Chapter 9
KAI
My breath caught with a start, not so much from the commotion of Jasmine dropping a dozen eggs as from her petrified look. “What happened, babe? You okay?” I asked, crouching down behind her to grab the dustpan from under the sink.
Her whole body trembled like a live wire.
For a second, I thought she might faint, her knees threatening to buckle.
Her hands were clenched so tight at her sides her knuckles had gone white.
The sound of the eggs hitting tile still echoed in the air, a wet splatter that didn’t seem big enough to justify the terror on her face.
She stood frozen, eyes wide like she’d seen a ghost. Her voice was thin, stretched tight. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little frazzled, I guess.”
She didn’t look fine. She looked like she might shatter if anyone breathed too hard. Her pulse beat visibly at her throat, her breath hitching in short bursts. Whatever she was seeing right now, it wasn’t this kitchen. She was somewhere else entirely—somewhere I couldn’t follow.
It was the same look she’d worn with a gun barrel pressed against her skin. A look I’d give anything to erase.
I wanted to drag her back to bed, bury her under the sheets, and work on today’s orgasm number one instead of watching her unravel in my kitchen.
But she was wound so tight she might snap.
So I dropped a knee to the floor, scooping the mess myself.
“No worries.” I forced a smile up at her as I sopped the slick pile of yolks into the dustpan with a paper towel. “Frazzled is understandable.”
The smell of raw egg clung to my hands, sharp and sulfurous, a stupidly ordinary scent for a moment that felt anything but normal.
After what we’d been through, “frazzled” was the understatement of the century.
“Thanks,” she said softly, but there was an anxious edge in her voice. “I’m sorry I made a mess, and ruined our omelet.”
I dumped the shells and goo into the trash under the sink. “I don’t have much of an appetite, to be honest.” My stomach had been in knots since last night. No food was going to settle that.
Images kept flashing—her wrists bound, the sneer of the men demanding what I didn’t have. It was a wonder either of us could even stand upright, let alone think about breakfast.
“That’s a first,” Reef said from behind us, chuckling like he’d just delivered the line of the day. His voice carried that cocky edge it always did, but hearing it now made Jasmine flinch, her body tightening like a wire pulled too taut.
“Yeah, well, we had a little incident here last night,” I said, drying my hands. “That’s why Jasmine is so skittish.”
“Hi, Jasmine. I’m Reef.” He stuck out his hand, the easy grin not quite hiding the sharp way his eyes studied her. But Jasmine just stared at the hand like it might bite her. She flicked her gaze to me, and I saw it clearly this time—terror.
She was scared shitless because I’d just broken our pact. We’d agreed: not a word to anyone. And now I was blabbing to my twin. The warning in her eyes gutted me, but I couldn’t pull it back. Reef and I didn’t keep secrets. Not ever. And I couldn’t start now.
“Sorry, I didn’t introduce you,” I said, stepping into the awkward silence. “This is my twin brother, Reef.”
“I gathered that,” she said, finally lifting the corners of her mouth into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Nice to meet you.” Her tone was brittle, like glass ready to crack. The words didn’t match the storm in her eyes.
Reef left his hand out a beat longer before dropping it, brow furrowing. “You look familiar. You local?”
“I guess so.” Her voice trembled just slightly. “I’ve only been here a few months officially. Does that count as local?”
“Since you’ve been coming down for years, we’ll waive the thirteen-month requirement,” I joked, trying to lighten her mood.
Reef chuckled. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen you around.”
Jasmine didn’t smile. “It’s a small town,” she said weakly, her shoulders drawn tight like she was ready to bolt. Her hands fidgeted at the hem of her shirt, twisting the fabric like she needed an anchor. Her gaze kept sliding toward the door, like she was calculating escape routes.
“Jasmine’s bartending at the Whistle Stop while she builds her art empire.” I studied her expression, gauging how far I could push. “She’s an amazing painter. Check out her work.” I gestured toward the canvas still propped in the chair.
Reef went over, picked it up, and turned it toward the window light. “This is good. The light’s incredible.” His voice softened. “Our brother got married out there a few months back. At Alligator Lighthouse.” He smiled faintly at Jasmine.
“How’d they manage that?” she asked me, almost absentmindedly like she didn't really care but was making conversation.
“Good question. It was a logistical challenge for sure,” I said, rinsing my hands under the faucet, watching her from the corner of my eye.
She was barely hanging on, but her curiosity about the wedding gave me a sliver of hope.
I started to describe how we'd rounded up boats from all our friends to get all the guests out there.
But my brother spoke before I had the chance.
“What incident?” he asked, still holding the painting. He glanced back at Jasmine. “The reason you’re skittish… What incident?”
Her eyes locked onto mine, wide, pleading. A look that said: don’t.
But I did. “Jasmine and I had visitors when we came home late last night.”
