

I mentally gagged and turned away, only to lock eyes with Jackson who immediately began to waggle his eyebrows. I shot him a deadpan look.

Was he being serious right now?

She let out a laugh, and it sounded like something out of a storybook, light and airy. Actually, from what I had seen of her, she looked like something out of a storybook.

"As much as I like that idea," She replied. "You haven't showered in like two days. Take one," She told him and began to walk away.

His hand shot out and grabbed hold of her wrist. "Join me," He told her.

She let out a sigh like it was such a hard choice for her. "If you insist," She teased.

Jackson and I watched as he walked into the bathroom, with her following behind, but just before she closed the door behind the two of them, she looked back at the closest, and I swear she looked right at me. She winked and then shut the door.

I let out a shaky breath, somehow comforted by the fact that there was now a flimsy wooden door between us and them.

Jackson waited a moment before pushing open the closest door and stepping out, pulling me after him, his hand still interlaced in mine. He didn't say anything to me until after we got out of the room and stepped onto the elevator.

"See, now wasn't that fun?" He asked me.

I was feeling sick, the adrenaline that had flooded my system in my panic draining out of me.

"I'm never going anywhere with you ever again," I told him.

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back. He looked back down at me with a smile on his face and waggled his eyebrows at me once again.

I shook my head, and maybe it was my nerves and the fact that I felt like we just got out of a life-threatening situation, but I ended up smiling back at him and laughing along with him.

"I really do hate you," I told him. "Conniving Bastard."

His smile got wider. "Whatever you say, Manipulative Bitch."

He looked down and seemed to just notice that our hands were still joined. He immediately let go of me and shoved his hand in his pocket. I pretended not to notice. He continued to smile at me.

"What room do you want to break into next?" He asked me.

"My own."

"Can I join you?"

"You better not."

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