Maybe Always (Maybe Series Book 3) (15 page)

I’m afraid, as soon as she walks out the door, I will lose her forever. I’m afraid the pain will return, and I won’t survive. But maybe that’s for the best. Maybe, if I die, she will live.
 

I close the door behind me, and I lose all control of my feelings. My feelings all mix together, and I no longer know how I feel. Happy or sad. Hopeful or defeated. Satisfied or longing. Everything mixes the second the door closes to the only person left that I truly love.
 

I look down the hallway to where Karp was sitting earlier, watching guard. He’s still sitting there, but his eyes are no longer open. His head is drooped down, and I can hear him snoring from here.
 

My shoulders relax a little as I see him asleep. I should have a clear shot back to my bedroom. The only person who might see me is whoever is watching the security cameras tonight. That is, if they are awake enough to keep an eye on the screens.
 

I don’t hesitate to wait and see if anybody is going to notice me. Instead, I walk down the long hallway that feels of death to the stairwell. I climb down the stairs to where my bedroom is.
 

I pull the door open to my room, but the door is slammed shut. My whole body jumps, and my eyes close automatically at the sudden movement. I turn to see who it is, expecting Nacio or Santino. Instead, I find Seth breathing down my neck, just inches from me.
 

“What were you doing?” he asks.
 

I cross my arms and give him a stern look. “I was getting my revenge on Killian. I didn’t think he had been punished enough. I wanted him to suffer more. I also wasn’t sure about what you were able to get out of him. I wanted to see what other information he would tell us.”
 

I turn to walk into the room that will be my bedroom for one more night, but Seth doesn’t remove his hand from the door. He doesn’t allow me access to the room.
 

“I don’t believe you tortured him. I don’t believe you could torture anyone. And you aren’t supposed to leave your room without permission. It’s not allowed.”
 

“Well, I did. Go check him yourself, and you will see.”
 

Seth grabs my arm and pushes me hard against the wall. He pulls a gun out from the waistband of his pants but doesn’t aim it at my head. He just casually holds it, letting me know he could use it.
 

Except he can’t use it. Nacio would be pissed. Santino would be pissed. Grandfather would be pissed. And Seth would be the next one to die.
 

I smile, looking at the gun. “You aren’t going to shoot me. Don’t even pretend.”
 

His frown deepens, and his face turns scarlet red. “You don’t get to give me orders. Not yet.”
 

I smile wider. “Neither do you. Now, I suggest you let me go to bed if you don’t want me to speak to Nacio about your actions.”
 

Seth slowly releases me, still holding his gun by his side.
 

I walk past him and open the door to the barracks that serves as my bedroom and walk inside. I quickly close the door behind me and lock the door that won’t hold anyone out. I wait at the door, listening silently, until I hear his footsteps walking away. Then, I walk through the dark room to the bunk that I have made into my bed.
 

I don’t notice the smell anymore. I don’t notice the dirt on the floor or the stains on the bed.
 

I don’t even think about Seth. I don’t think about the fact that he will report my actions to Nacio. I don’t think about the fact that Nacio could kill me before I even have a chance to explain.
 

All I think about is Killian. I think about how it felt to have his muscles flexing beneath me. I think about how his lips devoured mine. I think about how his cock claimed me. I wish those were all the things I could think about. But along with the most pleasurable moments with Killian also come the most painful.
 

My body shakes as I remember seeing Killian tied up. His body was obviously broken from torture. His heart was broken at the thought that I no longer loved him.
 

That is what destroyed me worse than seeing any of the painful marks that crossed his body. I hate that I was the one who caused him so much pain.
 

I hate that I had to use the whip to bring him more pain so that we could both experience pleasure. Somehow though, the pain of the whip brought us closer together instead of further apart. I don’t understand why, but I enjoyed the power the whip gave me over Killian. Torturing him turned me on. The power turned me on. I was afraid hurting him would make him hate me, but instead, it made him just as excited as I was.
 

If we both survive this, I will have to remember to bring more excitement into the bedroom. The only problem is, I don’t think we will both survive tomorrow, let alone live long enough to experiment more with whips, canes, and bondage.
 

I try to push Killian out of my head. I try to think of anything else, but my thoughts keep coming back to him. I lie down on the bed, trying my best to sleep.
 

But I can’t sleep. If I sleep, I’m afraid my dreams will be of the girl who died. Or of what Nacio said about Killian killing my father. Or I’ll dream of having to kill Killian.
 

So, I won’t dream. I won’t sleep. I can’t. Instead, I will just relive my last night with Killian over and over and pretend that tomorrow will never come.
 

***

“Pull the trigger,” Nacio says.
 

I hold the gun in my hand, but I don’t understand why I would pull the trigger. Why would I want to kill anyone?
 

“Kill him. He killed your father. Kill him.”

His words anger me. I want nothing more than to kill whoever killed my father. I loved my father. No matter what he did, he didn’t deserve to die. I turn toward the man who is kneeling on the ground.
 

Killian.
 

“I can’t kill him,” I say.
 

“Yes, you can. Kill him. Pull the trigger. Gain our trust.”
 

“No.”
 

“Kill him, or we will kill you.”
 

“No.”
 

“It’s you or him.”
 

Tears threaten, but I don’t let them out.
 

“Choose now.”
 

I look at Killian, who nods, giving me permission to kill him.
 

I pull the trigger…

“Wake up, sweetheart. It’s time to go.”
 

I open my eyes and try to remain calm, but I can’t stop my chest from rising and falling way too fast. I can’t stop the panting or hide the sweat that has formed on my face.
 

