Catching the Storm

40. Heading Home

Crystal's POV

I woke up in bed alone the next morning. Jackson's side of the bed was cold, a sure sign that he'd been up and gone for some time.

I rolled out of bed and walked over to the dresser to put on some clothes, only to notice that it had been completely emptied except for one outfit. I frowned for a second in confusion before shrugging, pulling out the clothes, and stepping into the bathroom.

I took my time showering, standing under the warm shower spray, and letting my thoughts wander. When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, washed and clothed, Jackson still was nowhere in sight.

I frowned as I glanced around the room. I had completely expected him to be here-only because I knew he couldn't resist his inappropriate comments and after last night I was sure he had plenty to say.

I found myself debating whether or not to go find him or to let him come to me. I knew either way I'd have to face whatever comments he'd come up with. Knew that by the end of the day my face would be red as hell and I'd be wanting to strangle him but, I didn't actually regret what we'd done. I mean after all, if he could use me, I could use him too right?

Eventually, I just decided to get it over with and go find him myself.

He wasn't hard to find. It wasn't as if he was hiding. He was standing out on the balcony, wearing his usual suit-minus the jacket-staring out at the ocean, completely oblivious to everything.

I leaned against the door frame in the open doorway. Crossing my arms over my chest I just watched him silently for a moment.

"I'm curious," I finally said, drawing his attention to me. "Is there any particular reason you chose this outfit for me to wear today?"

He glanced at me briefly over his shoulder. "It's comfortable for travel," He replied.

"Yeah?" I questioned. "You found Branson already?"

He shook his head. "I have not," He replied.

I frowned at him in confusion. "Then where are we going?"

"We are not going anywhere," Jackson said as he turned to face me. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the railing. I also noticed that he wasn't smiling. He didn't have the infuriating look in his eyes that he usually did. Nothing about his expression was how I was used to seeing him. Nope.

Instead, everything about him, his posture, body language, expression, everything was so . . . closed off. So guarded. He'd put his walls up. Only this time, he was keeping them up.

Well, this isn't going to go well.

"No?" I questioned as I watched him carefully. "Then why am I in clothes comfortable for travel?"

"Because you're leaving," Jackson stated. He said it like it was a fact. Like I didn't have a choice. "Your bag's already been packed. All your stuff's inside. It's all waiting by the door."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And why the sudden urge to get rid of me?"

Jackson stared back at me. "You're not needed anymore."

"Not needed?"

"No," He said. "I've gotten what I wanted from you. I no longer need you." The way he spoke was harsh and cold. His words pissed me off, and they hurt, but I wasn't convinced. There was more to this.

I continued to stare at him with narrowed eyes. Continued to watch him.

He made a dismissive motion with his hand as if I were a dog he was trying to shoo out the door. "You may go. It's nothing personal."