Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Jaz couldn’t process what Kenzie had just told him.
She knew. She’d known about Charlotte since Christmas. All this time… They’d only worked together for a couple of days, but it felt like longer. All that time when he’d been pretending, lying, trying so hard to be…worthy.
She’d known.
Who did she tell?
The question had him studying her, searching for lies, for secrets.
One slip, one innocent comment—
Oh, Jaz? Yeah, I know his brother, the one raising his daughter.
That was all it would take for his world to blow up.
Charlotte was Jaz’s only secret from Magras, the only part of his life that remained clean, unstained by Jaz’s terrible decisions. If Magras learned about her, he’d use her as leverage. Jaz’s four-year-old child would become a tool, a weapon in the hands of a dangerous man.
Everything he’d worked for—five years of degradation, of pretending to be someone he despised, of sacrificing his relationship with his daughter—all of it would be for nothing.
His life would be over. Not because Magras would kill him, though after the last few days, he might. But because Jaz wouldn’t risk Charlotte. Not for the DEA, not for justice, not for anything.
Charlotte was the red line he’d never cross. He’d do anything, anything to keep her safe.
He forced himself to breathe, to think.
He needed to know for certain that Kenzie had kept his secret. But how could he be sure? She’d played Simone perfectly. She’d kept her knowledge about him close to the vest. What else was she hiding?
His gaze sharpened, really focusing on the woman still standing against the wall. Her eyes were wide, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked small and terrified.
He’d done that. He’d put that fear in her eyes.
The realization sat heavy in his chest, another weight on cosmic scales already tipping dangerously against him.
He’d lived on the edge of a sword for so long he was starting to feel the stab, the dripping blood—his own and everyone else’s.
The pirates who’d died on the Blue Fantasy.
Laguerre, wounded on a hospital table. Charlotte, abandoned by the father she barely knew.
Now Kenzie, traumatized and hunted.
None of this was her fault.
He’d made the choices that had led him here.
The gambling, the debts, the desperation that had made him vulnerable to Magras in the first place.
Then the choice to become an informant instead of just walking away, disappearing, starting over somewhere Magras couldn’t find him.
He’d told himself it was noble—taking down the bad guys, protecting innocents.
Maybe he’d just been too proud to run. Too stubborn to admit defeat.
Too desperate to get his life back. Maybe he’d been a fool to think he could ever go home, could ever be the man his father had tried so hard to raise.
Good people were paying for his bad choices.
Something else needled at him, something small and irrelevant in the scheme of things.
Kenzie had known the truth about him this whole time.
While he was performing as playboy Jaz, while he was playing the hero, while he was debating whether he could trust her, she’d already known he’d abandoned his daughter.
She’d already known the worst thing about him.
It shouldn’t matter. Laguerre could die. Armed men were hunting them. His mission was falling apart.
But it bothered him. This woman who prayed before sleeping, who talked about spending time with Jesus, who radiated a goodness he’d forgotten how to access—she knew what kind of man he really was. The kind who walked away from his own child.
The kind who suspected innocent people because his world had taught him that everyone was a threat.
He was so tired. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He wanted off the roller coaster.
He stepped back, turned around. Inhaled the stuffy, humid air, then blew it out. Like the rest of his life, there were very few things he could control. He needed to concentrate on the things he could.
He wanted to go to the hospital. Every instinct screamed at him to see Laguerre, to make sure his friend would survive or to be at his side if he passed.
Laguerre… Anton was his name, though he rarely told anyone. He was the only real friend Jaz had. He was the only person in the Caribbean—aside from the woman in the room with him—who knew the real Jaz underneath all the lies.
Laguerre had taken a bullet to protect him and Kenzie.
But Jaz couldn’t go to the hospital.
The men watching Kenzie’s apartment hadn’t been Magras’s guards but thugs who worked for the cartel that had tried to steal the drugs off the Blue Fantasy. Kenzie was the loose end, the witness who might be able to identify them.
Those men would be watching the hospital. If Jaz walked in there, he’d be a target. And wouldn’t Laguerre be furious, considering he’d taken a bullet to keep Jaz alive.
He had to protect Kenzie, and not just because she was an asset who had information he needed. If Kenzie was Delaney’s sister, then she was part of Charlotte’s family.
Also, he cared about her, too much.
A gentle touch drew him out of his thoughts. The contact was light, tentative—like Kenzie was afraid of him. He deserved that.
“Jaz?” Her voice held genuine concern. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk it through?”
The question was so unexpected, so undeserved, that something in his chest cracked. She should hate him. She should be demanding answers, throwing accusations, protecting herself. Instead, she was checking on him.
He couldn’t handle gentleness right now. Couldn’t afford it.
“I’m sorry.” The words came out rough as he backed out of her reach, his focus on the wooden floorboards. “For all of it. For suspecting you, for dragging you into this, for—” He stopped. Too many apologies, too little time.
He forced himself to look up. “You didn’t know anything about…any of this, so I would understand. You can tell me the truth, and I won’t be angry.” He swallowed. “You need to tell me the truth.”
She adjusted her feet, maybe bracing for what he was about to say.
