Chapter 2
TWO
Jasper Aylett had never met a more infuriating woman in his life—and he’d met his share of women. Here he was, risking his neck to save Kenzie and her crew, and she was digging her heels in.
“Look.” He attempted a reasonable tone despite the ticking clock he could practically hear in his head. “I know you think this is about the yacht. It’s not. It’s about what’s on the yacht.”
Her eyebrows pulled together, those golden-brown eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What are you talking about?”
“Drugs. This boat is loaded with drugs, and there’s a very dangerous cartel that wants them.”
The shock on her face told him everything. She had no idea what she’d gotten herself into. Her crew looked equally bewildered, exchanging glances behind her.
“That’s ridiculous. This is a private yacht. It belongs to a businessman—”
“Who’s transporting drugs into the US. A businessman who has enemies.” He pointed upward, toward the pirates in a gunfight on the deck.
The crew shifted uncomfortably.
The big guy with the salt-and-pepper beard—she’d called him Barn—moved closer to Kenzie. “How would you know that?” Emphasis on you, as if a man like Jasper couldn’t have information.
He could hardly blame Barn for his skepticism. If the tables were turned, he’d be suspicious too.
“I think I’ve earned some trust.” Jaz kept his voice low, the words clipped. “This isn’t a debate. There are people coming who will kill every one of you to get what’s on this boat.”
Kenzie’s freckles stood out against her suddenly pale skin. “I don’t understand. How can you be sure?”
Maybe it would be faster to prove it. “Show me the cargo area.”
“This isn’t a freighter.”
The clock was ticking down, but they were all staring at him like he was the enemy.
“There has to be a secure storage area. A citadel or panic room, maybe?”
Kenzie blinked. “There’s a citadel, but it’s locked. The owner said it was being used for storage.”
“Show me.”
Kenzie led him down a narrow corridor. The crew followed, Barn in the rear.
Jaz turned and met his eyes over the others. “Can you find a crowbar or tools?”
He looked past Jaz to Kenzie, who must’ve given her permission because the man swiveled and hurried the other direction.
They reached what appeared to be an ordinary bulkhead, but when Kenzie pushed against a section of wall paneling, it slid aside to reveal a door. “I don’t have a key.”
Jasper examined the door. Heavy-duty steel—definitely meant to keep people out. Or protect the people inside. He ran his fingers along the seam where door met frame.
“It’s not that unusual.” Kenzie almost sounded defensive. “Owners often lock away their valuables when they’re not on board.”
“Stand back.” The paneling around the door wasn’t nearly as robust. He braced himself and drove his shoulder into it, feeling the thin veneer splinter. Pain shot through his arm, but the wood cracked. Another hit and he’d broken through enough to see the metal frame.
He glanced at his watch. They were running out of time.
Barn pressed past the other crew, holding out a crowbar. “Found this with the maintenance equipment.”
“Perfect.” Jasper took it and wedged the curved end between the door and frame on the hinge side. Leaning his weight into it, he strained against the resistance. Sweat dripped down his neck before the door groaned.
The metal bent slightly. He repositioned the crowbar and pulled again. With a screech of tearing metal, the hinge began to give way. He worked the crowbar back and forth until he’d created a gap just wide enough to see inside.
Using his cell phone’s flashlight, Jasper looked through the opening. The small room was packed with wooden crates, stacked nearly to the ceiling.
“Well?” Kenzie demanded.
He stepped back to give her space to look, handing her his phone for light.
She peered through the gap. “It’s just crates.”
“You suppose they pack up all their jewelry and furs in square crates? Is that how you store your valuables?”
Her gaze flicked back to the hole. “You’re right. Doesn’t track.”
“Can we go now? Please?” He added the last as if it were a request, but if she didn’t agree, he’d throw her over his shoulder and start moving. He needed Kenzie alive.
She might be his only chance to find El Fantasma and get his life back.
When Jasper opened the forward hatch, the unmistakable crack of gunfire assaulted his ears. Not the distant pops he’d been hoping for. The pirates hadn’t given up.
“Stay down!” he hissed, pressing his palm against Kenzie’s back as she ducked beside him. The engines of the speedboats roared, circling the yacht.
Kenzie’s crew huddled behind them, eyes wide with terror.
The youngest, a woman who barely looked old enough to pay her own bills, was so pale that Jasper worried she might collapse.
He scanned the deck, assessing their options.
The stern was a war zone—the men on his boat exchanging fire with the remaining thugs.
“The bow,” Kenzie said. “It’s our only chance.”
It would be a suicide move if the motor were still engaged, but the pirates had cut the motor and lowered the sails, which were piled in heaps on the deck.