“Visitors?” Reef’s voice sharpened. “Who?”
“The guys that were supposed to pick up that square grouper I found.”
“Oh, shit,” he said, his voice falling as his eyebrows shot up. "They came knocking? What for?"
Jasmine’s hand shot out, clutching my forearm. “Kai, I don’t think we sh—”
“We need help,” I cut in, covering her hand with mine and squeezing harder than she was. “We have to.”
Her grip was ice-cold, trembling against my skin. Fear radiated off her, and still I pushed forward. I hated myself for it, but I didn’t see another option.
“What the fuck happened?” Reef demanded, his tone louder, urgent now. “You’re freaking me out.”
“We came home from the Whistle just after two, and they were inside when we arrived."
"Inside?" Reef's voice boomed. "They broke into the house? What the fuck?"
Jasmine let out a huff and turned her head, like she couldn't bear witness to me spilling the beans.
"Yes. They broke in. And after tying us up, they shook us down at gunpoint for ten kilos of missing coke. According to them, the drop contained double what was reported. So they thought I had the rest since I was the one who found it.”
Reef’s mouth twisted, disbelief written across his face. He staggered backward and set the painting down in the chair.
"At gunpoint?" Reef blinked, eyes full of concern darting between us. Jasmine wasn't looking at either of us but I could see the terror on her face. "Jesus fucking Christ," he continued, voice rising as he paced. "Are you guys okay?"
"Yeah, pretty much. It was shocking, to say the least. But we survived."
He ran his hands through his wet hair, still pacing. "Let me get this straight. They came here because they think you stole half the coke before reporting it?"
Jasmine shot me a glare before going to the sink, trying to remove herself from the retelling. "That's what they said," I told him, eyes flicking to watch Jasmine scrub a coffee mug I'd left in the sink.
“That’s fucking ridiculous," Reef barked. "Who would call it in if they were going to keep half? Why not just keep it all and save the Coast Guard paperwork hassle?”
“Those goons don’t know shit about paperwork. Nor do they care. They just want their drugs.” My throat tightened, remembering the muzzle pressed to Jasmine’s temple. “Fortunately, after a long deliberation, they let us go after I convinced them I didn’t have it.”
“By promising to help them find it,” Jasmine added, her voice edged with salt.
The bitterness in her tone sliced me open. She wasn’t wrong—I’d sold us both into a bargain I had no idea how to honor.
“It was the best idea I could come up with under the circumstances,” I said, forcing a smile that felt hollow. My stomach churned at the memory. They would be back. And I had no idea what the hell to do. “Know any coke dealers?” I asked Reef.
Reef’s brows shot up. “That I’d want to fuck over? Have you lost your mind?”
“So far all I have are these scrapes on my wrists from the zip ties when they tied us up at gunpoint.” I held out my hands, showing the raw marks.
The angry red welts stood out against my skin, proof of how close we’d come.
Proof I couldn’t scrub away, no matter how hard I tried.
Meeting Reef’s eyes, I added quietly, “I’d like to keep it that way. ”
Reef’s face hardened as realization sank in. “Fuck. We should call Waylan.”
“Yeah, well…” I started.
At the same time, Jasmine asked, “Who’s Waylan?”
“Our dad’s best friend,” Reef explained. “He’s like an uncle. And also the Sheriff.”
“No, no cops! We promised,” Jasmine cut in, urgency sharpening her tone.
Her voice cracked on the word, her whole body shaking with the force of it. The idea of a uniform showing up clearly terrified her more than the smugglers did. Her panic pierced through me to my core.
“Of course,” Reef said quickly, though there was an edge of annoyance in his voice. “So what now?”
“We ask around and see if we can find anything out,” I said, sagging against the counter. “At least give the impression we’re trying. I don’t have much hope we’ll actually find it, but maybe it’ll buy us time.”
“Sounds like a shit plan,” Reef exhaled hard, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I don’t have a better one."
“Agreed.” My weight slumped into my palms on the countertop. Hope was draining out of me by the second. We were fucked.
The word echoed in my skull, pounding with every heartbeat: fucked. There was no map for this, no safe way forward, only choices that would all cost too much.
“I suppose we best try to find that coke then,” Reef said finally.
“Thanks, man.” I glanced at Jasmine, her face pale but set. “Keep this on the super down low.”
“What he means is, tell no one else,” Jasmine added, her tone sharp, commanding.
“You have my word,” Reef said carefully. Then he turned to me with a strained smile. “I’ll see you at the marina after my trip?”
“Yeah, see you there,” I said, trying for casual and missing it.
Reef shifted back to Jasmine, his tone softening. “Try to relax. No need to be so jumpy. We’ll take care of it.”
His words sounded like reassurance, but his eyes told another story—one of doubt and dread.