Crystal's POV

I moved toward Noah and grabbed his arm, moving him further into the room and away from the open doorway. "Stay there and stay quiet," I said as I pushed him toward a corner. I walked over to the door as quietly as possible and then gently and slowly began to close it, keeping my ear pressed against it the whole time, trying to hear anything of what was being said.

"What do you hear?" Noah asked.

"Shh," I hissed at him as I kept the door open only a couple of inches, still trying to hear anything.

"How far out are we supposed to be going?" I heard a man's voice question.

"Not sure," Another voice responded. "Far enough out that the waters will be deep enough. Now help me move the crates."

I peaked out from the doorway, watching as two men moved in view of the hallway for a moment as they passed by. I ducked back completely out of sight as they passed.

Noah moved to kneel down next to me. "What are we going to do?"

I looked around the room, there was nowhere to go. It was just an extra bedroom and we were too far down on the yacht. We needed to be up higher. There were two windows in this room and both were roughly the size of a dinner plate. We weren't getting out that way.

"You really don't have a clue where Jackson could have stashed my gun?" I questioned Noah.

He shook his head, looking more and more worried by the second. "No," He whispered. "Though I really wish I questioned it now."

I looked around the room for anything that could be used as a weapon, but this room was practically empty with the exception of what was in the cabinets and drawers. And nothing in there could be used as a weapon.

"Does Jackson have any guns of his anywhere?" I asked Noah.

"He doesn't have any guns at all."

"Why the hell not?"

"He doesn't like them."

I felt like throwing my hands up in the air in frustration. "How has he lived his long?"

Noah just shrugged.

A light bulb suddenly went off in my head and Noah seemed to notice.

"What?" He asked me.

"The sat phone," I muttered.

"What?" Noah repeated.

"The satellite phone Marrek gave me, it's still on the yacht. It's in the master bedroom."

"How is that going to help us?"

"Calling for help is our best option," I said as I moved to the door and once again began to open it. I turned back to Noah. "Unless you have a better idea."

Noah let out a sigh and shook his head.

I pulled open the door and looked out into the hallway. "Then come on," I told him. "and stay close."

We moved quickly down the hallway to the door at the end of it and then slipped inside unnoticed. I quickly ran to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer, removing the sat phone. I powered it on and then immediately dialed Damien's number.

I waited as it rang and then cursed him out when it went to voicemail. "Are you kidding me?" I hissed into the phone. "Since when do you not have your phone on you? Damien, we need help. Now. We're on the yacht, it's being hijacked, and . . ." I trailed off as I noticed something through one of the small windows. "and . . . apparently we're about to go down with the yacht," I said. "Lovely."

"What?!" Noah questioned as he moved to stand in front of me and stare out the window at the two motorboats speeding alongside the yacht.

I hung up the phone and pointed to motorboats. "You don't bring extra boats out with one unless you're planning on getting attacked or if you're planning on leaving one of the boats behind and need another boat to leave on."

"Why would they leave the yacht behind?" Noah questioned as he turned to look at me.

I gave him a flat look. "Because they're going to sink it. They're sending a message."

"But we're on board!"

"Even if they knew that I doubt they'd give a damn!"

"They might not be sinking it . . ." Noah mumbled. "They could have other plans."

The yacht suddenly came to an abrupt halt and both Noah and I fell, crashing to the floor. I groaned and rubbed at my shoulder. I pushed to my feet and once again looked out the window to notice that one of the motorboats was pulled up alongside the yacht, and the passengers were passing off crates . . . of explosives.

Noah looked like he was about to piss himself.

I handed him the sat phone. "Call Jackson, try and see if you can get through to him."

He nodded shakily and took the phone from me, punching in the numbers. He held it to his ear, still staring out the window. Finally, he removed the phone from his ear. "No answer, it's going to voicemail."

I took the phone from his hand and held it up to my ear just in time to hear the beep for leaving a message. "I'm going to kill you, Storm. This is entirely your fault. I hope you have a way of tracking your yacht otherwise the whole thing's going to blow up, along with Noah and me. A little help would be nice you-"

I nearly dropped the phone as the door to the room was suddenly opened and a very confused and well-armed man walked in.

"Oh shit," I muttered just he reached for his gun.

I charged him, dropping the phone, the only thought on my mind was making sure he could not get a shot off and alert everyone else that there we were on the yacht. I wrapped my hand around his wrist and slammed it into the doorway once, twice, and then the gun dropped and I kicked it further into the room.

His fist made contact with the side of my face and I fell to the ground on my hands and knees, shaking my head to try and clear the sudden dizziness. Something-which I'm assuming was his booted foot-slammed into my stomach and I let out a gasp as I struggled to catch my breath. I fell to my side, my arms wrapping around my stomach in pain.

Something shattered, glass falling around me on the ground and I looked up just and Noah began backing away from the man, the remains of a broken wine bottle in his hands.

I jumped to my feet just as he threw Noah into the wall behind him. I swung my leg around and it collided with his side.

He turned back to me and threw a punch which I ducked under by diving to the floor, toward the gun that had previously been discarded. My ankle was grabbed and I kicked out with my other foot, catching him in the knee. I rolled to my feet again as he threw another punch and I dodged it once more. This time however I grabbed hold of his wrist with one hand, holding it out, and then moved in close and slammed my elbow into the side of his head.

