Catching the Storm

39. The Word of A Conman

Crystal's POV

I locked the door to our hotel room behind us as we walked in. I really wanted to move the couch up in front of the door . . . but I was too tired to do so.

I was exhausted and yet wide awake at the same time. My body was telling me to rest because I would need it. My mind was telling me not to sleep. To be on high alert because Branson was still out there and now he'd seen our faces.

Maybe that should have bothered me more than it did, but I was honestly too distracted to care. And besides, he'd never actually gotten a good look at either one of us. Since most the time we were dodging his attacks, or being thrown into furniture and walls.

I pressed my head against the door and let out a groan. I was exhausted, yes. Scared too. And I'd nearly died today . . . again. All because of Jackson Storm.

"Need a drink?" Jackson asked from behind me.

I turned to glare at him.

"I'll take that as a no," He muttered.

"You're so full of shit," I said.

Jackson rolled his eyes. "Here we go again," He said. "Do tell exactly what you're on about this time."

I glared at him. "Trust me."

He let out another sigh. "In my defense, I had pictured this turning out differently."

"You nearly got me killed-"

"That's a bit of an over-exaggeration."

"-and Branson has now had a look at me-"

"Considering you were being thrown around I doubt very much he got a good look at you."

"-and what exactly is keeping his darling wife from keeping her mouth shut about who we are now?"

"To be fair," Jackson said. "I did say I'd take care of her and I have."

"For how long though?"

Jackson waved away my concern. "I'll come up with another plan, you have my word."

I glared at him once more. "You don't keep your word," I said.

Jackson looked offended. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," I said. "you gave me your word that this plan of yours would work out-"

"In hindsight, it would have worked if the waiter had been a little more generous with the drugs."

"-it didn't," I told him. "This didn't work out." I groaned and pulled at my hair. "I thought I would be done with this by now! I thought I would have dealt with my father-with you-by now! Instead, I've been stuck with an egotistical conman with no regard for anyone but himself-"

"Let's be nice."

"-and," I continued on despite his interruption. "who can't keep his word!"

Jackson glared at me. "Name one instance-other than the failed plan-where I have not kept my word."

I narrowed my eyes at him, suddenly tired of arguing. There were too many emotions I was keeping in. Too many feelings I was pushing aside and I was tired. Tired, frustrated, and realizing that every time he'd told me I'd needed a distraction, he was right. Which was a terrible realization to come to.

I was done. Done arguing. Done fighting. Done thinking. I held up my hand to silence him when he would have spoken again. "No," I said. "I don't . . ." I let out a sigh and rubbed at my head, feeling a headache coming on. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. I'm done."