Chapter 3 #2
“You’re an asset. Speaking of…” He leaned toward her. “Give me your phone.”
Her only connection to safety? Was he out of his mind? “Not on your life.”
He smiled, though it was tight. “I’m not going to steal it or toss it in the ocean. I just need to make sure it can’t be tracked.”
“What if I want it to be tracked?”
“Then I’ll toss both you and the phone overboard. I don’t need that cartel’s men running us down and killing us all.”
The words were a sharp needle to her inflated sense of self-protection.
He sat back and folded his arms, clearly knowing he’d won the argument.
“I’ll turn it off.” She pulled it from her pocket. She’d invested in a waterproof case for obvious reasons, so when she pressed the screen, it lit right up. She disabled the location services and powered it down, then angled the screen for Jaz to see. “Okay?”
He looked like he wanted to snatch it, to make sure, but he didn’t.
“So, I’m an asset?”
Jasper shifted to sit beside her, a little too close.
She scooted away.
He angled to face her, giving her a little more space. “You have information I need. Information that could help take down one of the most dangerous drug cartels in this hemisphere.”
Kenzie barked out a laugh. “I know nothing about drug cartels.”
“You were on that yacht.”
“Delivering it for a client.”
“There were drugs—”
“So you say, but I don’t know anything about that. For all I know, those crates were filled with oranges and mangoes.”
“They weren’t.”
“I’d tell you to prove it, but you blew it up.”
“My job is to stop the drugs getting into the States, not leave them for somebody else to smuggle. And they were drugs. Trust me. I knew they were drugs the same way I knew you were in danger. It’s the reason you’re safe and not trapped with those monsters.”
The memory of that moment with the pirate who’d cornered her had her shuddering in the cold wind. She didn’t want to think about that.
“I believe you,” Jaz said. “I believe you didn’t know you were transporting drugs. But that doesn’t mean you don’t know anything.”
“I don’t, though.” The words came out on a half sob, and she clamped her lips shut. She sounded desperate, exactly the opposite of the impression she wanted to give.
She was a captain, a business owner. She was capable.
She wasn’t desperate. She’d endured more than her share of trauma and lived to…
maybe not tell about it, but she’d survived.
This wasn’t the first time her world had exploded.
But this time, she needed to stay in control. To be rational and think.
She took a deep, steadying breath, forcing herself to relax her grip on the seat. “So you think I can help you take down drug dealers. How, exactly?”
“I’ll explain more when we’re secure.” He returned to the bench opposite her.
This whole situation was absurd.
But that wasn’t Jaz’s fault. The line between reality and absurdity had blurred the moment pirates had attacked the Blue Fantasy.
Should she trust this man? Or lunge for a weapon?
She hoped he was being sincere. Really, he had no reason to lie to her at this point.
She was at his mercy. And he’d let her keep her phone.
“I need to call my father.” Dad would be worried.
More than that, she wanted to know how Jaz would react to the request. “I need to let him know I’m okay. ”
“Why wouldn’t he think you were?”
“He’ll hear about the explosion.”
“Nah. It’s not like it’ll make national news.”
“You don’t know my father. He hears everything.”
That seemed to get his attention, and he regarded her through narrowed eyes. “How?”
“You don’t know?”
“How would I?”
Was he lying, or did he really not know who she was? Did he really not know how they were connected?
“Is he a reporter or something?” Jaz asked. “Or in the government? How would he hear about this?”
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head. “You don’t get to kidnap me—”
“I didn’t kidnap you, I—”
“—and then demand answers. Suffice it to say, you’ll let me call my father if you know what’s good for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My father has resources.”
“What is this, Taken, Caribbean Edition? Does he have a special set of skills?”
“As a matter of fact…”
“It’s fine. You can call him when we’re there.”
“Where is ‘there’?”
“St. Barts.”
She figured her relief showed in her expression. St. Barts was her home. When she wasn’t on the water, she stayed in an apartment far from the glitzy clients who kept her business going. She had friends on St. Barts. Or…maybe just acquaintances, but if she needed help, she’d be able to find it.
He turned his attention forward.
So he was going to let her make a call. Meaning, maybe he was a good guy, or at least not a bad guy.
Jaz and his people had saved her life and the lives of her crew. She did owe him something.
Much as she didn’t like this playboy-turned-hero-turned…whatever he was now, she was no fan of drug cartels. If she could help bring one down, she would.
And then she’d resume her life, far away from Jaz and all this craziness.