Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
The path twisted downward, the jungle pressing in on both sides.
Kenzie’s lungs burned as she ran, her feet slipping on loose dirt and exposed roots.
Her suitcase was slowing her down, but her passport was deep inside.
She didn’t have time to retrieve it and didn’t want to lose it if she didn’t have to.
Jaz was ahead of her, his gun raised, his body tense and ready. His bag was slung across his back.
They were almost to the dock. She couldn’t see it yet, but she could smell the salt water.
They were going to make it. They were actually going to make it.
“Got ’em!” The shout erupted from somewhere to their right. A man crashed through the bushes toward them. He was young, built like a linebacker, and moving fast.
Jaz grabbed Kenzie’s arm and propelled her past him. “Go!”
“No—”
“Run!”
Kenzie stumbled a few steps forward, dropped the suitcase, then spun back and aimed the gun.
But the men were wrapped around each other like wrestlers, too close together for her to get a clear shot. The attacker was huge, bigger than Jaz. He drove his fist into Jaz’s side, earning an oomph.
Jaz seemed to collapse, and the thug let him fall, rearing back to kick.
But Jaz rolled away, then lunged, barreling into the man’s midsection.
They both fell, but now Jaz had the upper hand.
He brought his arm down fast and whacked the attacker’s temple with his weapon. Then did it again, just to be sure.
The man quit fighting.
Jaz scrambled to his feet and turned. When he saw her, his eyes went wide and angry. “I told you to run.”
She snatched his duffel bag from the ground where he’d dropped it. “I wasn’t going to leave you.”
More voices erupted behind them. Shouts, some in English, some in Spanish, men crashing through the brush. At least three, maybe more.
She turned and sprinted for the water.
The path opened up, and there it was, the dock jutting out into the small cove, the speedboat waiting exactly where they’d left it.
“Go!” Jaz shouted.
She tossed their bags on board, the hopped on and hit the ignition. The engines roared to life, a beautiful, thunderous sound.
Jaz worked the lines, casting off the bow, then the stern. He leaped into the boat just as the first attacker burst onto the dock.
“Go, go, go!”
Kenzie slammed the throttle. The boat lurched backward, away from the dock, away from the men swarming the small beach. She spun and took off, zigzagging her way to open water.
Gunshots cracked through the air.
“Get down!” Jaz hit the deck, pulling her with him.
She kept her hand on the wheel, peeking to see where she was going.
More gunshots. A bullet pinged off the metal railing. Another round splintered the fiberglass too close to her head.
Jaz crawled to the stern. He rose just enough to return fire, three quick shots.
She used the opportunity to check where they were. The cove opening was straight ahead, maybe fifty yards. “Hang on!” She opened the throttle, flying over the water.
They could make it. They had to make it.
When they hit the mouth of the cove, she felt the waves beneath them, and wildness and freedom. She aimed southward and slid into the seat.
The boat leapt over the rough water.
“We’re clear!” Jaz moved back toward her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She glanced at him. He’d been in a fight, but she saw no signs of injury. “You?”
“Fine.” But when he stood, he winced and touched his side.
“You’re sure?”
“Just a bruise.” He scanned the water behind them, gun still ready.
Had those men left people manning their boats? Would someone give chase?
So far, nobody was following.
Thank God the attackers hadn’t brought rifles, which would have been much more accurate. All those shots from their handguns, and only two had connected as far as she knew, and neither had hit anything vital.
Including her and Jaz.
Thank You, Father.
Jaz finally pocketed his gun and dropped into the seat beside her. “Circle the island on the south side, then head for St. Martin.”
“Okay.” She adjusted their course, giving the island a wide berth, wide enough that the men who’d tracked them down wouldn’t be able to see where they were going without binoculars.
The late afternoon sun glinted off the water, turning the waves into molten gold. It should have been beautiful. Peaceful. This was her element, her home.
It wasn’t now, though.
How had they been tracked? If those men had found them on Jaz’s island, what was to stop them from finding them on St. Martin, or anywhere else they went?
Was there any safety?
Unlike Jaz, at least she still had a home to go back to. Eventually. Even if her business was gone, even if her apartment in St. Barts would never feel safe again, she still had a family in Maine who’d welcome her home.
Unless Jaz could bring down El Fantasma, he had nothing left.
He was staring forward, gripping the console, his jaw tight, his gaze a million miles away.
All the hope he’d shown back in his house was gone. After their talk about his father…
She couldn’t imagine a more horrifying thing than to believe you had caused the death of someone you loved.
But by the time their conversation was over, he seemed to almost agree that it hadn’t been his fault. To accept what she was saying. He hadn’t been cheerful, exactly, after they returned inside. But thoughtful, and maybe that was the first step to healing.
All that had been stripped away. Now, all she saw was despair.
She slid her hand over his, which gripped the dashboard tightly.
He looked at her, surprised, as if he’d been so deep in his own head that he’d forgotten she was there. His expression was unreadable, but he linked their fingers.
She wanted to tell him it would be okay, that they’d figure this out, that he hadn’t lost everything. But she didn’t know if any of that was true, and empty words would be worse than no words at all. So she said nothing, just held his hand.
She had no idea if this thing between them was even real, though it seemed to mean something that he’d told her the truth about his father’s death.
