Maybe Always (Maybe Series Book 3) (4 page)

I sigh, but I leave the money in the backseat. Surely, he will take the money after I leave.
 

I slowly get out of the car. My feet in heels are unstable while walking on the gravel, but I walk steadily anyway toward the door, my destiny.
 

I think about my father. I hate him. I hate him for what he did. I hate him for writing me the letter that I left in the hotel room. I couldn’t bring it with me.
 

He supposedly wrote the letter to protect me, to keep me safe. He wrote it to ask for forgiveness.
 

It’s all bullshit. He didn’t write the letter to protect me. He wrote the letter because he knew I was the only one who could put a stop to everything. And he knew that if he told me not to go, I would. He wrote because he thought I could save him from his sins. He was right.
 

I take a step forward and then another and another. My anger overtakes any fear and keeps it buried deep inside me.
 

I glance up and only see the moonlight shining down on me. The cab driver drove away the second my feet hit the ground. I’m all alone.
 

I walk up to the abandoned building. I don’t have to do this. It’s not my responsibility to put an end to this. I don’t even know if I can put an end to this. I don’t even have a very good plan. My plan is based on convincing everyone that I want to follow in my family’s footsteps. Then, I’ll either convince my grandfather to put an end to it or call the police once I’ve infiltrated them, know who all the players are, and have evidence against them. It’s a terrible plan, but it’s all I have. And I’m not turning back now.
 

I walk to the door and press my ear against it, trying to hear anything inside. I hear nothing but silence.
Is anyone even here? Could I be wrong? Could this address be an old one?
It might be too late. They might have already moved on to a new address that I might never be able to find.
 

I try to decide if I should knock or just open the door and head in. Neither seems like a good option, but I decide it is better to be invited in than to walk around a dark building until someone finds me.
 

I just need to tell them my name. As soon as I do, they will have to listen. I don’t know who is the boss in all of this, my family or someone else, but I do know if they want to continue working with my family, they will have to hear me out.
 

So, I move my ear from the door and force my hand to form a fist. Then, I knock as loudly as I can against the wooden door. I wince when the sound echoes in the alleyway. I glance behind myself to see whom I might have pissed off, but I don’t hear a sound, and I don’t see anyone. I turn back to the door and don’t hear any movement inside.
 

I wait a few minutes and try knocking again.
 

Nothing.
 

Damn it!
 

I was wrong. I’m out of clues. I’m at a dead end. If they aren’t here, I have no idea where they are. I have no idea where to find them. Everything I just did was for nothing.
 

I turn and walk away from the door while digging in my purse to pull out my cell phone. Now, I have to convince a cab driver to pick me up here.
Yeah, that’s going to happen.
I glance down at my heels that now look like a terrible choice now that I have to walk to a safer area before I can get a ride back to my hotel.
 

“Don’t move,” a deep voice says.
 

My heart skips a beat at the sound. I drop my purse.
Shit
.
 

I steady my breathing and open my mouth to speak. “I’m—”
 

“Shut up, bitch,” the man says as he presses a gun into my back.
 

I close my eyes. I’m going to die before I even had a chance to speak.
 

I gather myself and try again though because I know it is my only chance at surviving long enough to get inside. “I’m Kins—”
 

“I said, shut up!”
 

That’s when I feel something hard come into contact with my head. My last thought is of Killian and his beautiful grin that is only for me. How I yearn to see it just one more time, but now, I never will.
 

“Breakfast!” the officer yells as the door to the cell opens.
 

I don’t move though. Instead, I close my eyes and turn over in bed. I’ve been in this jail for three days now. And, for three days, I’ve barely existed. I haven’t eaten. I haven’t showered. I haven’t shaved. I haven’t watched TV or read. And I haven’t heard anything from anyone.
 

The only time I even seem alive is in the afternoon when I get an hour to make as many phone calls as I want. And, even though I know my calls are being monitored, it hasn’t stopped me from trying to call Kinsley and her damn grandfather who got us both into this mess. It hasn’t stopped me from calling my parents or Hayes. I’ve tried them all, but none of them answer. None of them give me any answers or peace.
 

So, when my time is up, I slump back to my bed and spend most of the day thinking.
 

I think about how the hell I’m going to get out of here. How the hell am I going to fulfill my promise to Robert Felton if I’m in here? How the hell am I going to protect Kinsley? I can’t lose another person I love because I was stupid or too weak to save them. I won’t survive. If Kinsley dies, even working for the FBI won’t bring me any comfort or purpose in my life, not that they will take me back.
 

I just don’t want to keep living if she is dead. I’ve already thought about ways to end my life in here if she dies. There are so many ways. It would almost be too easy. There’s hanging. I could get into a brawl with one of the gangs. They would easily seek their revenge on me. I could overdose on drugs. I could slit my wrists with a razor. Or I could starve myself to death. I have so many choices.
 

I realize now what jail does to people. I’ve been here for only three days, and I’m already choosing death over living in here. Just three days without her. That’s all I can bear.
 

I shouldn’t be thinking about death. I should be thinking about how to get out of here and how to save her. But the truth is, even if I find a way out of here, even if the FBI lets me go today, there is a good chance she is already dead.

I grab my head as the painful thoughts overtake it, bringing such sharp pain that it is almost impossible to bear. I try to wait for the pain to disappear again, like it always does, but each time I think about her, it takes my brain longer and longer to push out the pain. I can’t keep living like this much longer.
 

She’s dead. I know it. She’s dead, and I will be, too, as soon as someone confirms it. I’ll be gone.
 

