Crystal's POV

"How do you even know Marrek?" Damien questioned me when I got back into the room. I noticed both Jackson and Noah were gone while Julie appeared to be trying to get into Noah's computer. And if her colorful language was any indication, it wasn't happening.

I shrugged as I turned my attention to Damien. "Met him in a bar."

Damien looked at me in total confusion. "A bar?" He questioned. "And he just happened to approach you?"

"I approached him, actually," I told him.

"Doesn't seem like your type."

I shrugged. "Not really, no" I agreed.

Damien shot me a flat look and crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you going to elaborate or not?"

I let out a sigh and sat down in one of the armchairs, wincing slightly, my body still sore. "I met Marrek after he'd gotten out of a meeting with my father."

"Your father?" Damien questioned with a frown.

I nodded. "Yep," I replied. "He wanted to hire Marrek for some his more . . . questionable business practices. I mean it's understandable," I said. "He's a former Navy Seal and built like a mountain. My father offered him millions, to work for him."

"So Marrek works for your father," Damien said with a shake of his head.

"Nope," I told him. "My father made him the offer and Marrek's exact words were, 'Go fuck yourself'. And when my father then questioned Marrek, asking if he knew who he was, Marrek said, 'Absolutely and I stand by what I said'."

Damien just stood there staring at me in shock, like he couldn't believe that that had actually happened.

I waved my hand dismissively. "Anyway," I said. "my father made some threats. Marrek told him to go to hell, something about there was nothing he could take away from him since he didn't have anything and he wasn't that easy to kill." I shook my head. "And then he asked the doorman where the best place to get a drink was, and I followed him. I figured anyone who could stand against my father like that was someone I wanted to be friends with." I shrugged. "Not that Marrek and I are actually friends. He's kind of an asshole."

"I noticed," Damien replied flatly.

I shrugged again. "But he's been useful." I turned to Julie. "Jackson or Noah say where they were going?"

Julie shook her head. "They were both speaking to each other about the yacht, then the conversation veered to Mrs. Rat, then they were discussing Branson," She threw hands up in the air. "And then they just walked out together. Hey, what do you think Noah's password is?"

The timing couldn't have been more perfect, because Noah pushed open the door right after she said that and saw the computer in her lap.

He scowled at her. "Don't touch my things."

I nodded my head at him. "Where's Jackson?"

"Downstairs on the deck," Noah said. "Sitting in a lounge chair."

"Doing what exactly?"

Noah shrugged. "Having a drink? Relaxing? The usual."

I shook my head and pushed to my feet. "I need to talk to him."

"About what?" Julie questioned.

I let out a sigh. "About what the hell he's planning our next move to be." I walked toward the door. "And see what you can find on Mrs. Branson while I'm gone."

"Like what?" Julie asked.

I shrugged. "Like anything. We know nothing about her. The more we know the better," I said.

Noah nodded his agreement, though he looked a little fearful, likely remembering what she was capable of. He suddenly frowned though, deep in thought for a moment.

"She was burned," He said.

I nodded. "Yeah," I replied. "she was."

"Yes," He said as he looked around frantically for a moment before glaring at Julie once again and snatching the computer from her lap. "but she was healing," He said as he looked at me. "The scars on her face were bright pink, and the rest of her arm, neck, and shoulder was completely bandaged up. She's likely still been having surgeries, physical therapy, and-"

"Get to the point," Julie said.

Noah didn't even seem fazed by her interruption and continued to look at me, seemingly forgetting anyone else was in the room. "She has to still be going to the hospital and their cybersecurity is shit. I can narrow down the hospitals around here based on the specialized care she'll need. Then, I can hack their patient records and find her."

"Not a bad idea," I told him. "but she'll probably be using a fake name."

Noah shrugged. "But we'll be closer than we were before."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Damien said. "You said she has burns all up her arm?"

"Well . . ." Noah started. "She had burns on her face for sure," He said. "the rest of her arm was in bandages so . . . couldn't actually tell. I just assumed."

A muscle in Damien's jaw ticked.

"You know something we don't?" I questioned him.

