Catching the Storm

29. Questions Unanswered

"If you are referring to last night," He said with a glare. "I stand by what I said, I'm not one of the good guys."

I let out a scoff. "Believe me, I know." I grabbed some clothes from the dresser and walked to the bathroom. "Just out of curiosity," I said as I paused in the doorway. "Do you remember anything you did . . . or said after getting drugged?"

He frowned and seemed to be thinking it over for a long moment before finally, he shook his head. "No, why?"

I shook my head. "Nothing," I muttered softly. "It's not important."

I closed the bathroom door, shielding me from him, at least for the moment. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the door, trying to make sense of the thoughts running through my head. Trying to make sense of what was going on.

By the time I'd gotten showered, dressed, and stepped out of the bathroom, Jackson was gone. The bed was made up, his clothes folded neatly at the foot of the bed, but no Jackson. Not that I was particularly complaining about that fact.

Noah however, was still in the room, packing up his computer and whatever else he'd brought into his backpack.

I leaned against the doorway leading into the common area from the bedroom. "You going somewhere?"

He didn't even look up at me from what he was doing. "Back to the yacht. Jackson says you guys will only be here for a couple more days, and he doesn't need me in the hotel anymore."

I crossed my arms over my chest and just watched him. "News to me," I muttered.

I watched him put a tablet into the backpack, zip it up, and then nearly fall over from the weight as he tried to lift it onto his back. I shook my head. "That's a little sad, kid."

He just glared at me in response.

I walked over. "Let me," I said as I grabbed hold of the backpack strap and hoisted it over my shoulder, and nearly lost my balance myself. "What on earth do you have packed in here? Bricks?"

He huffed. "No," He said as he began to lead the way out of the hotel room. "and I got it here just fine, I could have taken it back."

"And yet, I don't see you trying to take it back from me."

He shrugged.

Noah led me out to the parking lot and opened up the trunk of a small black car. I dropped the backpack in and he nearly had an aneurysm.

"Be careful!"

"Relax," I said as I closed the trunk. "I didn't break your precious bricks."

"That's not funny," He said and then shrugged. "but thanks for the help."

"No problem," I said as I watched him. "You mind if I tag along?"

He frowned at me. "Back to the yacht?"

I nodded.

"Why?"

"Considering Storm is hell-bent to get to Branson and doesn't seem to care whether or not Branson takes me down along the way, I'd like to get my gun back."

Noah looked hesitant. "I don't know," He said. "Jackson said you were supposed to help him with something . . ."

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at Noah. "Either you take me with you so I can get my gun and continue to stay alive, or so help me Noah I will get the keys from you one way or another, lock you in the trunk of your own car and go there myself."

Noah's eyes widened. "Uh, sure. Whatever . . . just-uh, get in . . . I guess."

***

I carried Noah's backpack for him, my shoulders crying out in relief as soon as I was able to drop it onto the floor of his room on the yacht.