I just don’t know when or if I’ll ever find out the truth. I haven’t even been told how long I will be in here. I don’t know if I will have to face a trial or if the FBI are just going to use some national security law to keep me locked away. I know nothing, so I choose to do nothing but sleep.

I’ve tried talking with the FBI. I’ve tried reasoning with them. I’ve tried to explain that Kinsley isn’t guilty, that I’m not guilty, and that we have to save her because she isn’t safe. They won’t listen to anything. All they want to know is where she is so that they can bring her in, but they don’t understand that by moving in, it would let the criminals that work with Kinsley’s family know that FBI are there, and they would kill her before the FBI had a chance to save her.
 

“Here,” my roommate says, tossing some things onto my stomach.
 

I open my eyes, despite the pain I still feel in my head at the thought that Kinsley is most likely dead. If she went to Mexico, she’s dead. Even if her grandfather is there, it won’t matter.
 

I look at what the man threw me. A protein bar, a bag of Doritos, and a banana now lie on my stomach.
 

I sit up in my bed and look at my cellmate. I still haven’t asked his name, despite sharing a cell with him for three days now. I run my hands through my hair, not understanding why he is giving me any of his food.
 

“The breakfast here is shit. Just tasteless oatmeal.” He nods in my direction. “Eat. You’ll need your strength if you are going to survive in here.”
 

I unwrap the protein bar and take a bite. I know I can’t turn down the food that he paid for even if the food he is offering me isn’t much better then what the jail serves. Who knows what he did to get this food in the first place.

The first drop of the protein bar hits my stomach, and my body roars to life. I feel the ache in my stomach for the first time since I’ve gotten here, and I feel each bite of food ease the pain. It just makes me eat faster. I finish the bar and quickly move on to the banana. And, when I’m finished with the banana, I quickly move on to the Doritos, despite the fact that they have no real nutritional value. They might as well be little pieces of cardboard. But when I place the first bite of the cheesy goodness, I forget about that. It tastes better than any vegetable or healthy piece of meat I’ve ever eaten.
 

“Thanks,” I say with a mouthful of Doritos.
 

The man nods but doesn’t say anything. He just sits in the chair across from my bed, waiting until I’m finished chewing. That’s when I realize that maybe I shouldn’t have taken the food. He might think I owe him something for consuming his food.
 

“I’m Santino Marlow,” the man says when I’m finished.
 

“Killian Byrne,” I say, extending my hand.
 

The man just stares at me like he has no idea what I’m doing. I pull my hand back.
Fuck, I’m an idiot.
 

“I’ll pay you back for the food.”
 

He smirks at me. “No need. That was nothing to me.”

I nod.
 

I have no idea what this guy wants. He looks like a majority of the other men in here. Tattoos cover his muscular body. His head is shaved. He looks like he belongs in here. So unlike me. I stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this.
 

“It’s not what you think,” he says.
 

“What?”
 

“The reason I’m in here. I’m not a druggie. I don’t sell drugs. I didn’t steal shit. I’m not in a gang.”
 

“Then, why are you here?” I ask, risking getting punched.
 

But hearing this guy’s story might just be the distraction I need to get me through today. At the very least, it would reduce the pain I feel right now.
 

“I’m in here because of a girl.”
 

My eyes widen.
 

“And I suspect it’s the same reason you are in here.”
 

I nod.
 

“The key to surviving without the girl you love is to talk about it. It will kill you if not. I tried to keep it buried inside. I thought, if anyone in here found out, they would think I was a pussy, and I’d get jumped. The opposite happened though. They understood because every guy in here has a girl at home. Everyone has a bitch they miss.”

He pauses and takes a bite of an apple I didn’t see he was holding in his hand.

“I’m in here because my girl disappeared. Vanished. Nobody knows where she is.” He shakes his head. “They think I did it just because we fought. I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t lay a finger on her.” He looks up at me. “The key to not thinking about them is to keep busy.”
 

He stands and motions for me to follow. So I do.
 

“We have time in the yard this morning. You play ball?”
 

I shrug.
 

“Good.”
 

I follow Santino out to the yard where a concrete basketball court with two hoops that are barely standing upright sit. A dozen men or so are already involved in a game. One man shoots but misses the hoop entirely.

“Get out of there, Kenny,” Santino says to a scrawny man that can’t be much older than eighteen.
 

The man obediently walks off the court, like he’s too afraid not to do exactly what he was told. I understand the feeling. Outside, I felt powerful and in control. In here, I have no powers. I barely even understand the rules.
 

“Who’s this?” a man double my size says to Santino.
 

I’m not going to let Santino answer for me.
 

“Killian. Here to play,” I say.
 

He glares at me. “Can you?”
 

I take the ball from his hand, and then I dribble and shoot what should be a three-pointer. The ball goes in with ease.
 

I turn back to him. “I’ll be taking Kenny’s place.”
 

I spend the next hour on the court. It feels good to be running and sweating again. Although I’m not the best player on the team, I pull my weight enough not to get treated like Kenny. My team easily wins.
 

Santino was right. Distraction is the best way to spend my time here. As long as I’m doing something, I’m not thinking about Kinsley. I’m not living in constant pain.
 

I grab a cup of water and take a seat at one of only two benches near the court area.
 

Santino walks over and takes a seat next to me. “Tell me about your girl.”
 

I sip on the water. “She’s the same as your girl. She disappeared. The only difference is, I know where she is. I just can’t tell the FBI. If I do, she will die.” I take another sip of my water. “She might die anyway if I don’t get out of here.”
 

Santino nods, staring straight ahead, as he sips his water. “I might be able to help you with that,” he says without looking at me.