Damien narrowed his eyes as he stared at the floor, working something out in his head. "I think, I might." He said simply. "And I also think I really need to get a hold of my partner," He said as he pulled out his phone and stepped out onto the balcony.

We all looked between each other.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Julie asked.

I shrugged. "Noah, follow up with your idea," I said. "And one of you call me if Damien comes up with anything."

I found Jackson right where Noah said he'd be. Lying out on a lounge chair, eyes closed, a drink on the table next to him, hands tucked behind his head, wearing a short-sleeve button-up white shirt, a pair of blue swim trunks, and a pair of sandals.

I stood in front of his chair and looked down at him in annoyance. "You are unbelievable," I muttered.

"And you are blocking my sun," Jackson replied.

"Branson's so-called wife knows who you are-"

"I'm aware."

"-tried to have Noah and me killed-"

"I'm also aware of that."

"And you decide the best move is to lie out here on the deck, in the middle of the resort where anyone can see you, and work on your tan?"

"Spray tans aren't as good as the natural thing," Jackson informed me. "Also," He said as he finally opened his eyes to look at me. "if Branson knew anything, he'd have already made a move. Now if you'd please." He gestured for me to move out of the way.

I glared at him as I took a seat on the lounge chair next to him. He smiled, tucked his hand back behind his head, and closed his eyes once again.

"You are infuriating."

He shrugged. "What you think of me matters not. Now, what's our next move?"

I looked at him blankly. "And you haven't come up with a move because . . .?"

He waved a hand at me dismissively. "Because I'm not the one with the SD card on Branson."

"I'm looking into his darling wife," I told him.

He shook his head, eyes still closed, still refusing to look at me. "I don't care about her."

"Well, I do," I responded. "I will remind you again that she nearly killed me."

"She did kill you," Jackson said. "If we're getting technical."

I shot him a deadpan look. Not that he noticed. "Yeah," I said. "so it's a little personal."

He let out a breath of annoyance. "Exactly my point," He said. "It's personal to you. I don't care. I want Branson."

I glared at him, anger flaring up inside me. "Yeah, well I don't think you're going to get anywhere near him with psycho wife in the picture."

Jackson once again waved a hand at me dismissively. "Fine, I'll take care of it."

"How are you going to take care-"

"Babe, trust me," Jackson cut me off.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm going to need more than a trust me. I want to know your plan here."

"It's on a need to know basis and you-"

"Need to know."

"Trust me," He said, opening up his eyes, winking at me, and flashing that stupid smug smile of his. "On some level you already do, so just roll with it. None of this works without trust."

I narrowed my eyes at him threateningly. "No," I said. "You know what Jackson-"

"What?"

"You keep telling me to trust you and you're right I've been trusting you blindly for most of this mission of yours. You refuse to tell me anything about why you're after Branson. You refuse to tell me anything about Branson period. You ask me to walk blindly into these situations with you that put me at risk and I have been. And let's be honest, what do I really know about you? Other than that you're a conniving bastard."

He placed a hand over his heart, like I fatally wounded him. "That hurts, you know," He said.

"I'm about two seconds from hitting you."

"Just don't block my sun."

I watched him closely as he picked up his drink, took a sip, and then set it back down. "Do you ever take anything seriously?" I asked him.

"Thankfully, no. What a boring life that would be."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Doesn't trust go both ways?" I asked him.

"I've heard that saying before. Frankly, I never saw the appeal of it."

"Of course, you don't."

He smiled at me and waggled his eyebrows. "Can I get you a drink?"

I blew out a sigh and looked at him out of the corner of my eye before shrugging. "Why not," I muttered. "it's not like this day could get any worse."

"That's the spirit!" Jackson said enthusiastically as he waved down a server.

The server came back literally seconds later and placed a drink down on the small table between us.

I narrowed my eyes at him once more. "You already had this drink on standby," I stated.

"Did I?"

"You knew I'd be coming down to talk to you."

"You're awfully predictable," He pointed to the drink. "That's your favorite wine by the way."

