Catching the Storm

47. Answers

Crystal's POV

I choked.

And then continued choking as I shot him a look of complete and utter disbelief. Because there was no way the words that just came out of his mouth were true.

Jackson rolled his eyes. "A bit overdramatic," He said to me. "Don't you think?"

"You?" I finally managed to say once I cleared my throat. "You were a cop?"

Jackson just nodded. "I was. Once."

"What the fuck happened?"

Jackson laughed and then smiled at me. "Babe, you really have a way with words." He shook his head. "Surprised?" He asked me. "That I was once on the straight and narrow?"

"Surprise doesn't even begin to cover it. Of course, that's only if you're telling the truth."

His face suddenly turned very solemn as he stared out into the distance. "Ella was my partner. Both in the department and in my personal life." His hand reached up and he began playing with the rings on the end of the chain around his neck. "She saw something in me that no one else did."

He let out a sigh and dropped the rings, opting to run a hand through his wet hair instead. "I was a . . . problem child. Constantly running away from home, constantly hanging out with . . . well, I was going to say the wrong crowd but I was the wrong crowd. I could get away with just about whatever I wanted. When I turned eighteen, my parents finally had enough of me. Kicked me out of the house. Told me they never wanted to see me again. Ella and her parents allowed me to stay with them."

I looked at him when he didn't continue. "And how did you become a cop?"

"Ella's uncle was the chief of police at that particular department," He told me. "He got me a job there. I think they all figured it would straighten me out."

"And did it?"

This got a wicked smile out of him and he turned to look at me. "Not a chance." He suddenly grew quiet again. "But Ella did. She made me want to be a better person. She was my world." He blew out a sigh. "Turns out I was good at it. Being a cop. I was really good at getting people to talk to me. Really good at undercover work. I ended up getting promoted very fast. And then it all went to shit."

I stared at him as he looked down at the floor in front of him. His jaw clenched and unclenched, his hands turning to fists at his sides. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, seeming to try and compose himself. And this was probably the only time I'd seen him showing any emotion that wasn't scripted.

"We were working a case together. A case that no other cop wanted to touch. It was against a very powerful person and every time anyone ever came up with evidence against him or started building a case, he'd cut them down."

I didn't have to ask. I knew who he was talking about. I turned away from him, feeling ashamed even though this was not my fault. "My father," I whispered.

I could see him nod out of the corner of my eye.

"It would start with a warning. He'd tell you to back off. Then there'd be a second warning, but that warning would involve hurting someone. And finally, if you still didn't back off people would get killed." He shook his head again. "I should have listened to first warning," He muttered. "He told us to back off. He said we'd regret it if we didn't. Ella listened, she backed off. And she begged me to do the same." He turned away again.

He didn't have to say the next words, I could guess them myself. "You didn't though," I said softly. "You didn't back off."

His entire body went tense, but not because of what I said, but because of what memories it clearly brought back. "We were close. Closer than anyone had ever been to bringing him down. I thought I could do it before anyone got hurt. I was so wrong." He closed his eyes. "Your father never did his own dirty work. Instead, he sent Kurt Branson to do it for him. But he wasn't supposed to kill her. He was just supposed to rough her up, to send me a message."