Maybe not.
She had no experience with romantic relationships, no frame of reference for what she felt when she looked at him. Was it just adrenaline and proximity and the intensity of everything they’d been through?
Or was it more?
It didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that this man had saved her life, at great cost to himself.
He could have let her die on the Blue Fantasy.
Instead, he’d risked everything to protect her, a woman he hadn’t known at all.
Because of that, he’d blown his cover with Magras, and now he’d lost his one safe place in the world.
Lord, guide us. Show us the way forward. And help Jaz to see Your work, even in the midst of his despair. Help him know he’s not alone. That You haven’t abandoned him, that no matter what happened in the past, You have a good future for him.
After a long moment, his fingers tightened around hers. Not much, just a slight squeeze. But it was something.
“Thank you.” His voice was barely audible over the engine noise.
“For what?”
“For not running when I told you to. For caring enough to stay.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you.”
“I know.” He looked at her, really looked at her. “That’s what scares me.”
She slowed just a little, turning to meet his eyes. “Why?”
“People who get close to me end up paying the price. Charlotte. My brother.” His voice dropped lower. “My dad.”
“You made sure Charlotte was taken care of. Your brother’s a grown man. He can take care of himself. And we’ve already been over your father.”
“Still feels like I’m cursed.”
“We’re alive.” She squeezed his hand. “Feels to me like God’s on our side.”
“We got lucky, that’s all. It won’t happen twice.” He tugged his hand away. “Call your dad. Go back to Maine, where he can keep you safe. I have all your paperwork now. I don’t need you anymore.”
“Wow, you know how to make a girl feel welcome.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive, Kenzie.”
She turned her focus ahead again. “I know.” Jaz wasn’t trying to hurt her. He just didn’t want another death on his conscience. She couldn’t blame him for that.
Almost against her will, she considered what he asked.
It was one thing playing detective in Jaz’s luxury home on a private island. But they’d been found. They’d been hunted and chased and shot at. She wasn’t built for this kind of life.
Her sisters and her parents thought she was some great adventurer, but the truth was just the opposite. She’d built her life around her desire to keep her distance from dangerous men.
Ironic, really, considering she’d nearly been murdered by pirates.
Ever since that moment, she’d been in one tight spot after another, and she hated it.
She wanted off the roller coaster. And Jaz was right—she could disembark anytime she wanted.
The adrenaline that had surged during their escape had drained away, leaving her weak and frightened. Jaz’s words echoed a thought that had been simmering in the back of her mind.
She could call Dad. He’d get her out of there. He’d take her home.
Mom would be thrilled. She’d make cookies and hot chocolate. It was April, still cold in Maine.
Kenzie’s sisters would come to see her. They’d laugh and tell stories. They’d cuddle by the fire and watch a movie.
The temptation was nearly overwhelming. One phone call, and Gavin Wright would swoop in with all his resources, all his connections. He’d extract her, protect her, and make this whole nightmare disappear.
For her.
But what would he do, what could he do, for Jaz? Maybe he’d try to protect him, but even Dad couldn’t make drug cartels go away. Even Dad couldn’t give Jaz his life back.
“I’m not leaving.” She waited until Jaz turned and met her eyes. “I’m seeing this through, no matter what.”
“If I could get out of this, I would. And you should go where you’ll be safe.”
“Will I? How long before Magras or El Fantasma finds me? How long before law enforcement shows up at my door?”
“Your father will—”
“I’m not leaving you, Jaz. And I don’t mean… I get that we’re not…anything at this point. But we’re friends, and friends don’t let friends fight drug dealers alone.”
“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”
“Even so.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “You’re either the bravest person I’ve ever met or the most reckless.”
“I’m neither. What I am is determined.”
“You are brave. And reckless.” This time when he smiled, it almost reached his eyes. “And a friend, and I hope, something more.”
Oh.
Okay, then. She faced forward but figured he didn’t miss her smile.
Kind of stupid, all things considered, but she’d never had “something more” with a guy. It was kind of fun. Or would be, if not for the murderous drug smugglers on their tail.
The island was behind them, disappearing beneath the horizon. Ahead, open water stretched, endless and uncertain.
But they were alive. They were together. And they had a chance.
That would have to be enough.
“Any idea how they found us?”
He shook his head. Then, he pulled his phone from his pocket and tossed it overboard.
“Ouch,” she said. “Sorry.”
“The least of my problems.”
“Why St. Martin?”
“It’s packed with tourists. I figure we’ll blend in. We can get lost in the noise. And as long as we’re there, we might as well check out those yacht management companies. Maybe we can learn something.”
“Good idea.”
“Aim for Phillipsburg on the Dutch side. There’s a marina near downtown, on the east side of the harbor.”
“I’m familiar.”
“I forgot I’m dealing with the famous Captain Kenzie.”
“Famous. Ha.” For years she’d longed for the solitude of sailing, the peaceful rhythm of the sea. But sitting here beside Jaz, she realized maybe solitude wasn’t what she needed anymore.
Maybe what she’d been missing all along wasn’t freedom from people. Maybe it was finding the right person to be free with.
Could Jaz be that person?
As the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, she found herself hoping they’d live long enough to find out.