I eyed him skeptically before taking a sip of the wine and realizing that it was, indeed, my favorite wine. I leaned back in the chair. "And how do you know that?"

"I know just about everything about you."

I didn't like that. Didn't like that he knew what he did about me. It bothered me because I didn't know those things about him. Sure I knew his personality. His thought process. I pretty much could guess what he'd say the moment he got that stupid flirtatious glint in his eyes. I knew he was cocky, knew he was flirtatious, knew that he took absolutely nothing seriously, that he was much smarter than he liked to lead you to believe, that he could be deceptively charming, and that he would do just about anything to get his way.

So really, I knew a lot about Jackson Storm as a person, and yet nothing about him personally. I didn't know his favorite drink, I didn't know his favorite color, I didn't know his real name, I didn't know his age, hell I didn't even know what he actually looked like.

"And I know very little about you," I said. "which is funny since you keep telling me to trust you."

"You really are not going to let this go. Fine," Jackson said as he pushed off the lounge chair and instead stood against the railing of the deck. He held out his arms and smiled widely. "Ask me anything. One question, and I'll answer it honestly."

I looked at him in surprise. "Seriously?" I questioned, actually a little excited for this. "You'll answer it honestly? You swear?"

"I give you my word," He said with a smug smile.

I leaned back in the chair I was seated in and studied him with narrowed eyes. "Why are you so smug?" I questioned him.

He shrugged, smile still in place. "Because I know what you're going to ask."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You know what I'm going to ask?" I repeated and he nodded. "Okay then," I said to him. "tell me, mind reader, what am I going to ask?"

"You're going to ask me who I really am," He said. "You're going to ask me for my name."

I looked at him and realized, he was right. Or rather, he would have been right.

If he'd given me the opportunity to ask one question and get an honest answer out of him when I'd first stepped on the yacht, after Damien had shown up, before we'd checked in to this hotel, or even just before he'd been drugged, that would have been the question I'd ask him. That would have been the question I wanted answered. True, I still wanted an answer to that question but if I was only getting one question, there was something else I wanted answered.

I looked at him carefully as he looked down at me, that smug smile still in place and I asked the one question that had been on my mind since the night he'd been drugged.

"Who's Ella?"

The smile was gone faster than I could blink. His whole body tensed up and he just froze in place, staring at me like he couldn't have heard me right. Like he was hoping he'd heard me wrong. And at some point, his eyes seemed to glaze over like he was no longer looking at me but looking through me

"Where-" He started to say only to cut off when the words came out hoarse and breathless. "Where did you hear that name?"

"From you," I said as I watched him, pushing to my feet and standing a distance behind him.

He shook his head, finally tearing his eyes away from me, and instead turned out toward the beach, his hands fisted on the railing of the deck, knuckles turning white. "I never said that name to you," He said, his voice quiet but firm.

"The night you were drugged," I said. "before you fell asleep you mentioned the name, Ella," I said and he tensed up once again, refusing to turn and look at me. "Who is she?" I repeated.

He pushed himself back from the railing. "This conversation is over," He said as he shoved past me, heading for the door back into the hotel.

"You told me you'd answer one question-"

"Not," He interrupted me. "that question."

"You gave me your word," I called out to him and he stopped in the doorway. "Or does the word of Jackson Storm not mean anything?"

His back was to me, his head bowed, but he didn't continue on. He stood still in the doorway until finally, he turned toward me, reaching a hand up and unbuttoning one of the top buttons of his shirt. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a gold chain, hooking his thumb through it and holding it out for me to see what was dangling from the end of it.

Two golden rings. One slightly larger than the other, but I recognized them for what they truly were.

"Those are wedding rings," I whispered.

He kept his head bowed, his hair falling into his eyes so I couldn't see his face.

"Ella is-" He started to say only to stop himself. "-was . . . my world." He looked up and locked eyes with me, and there was a pain in his eyes and on his face that even he couldn't hide. "And that's all I'm going to say on the matter." He turned and walked into the hotel, disappearing from sight.

And I was left realizing that even though I had thought I'd had him figured out at least a little, I really did not know Jackson Storm. Not at all.

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