I then let go of his wrist while he clutched at the side of his head and moved behind him, locking my arm around his neck. He swore and slammed his body back into the wall, crushing me between the wall and him, but I didn't let go.

He continued to try and throw me off, slamming me into the wall again and again until finally, I could feel his body start to weaken as he was losing consciousness. I held on even as he fell to his knees and only let go when he was finally face down on the floor.

I placed my hands on my knees and took several deep breaths. Noah looked from him and then to me from where he was sitting on the floor after being thrown into the wall.

"Is he dead?" Noah questioned.

I found I couldn't speak as I was still trying to catch my breath, so I just shook my head instead. I pointed to the gun on the floor. "Hand . . . hand that to me," I muttered breathlessly.

I glared down at the unconscious man on the floor and took the gun from Noah as he handed it to me. I pulled out the magazine and checked the number of bullets before reloading the gun and holding it loosely at my side.

"If we live through this," I grumbled as I wiped blood from my mouth. "I'm going to kill Storm."

"I'll help," Noah muttered.

I smiled at him and grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him out of the room. "Stay behind me," I told him as I raised the gun in front of me with both hands and walked cautiously forward.

I moved quickly into the hallway and as soon as I noticed it was clear I motioned for Noah to follow quickly behind me. We ran down the hallway, with me in the lead. I paused just before the ladder leading up a level before slowly making my way up, gun at the ready, and looking in every direction as quickly as possible.

"Hurry," I said when I noticed it was clear and moved out of the way for Noah to follow. We once again ran down the next empty hallway, making our way to the doorway into the lounge and I stopped to look cautiously around before going in.

"I don't see anyone," Noah whispered.

I shook my head. "Neither do I," I said as I once again raised the gun. "Let's move, quickly."

"And then what?" Noah questioned. "We just jump off into the water and swim to shore? We're like miles away now."

"Our best bet is just getting off this yacht," I reminded him. "Since you know, they intend to sink it and we don't want to be stuck in it when they do."

"Can't you just like, take them all out?" Noah questioned me.

I glanced at him over my shoulder. "Two motorboats full of well-armed men, plus however many more are on this boat, all the while trying to keep the yacht from exploding? I'm flattered you think I'm that good but I'm not."

"But they don't know we're here, so we can surprise them."

"I have one gun," I reminded him. "And not nearly enough bullets for that."

"Well can you disarm the explosives?" Noah asked.

I looked at him in disbelief. "I will remind you, I'm a model, not a bomb technician."

Noah rolled his eyes. "Yes," He said, sarcasm dripping from his words. "because you are so clearly just a model."

"Now is not the time for this," I hissed. "Stay close to me, just because the deck looks clear doesn't mean it is," I told him as I stared through all the wide windows out onto the seemingly empty deck. "Now let's go."

"Wait," Noah said as he grabbed hold of my shoulder. "Do you scuba dive?"

I turned to look at him in utter bewilderment. "What?"

"Just answer the question," Noah said.

"Yes," I replied. "Though I haven't done it a while. Why?"

"Jackson keeps scuba equipment on the yacht. In the storage closet."

I nodded, now understanding where this was going. "So we can either leave unnoticed or just hang around until help gets here."

Noah nodded. "Exactly."

"Where is the storage closet?" I questioned.

"On the lower back deck of the yacht," Noah replied. "The quickest way there is across the deck," He said as he pointed out the windows in front of us. "But that's also where they'd be anchoring one of the motorboats to load up and get off this yacht."

I swore and rubbed a hand down my face, trying to think over our options. I shook my head. "Well we don't really have a choice," I said as I looked at him.

He looked worried and scared but he nodded anyway, agreeing with me.

"You stay behind me and if anyone starts shooting at us you take cover," I told him. "Understand?"

He nodded seriously. "Yeah," he whispered and I could see the fear in his eyes.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "We'll be fine, okay?" I told him.

He nodded but I could tell he didn't believe me.

I sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly before once again holding the gun in front of me and moving quickly across the lounge to the doors leading onto the deck.

I motioned for Noah to pull open the door and once he had, I moved out first, gun still raised, looking around for anything or anyone I might have missed. And evidently, I did miss someone standing behind the staircase leading to the upper deck, because the moment I walked around it an elbow flew into my face, a hand ripped the gun away from me, causing it to clatter across the deck.

I struck out at the person who had struck me and my arm was grabbed. I was pulled forward until my chest was up against the person's back. Before I had a chance to do anything, I was pulled forward once again as they dropped to their knees, effectively throwing me over them and onto the hard floors of the deck.

I landed on my back, pain flooding through my entire body, struggling to breathe, the gun right next to me but when I shot my hand out to grab it, a heeled shoe stomped on my wrist painfully and I couldn't help but let out a shout of pain. And then she was leaning down as I looked up at her.

She picked up the gun from the floor and tucked it into the waistband of her white slacks, removing her foot from my wrist as she stood up once again, leaving me lying on the floor in pain.

"Nice to see you again, Crystal Carver," She said as she smiled down at me.

I glared up at her as I pushed myself into a sitting position and it took everything in me not to groan in pain. "Mrs. Branson," I said dryly. "Only that's not really your name," I grumbled. "So tell me, who are you really?"

"Me?" She questioned with a wide smile on her face. "I'm a neutral party."

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