Chapter 19 #2
“I didn’t just…I fought him. I fought him with everything in me.
I managed to wrench myself away, but he was blocking the door, looking smug, like he thought the game was fun.
Like he knew I’d lose and he couldn’t wait.
” Kenzie’s face flushed red. She crossed her arms. “But he didn’t know my dad.
He didn’t know how Dad had trained all of us to protect ourselves.
I’m not sure my older sisters appreciated those lessons or took them to heart, but I did.
I could hear his voice in my head. ‘What do you see? What can you use? Don’t just react.
Think. Your greatest weapon is your mind.
’ I forced myself to look, to strategize.
“He had trophies on his dresser. I didn’t want the biggest one. I wanted the one with a long, narrow shaft that I could easily grip. I feinted right, lunged left, grabbed it. Turned around swinging. I did it too fast and hit his shoulder, but it was hard enough that it shocked him.”
She stopped, took a deep breath.
“He was furious, shouting and cursing, as if I had no right to defend myself. He lunged toward me. I hit him again. He went down, but I was scared. I hit him again.” Tears slid down her face now, silent and steady.
“He fell and hit his head on the corner of his desk.” Arms still wrapped around her middle, she rocked, holding herself together.
“There was so much blood, and I realized…”
She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head.
“He was dead.” Her voice broke on the word.
“I killed him. I didn’t mean to, but also, I didn’t mean not to.
I just wanted him to stop. And then I didn’t know what to do.
I should have called the police, but I was scared and…
I called my dad. I could barely talk, barely breathe.
Dad wanted to know the boy’s name, and when I told him…
My dad had taken it all in stride until then. But he was rattled.
“He told me to clean up, wash my hands, wash away any sign of blood. He sent a car to pick me up and take me to a hotel. And he sent a team to…I don’t know, erase me from the scene or something.”
Jaz stood and circled the table.
She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears, her eyes haunted.
He stood beside her chair, arms out, an invitation.
She stood and stepped into them, and he held her.
Her tears wet his shirt. He didn’t know what to say, figured whatever he said would be wrong. So he just held her, wanting her to know she was safe and treasured and valuable and…and cared for.
He did care, a lot.
More emotion leaked from his eyes as this brave, courageous woman wept in his arms.
It was minutes before she loosened her hold on him. He let her go and stepped back, giving her space.
“Sorry.”
“For what? Trusting me with your story? I’m not.” After she settled back in her chair, he sat beside her and took her hand. “What happened?”
“Dad had heard of the boy’s father, some bigwig, apparently involved in underhanded stuff, though I never knew the details.
He was afraid the man would turn vigilante, would come after me or our family.
So Dad eliminated me from the situation.
Had security camera footage erased. Claimed he’d picked me up that afternoon.
He established an alibi for me that nobody could dispute. ”
Jaz scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her, and she leaned in, letting him hold her again. “Nobody ever knew it was you?”
“I think they suspected, but nobody could prove it. There was no arrest, no trial. To this day, the boy’s death remains unsolved. The whole thing was buried.”
“You were defending yourself,” he said quietly.
“I know. But I still killed him. I see his face sometimes. In nightmares. I see the blood, and I feel the weight of the trophy in my hand, and I—”
“Hey.” He pulled back enough to see her face. “You survived. You did what you had to do to survive.”
“Dad said the same thing. He said I was brave. That I saved my own life. But I’ve never felt brave. I’ve just felt…broken. Scared. Like I couldn’t trust my own judgment because I’d walked into that room willingly.”
“That explains your reluctance to cross thresholds.”
“I know it’s irrational. But sometimes, my body just stops. I can’t make myself move forward.”
“That’s not irrational. That’s your brain’s safety mechanism.”
“Maybe.” She eased back, and he let her go. “I’ve gotten better over the years. Therapy helped. So did time. But it’s always there, under the surface. And then the other day, with the pirates.”
She’d shot two of them before Jaz arrived. “I bet that brought up some memories. I’m amazed at how well you’ve handled all of it, especially with that in your background. I feel honored that you trusted me after what happened. And honored that you trusted me with your story.”
She looked at him, the slightest uptick of her lips, then leaned against him again. They sat like that, in the silence, for a long time before she stood and grabbed a napkin to dry her tears. “After last night, you were so honest with me. I felt like I could be honest with you.”
“I’m glad you were.”
She nodded, but the action seemed absent-minded. She sighed. “Do me a favor, though. Don’t treat me like I’m broken.”
“You’re not broken. Are you kidding me? You command yachts, which in and of itself proves you’re courageous.”
“Or foolish.”
“If you weren’t competent, maybe. But you are.
And before that, you overcame an assault and all the…
the stuff you must’ve dealt with after your attacker died.
You’re a survivor, and thank God for it.
It’s the reason you’re here right now, with me.
Because you’re tough and smart. You didn’t just save yourself the other day, you saved your whole crew. ”
“They were my responsibility.”
“Even so, it was impressive, seeing you try to fend off a bunch of armed thugs.” He smiled at the memory, though there’d been nothing funny about watching from the speedboat as pirates scurried onto the deck of her boat.
Jaz had shouted at Laguerre to go faster, feeling utterly helpless, knowing he’d be too late to save her.
But he hadn’t been—because she’d fought back.
“You’re amazing, Kenzie.”
“No.” She ducked her head, but he caught the smile he’d surprised out of her.
“You are.” His arm was already perched on the back of her chair. It was so simple to lower it, to drop his hand to her shoulders, feeling her silky hair in his fingertips. “You’re amazing.”
She looked back up, her eyes wide, but not afraid. Just watching him. And it was all he could do not to tip forward and press his lips to hers.
She must’ve sensed what he was thinking because her gaze dipped to his mouth.
This was a mistake. Reckless. Stupid. But apparently, Jaz hadn’t learned his lesson. He leaned in.
She didn’t back away but tipped forward the slightest bit.
He didn’t close the distance. If they were going to kiss again, she was going to initiate it. He was sure she wouldn’t, though. Figured she’d lean back, act like nothing had happened.
But then, her lips brushed his.
He didn’t move, afraid he’d scare her away.
She did it again, this time using a little more pressure.
He responded—he’d need Herculean powers not to. Slow, he told himself. Don’t push it.
It was torture. Kissing Kenzie was absolute, beautiful torture.
She scooted closer, her fingers sliding over his shoulders.
He wrapped his arm around her—just one arm. Plenty of room to escape if she wanted to. She relaxed against him, and that subtle shift was maddening.
He couldn’t stand it anymore. He dove in, needing more of this, more of her.
Kenzie matched his passion with her own.
It was perfect.
It just didn’t last long enough. The second he sensed a shift in her, he froze. Lifted his hands. Backed up.
He couldn’t read her expression. “You’re okay?”
“Just okay?” Her eyebrows hiked. “I’m offended. I thought that was pretty good.”
He laughed, a full-throated, head-back laugh. This woman. How could she be so strong and so soft and so perfect, and…?
Oh, man. Why did he have to meet her now, when his whole life was falling apart?
But maybe…maybe Kenzie could bring him one step closer to putting it back together. Maybe Kenzie was the piece he’d been missing all along.