I sit up, wiping the sweat off my forehead that was caused by the dream that I’m too afraid will become my reality.
 

“You okay, sweetheart?” Nacio asks.
 

I yawn, trying to calm my speeding heart. “I’m fine. Just thrown from being woken up so early in the morning.”
 

“It’s time to go.”
 

“Go where?”
 

Nacio just smiles and walks away.
 

I groan and stretch before I get out of bed. I couldn’t have slept more than an hour or two. I tried not to sleep, but somehow, sleep must have found me.
 

I rub my arms, feeling cold. I stand and walk to the bed across from mine where I piled up my clothes. I dig through the clothes, trying to find something suitable to wear. Something that won’t make me feel like a complete slut.
 

I don’t find anything. I change my bra into a white crop top that might as well be a bra. I grab the jacket that Santino lent to me. I slip it on and then walk out into the hallway where Nacio is waiting for me.
 

He frowns when he sees the jacket. “Where did you get that?”
 

I shrug and yawn again. “Where are we going?”
 

“To our next base of operations.”
 

I swallow hard, trying to calm my nerves that are creeping back up again. I don’t know where the next place is or what it holds, which is what scares me the most.
 

“Let’s go,” Nacio says, holding out his arm to me.
 

I ignore it.
 

“Shouldn’t I pack my clothes and things first?”
 

“No. I’ll have the other men pack up your clothing and bring it when they come. We have a flight to catch.”

I nod.
 

Nacio waits a second longer for me to grab ahold of his arm. When I don’t grab ahold of it, he sighs and then walks to the stairwell. I follow. We climb down the stairs without saying a word before I realize that I don’t have my purse with my phone in it.
 

“One second. I need to go back to grab my purse.”
 

“We don’t have time.”
 

“I’ll be just a second. My passport is in there.”
 

“You won’t need a passport.”
 

“We aren’t leaving the country?”

“We are, but you don’t need a passport.”
 

“I would like to have my phone and IDs.”
 

Nacio grabs my arm and leads me to the exit of the building. “We don’t have time, and like I said before, you won’t need them. We will make sure you have everything you need once we get there.”

I want to protest again, but I don’t. My phone was the only way I had to contact the outside world. It was my security to call in the police if I got that desperate. Now, I have nothing.

I walk outside, happy to taste some fresh air after being stuck inside the building for days. It is still dark outside, making me suspect even more that it is very early in the morning. My best guess is three or four. The only sound I hear is the gentle humming of the two vans parked outside the building. The windows on both of the vans are dark, making it impossible to see inside.
 

Nacio opens the door to the first van. “Ladies first,” he says to me, holding the door open for me.
 

I climb into the van and notice Seth and Santino are already sitting in the backseat. I take the middle, and Nacio climbs in after me.
 

A man I don’t recognize climbs into the front seat and then quickly begins driving. The car ride is silent. I suspect everyone is too tired to be up for any conversation.
 

I lean my head against the van window and watch the broken, old buildings roll by. The buildings quickly turn from broken down to shiny, new hotels that make up most of the city.

Nacio slings his arm around my shoulders. I turn and glare at him, but he isn’t looking at me. His head is resting against the headrest with his eyes closed. I sigh and surrender to having his arm around my shoulders for the rest of the van ride.
 

I’m tempted to close my own eyes as we drive. My eyes grow heavy with each sway of the van, but I can’t close my eyes. Not with Seth in the back. At any moment, he might decide to tell Nacio or Santino of my actions last night. If I fall asleep, I could dream of Killian, and I can’t take the chance that I might talk in my sleep. So, I don’t sleep. I stay awake as the van drives and drives.
 

The van slows as we reach an airport. I assume the driver will stop out front and drop us off. He doesn’t though. He drives up to a metal gate. I watch as he rolls down his window.
 

A man speaks in barely audible Spanish over the speaker, but it must be audible enough to our driver because he says, “The Marlows are here.”
 

A loud buzzer sounds, waking up Nacio. The gate opens, and the driver drives us through and onto the tarmac of the airport. We drive a little farther, and then the van parks in front of a large private plane. My mouth drops as I realize this is how we are flying.
 

I’ve flown private several times before with my father, but I guess I didn’t think a bunch of criminals would fly privately. It makes sense though, as there would be less questions. But, even with the size of the plane, I know the number of men I saw earlier will not fit on the plane. They also won’t fit in the two vans that drove us here.
 

I turn to Nacio. “How are the rest of the men getting to wherever we are going? They won’t all fit on the plane, will they?”
 

He studies me for a second and then opens the door. “No, they won’t fit,” he says as he climbs out of the car.
 

I quickly climb out after him, not satisfied with his answer. “Then, how are they getting there?”
 

“They aren’t.”
 

“What do you mean?”
 

“They are staying behind for the FBI to find.”
 

I raise my eyebrows, not fully understanding. “Alive or…”
 

He smirks at me and then softly pats me on the cheek, like I’m a child. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he walks over to the plane and climbs the stairs, leaving me standing on the tarmac alone.
 

But I have my answer. The men that I saw and had dinner with. The men whom I realized were just ordinary men. Nothing more or less. Just trying to survive. Most of them are now dead or will be.
 

Santino grabs my arm, bringing me back to the present. “Come on. You won’t get a good seat on the plane if you don’t.”
 

I smile and follow Santino onto the plane. The inside of the plane is large. Larger than most of the private planes I have been on before. The first area is made to look like a living room. Two large couches that could easily hold half a dozen men line each side of the living room. A flat screen TV sits in the corner. I walk past the living room and find a large bar that is already stocked full with food and drinks.