“Did you tell anyone about Charlotte? Even in passing? It could’ve been someone you don’t think knows anything about me. A friend, one of your crew. If you told anyone at all, I need to know.”
Kenzie didn’t hesitate, didn’t look away. “It was never my story to tell.”
The knot in his chest unclenched slightly, but he couldn’t relax yet. “I get how you met Charlotte and Noah. But how did you put us together?”
“You and your brother look a lot alike.”
“Not that much.”
“Enough that the moment I met him, I saw a resemblance. Delaney had told us a little about Charlotte’s father.
” By the look on Kenzie’s face, she didn’t want to say more about what her sister had told her.
“Anyway, I knew you spent time in the islands. When I saw Noah, saw how much he looked like you, I asked him if he had a brother. Which was a dumb question—I knew he did, since I’d just met your daughter.
I was a little thrown, seeing someone who looked so much like the infamous womanizer of St. Barts in my childhood home. ”
Infamous womanizer. He’d been called worse.
“Noah told me your name and asked if I’d seen you.”
“That’s it?”
“Basically.” By the hesitant tone, he guessed there was more. After a minute, her expression softened. “He cares about you. I got the impression he hadn’t heard from you in a while. He was worried.”
The words should have been a comfort. Noah had forgiven him for everything—for leaving, for gambling away half their parents’ estate.
He’d even forgiven him for showing up with a daughter Jasper had never told him about and essentially dumping her before disappearing back into his life.
Noah didn’t know about Magras or the lies he lived.
He thought the infamous womanizer was real, that Jaz couldn’t be bothered to do the right thing because he was having too much fun partying.
But Noah had forgiven him anyway. He was a good man, the kind of man their father would be proud of.
Jaz was trying. God knew he was trying. He’d been trying to redeem himself, to dig himself out of this dark hole, for five years. Somehow, he was deeper than ever.
His ringing phone cut through his spiraling thoughts. He snatched it, seeing the name on the screen an instant before he connected. “What’s going on?”
“He’s in surgery,” Martinez said. “No word yet on whether he’ll make it, but they seemed hopeful, not preparing us for the worst.”
“Good. Surgery is good. You’re safe?” Jaz didn’t want anyone else getting hurt. “Those guys will be watching the hospital.”
“We know. We’re watching for them too.”
“Be careful.”
“You’re the one hanging out with that woman. She’s the dangerous one.”
“She’s not.” He didn’t mind the steel in his voice. “She didn’t—”
“We were betrayed. Someone knew we’d be there.”
Jaz looked at Kenzie, who stood a few feet away, waiting for news with those wide, trusting eyes. How could she trust him, after everything? “It wasn’t Kenzie. She didn’t have access to a phone. She had no way to contact anyone. It wasn’t her.”
Martinez made a disgusted sound. “Then how did they know?”
Jaz remembered that moment after they’d left her apartment. “Maybe the guards were texting while we were inside. Maybe they realized they’d both been distracted and suspected a plan. Or maybe the simplest explanation is the right one—the guy in the alley recognized us.”
“The woman was transporting drugs for them, and you’re trying to save her.”
“She didn’t know—”
“They never do. They all claim innocence while the truly innocent die.” Martinez’s voice turned bitter. He’d lost family members to the cartels. For him, there was no such thing as a blameless drug mule. “You’re thinking with the wrong part of your anatomy, hermano.”
That remark didn’t deserve a reply. “They know she’s alive, and they know she’s here. I’m getting her off the island.”
He could take Kenzie’s files and send her away. But he might need her input. And would she be safe by herself?
Jaz couldn’t bear the thought of not being there for her.
Which meant he had to miss tonight’s meeting with Magras. Which meant blowing his cover.
Five years of careful positioning, gone.
If Kenzie’s business records didn’t supply enough information to bring down both Magras and El Fantasma, Jaz’s life would be over.
Magras didn’t forgive betrayal. The cartel that had attacked the Blue Fantasy wanted revenge. And if El Fantasma got wind of it, Jaz would be in his crosshairs too. No way he’d survive.
But Charlotte would be safe. And Kenzie would be alive.
That would have to be enough.
“You will give up everything for her?” Martinez practically sneered the words.
“Keep me updated on Laguerre,” Jaz said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“You’re making a mistake. You’re gonna get us all—”
Jaz ended the call.
Kenzie was watching him. “We’re leaving?”
“Get your things and set up your cell phone. You have ten minutes.”
She didn’t move, just studied him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. “You’re giving up everything you’ve worked for.”
“I’m keeping you alive.” He said it like it was simple, like it was the only choice that mattered. Right now, it was.
She opened her mouth—maybe to argue or thank him or ask questions they didn’t have time for.
“Ten minutes, Kenzie. Hurry.”
The words snapped her into action, and she pulled her burner from her pocket.
Jaz went back into the bedroom and tossed clothes into his duffel bag.
This might be the end of him. But Charlotte was still a secret. And Kenzie was still breathing.
And maybe the records they’d retrieved would give them what they needed to end this. If they didn’t, he’d just thrown everything away for a woman he barely knew.
A woman he was starting to realize he’d throw everything away for.
The thought should terrify him. Instead, it felt like one of the most honest things he’d felt in five years.