The yacht was barely moving now, though the waters were rough.
“Aim to leeward side.” He leaned close to Kenzie’s ear so she’d hear over the roar. “You lead. Use the sails for cover.”
She turned to her crew. “Follow me. Stay low.”
Jasper gripped her arm. “Wait.” The cartel’s speedboat circled the bow, then sped away.
“Now!”
He moved aside to let the crew pass, biting back the obvious, Hurry, hurry! They needed to get off this floating coffin, now.
Kenzie crept like a cat, graceful. She slipped across the deck, behind the sails, keeping low. Her crew followed.
So far, nobody had noticed their escape.
He spoke into the comms unit attached to his collar. “We’re going off the bow, heading port side.”
“Copy,” came Laguerre’s staticky reply.
Jaz positioned himself behind Barn, watching Kenzie as she reached the bow. At the railing, she directed her people over. The younger woman got there first but hesitated, clearly terrified.
He saw the stern look on Kenzie’s face, though he couldn’t hear the words she spoke. Whatever.
The woman scrambled over the side, barely stifling a scream as she disappeared.
The two junior crewmen were next.
Kenzie directed Barn to go after them, but he paused. Jaz couldn’t hear but imagined the big man was telling her to go first.
Like they had time for chivalry.
Finally, Barn disappeared over the side, and Kenzie turned to Jaz.
“What are you waiting for?” Jaz demanded. She was the one he’d risked his neck to save, the one with information about the cartel he needed. She seemed intent on getting herself killed.
“I’m the captain. I won’t—”
“Move!”
She must’ve seen something in his eyes—like his plan to toss her overboard if she didn’t comply. She peeked over the edge, confirming her crew was all right, then started to climb.
A bullet pinged off the railing inches from her hand. She dove back, flattening herself against the deck.
The gunfire intensified. They had to get off before one of the surviving pirates reached them and stopped them from escaping. “Kenzie. You have to risk it.”
She looked at him, her eyes flashing with terror. And then determination as she dashed up and over the side.
He followed, hanging by his fingertips from the bow. They edged along the hull, moving toward the port side where his boat waited.
Cold water lapped at his ankles. An engine roared around the side and spun toward them. His boat, thank God.
But another engine was closing in.
“Drop and swim!”
They did as bullets splattered against the hull. He plunged into the water and followed Kenzie, who swam with powerful strokes toward rescue.
His men had positioned themselves perfectly, creating a barrier of suppressive fire that kept the cartel’s speedboat at bay.
Kenzie reached his boat and was hauled aboard by Barn and another of her crew members. All her crew had made it.
When Jasper reached the boat, strong hands grabbed his shoulders and yanked him aboard. He rolled onto the deck, gasping while Martinez shouted to Laguerre.
“Go! Go! Go!”
The boat lurched forward, the engines screaming as they accelerated away from the yacht. Jasper pushed himself to his knees, scanning for threats. The cartel’s speedboat had already turned back to the yacht. They were more interested in the goods on board than the crew.
“You all right?” Laguerre, his most trusted friend, crouched beside him, assessing Jasper for injuries.
“Fine.” Jasper wiped salt water from his face and crawled toward Kenzie.
She was checking on each of her crew members, whispering reassurances despite her own trembling hands.
Jasper slumped, his back against a bench, as his adrenaline ebbed. His clothes clung to his skin, heavy with seawater, and his muscles ached. But he’d done it.
He pulled his phone from its waterproof case and texted Wentz.
Gonna need your help. Stand by.
Wentz replied immediately.
With what? What did you do?
He ignored his handler’s question and shoved his phone back into his pocket.
When Kenzie settled against the opposite bench, Jasper called over the engine noise, “Everyone okay?”
She nodded. “Thank you.” The words surprised him, considering how she’d fought his every command.
“Coast Guard’s got a bird in the air,” Laguerre called from the helm. “We need to finish this before they get here.”
“Good.” Kenzie must’ve heard him. “They’ll handle it from here.”
Maybe. But Jaz couldn’t risk it. He gave Laguerre a go-ahead nod.
The boat accelerated, spray flying as they put distance between themselves and the yacht.
Kenzie wrapped an arm around her female crew member. With hair plastered to her face and clothes dripping, the woman looked even younger than she had before. She was crying silently, tears mixing with seawater.
Barn looked furious, the other crew members shocked. They probably all needed blankets and food and water.
The thought had barely formed when the timer in his head ticked to zero. The ding was silent.
The yacht exploded, sending the drugs and the pirates bent on stealing them to their fiery, watery end.