Maybe Always (Maybe Series Book 3) (6 page)

“Who died?” I ask sarcastically as I sit down at the table.
 

Hayes doesn’t sit down opposite me. Instead, he looks out the small window for a second. “You can leave,” he says to the guard.
 

“I have to stay, sir. It’s protocol,” the guard says.
 

Hayes pulls out his FBI badge. “I have classified FBI business that I need to discuss. Leave,” he says.
 

The guard frowns at Hayes. “At least let me handcuff him to the table.”
 

“That won’t be necessary. He will be leaving the jail in an hour or two anyway.”
 

The guard hesitates for a second longer and then leaves.
 

“I’m leaving, huh? Found me innocent or taking me to a high-security prison? Or maybe you think you can get me to talk about Kinsley in exchange for my freedom?”
 

“Shut up, Byrne.”
 

“Why am I here, Hayes?”
 

Hayes runs his hand through his hair and then takes a seat across from me. “Because you are right.”
 

My eyes widen. “What do you mean, I’m right? You’ve found Kinsley? Her grandfather? What else do you know?”
 

“Yes, we’ve found them. And we probably know about as much as you do now.”
 

“Where are they? Is she safe? Do you have her in custody?”
 

Hayes looks down at his hands. He won’t meet my eyes. And I know it’s bad. They have her—the drug lords, the smugglers. The monsters have her. And the FBI are breaking me out, so we can go after them.
 

He finally glances back up at me, somberly, and I swear, I see a tear in his eye.
 

“She’s dead, Byrne. They both are.”
 

I fall back in my seat. My hands go to my hair, grabbing my head that is pounding. I can’t process what he just said because she can’t be dead. She can’t be.
 

“She’s not dead,” I say.
 

“Killian…” Hayes never calls me by my first name, making me wince. “She’s gone. We found her body this morning along with her grandfather’s and mother’s. Well, what’s left of their bodies.”
 

“Show me.”
 

Hayes shakes his head. “I can’t do that. You wouldn’t be able to get that image out of your head if I showed you.”
 

“Show me,” I demand. “I need to see what they did to her. I need to see that she is actually gone to believe it.”
 

Hayes reluctantly reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone. He scrolls until he finds the picture and then slides the phone across the table to me. I pick it up.
 

I thought I could handle it. I’ve seen enough crime scene pictures of bodies that are more horrifying than this. This though rips me apart—seeing Kinsley, her grandfather, and her mother burned to pieces. They almost look unrecognizable, but I know it’s Kinsley. In my heart, I knew that they would kill them once they knew the FBI was investigating them. It gets too messy for them to keep Kinsley and her family alive. I just don’t know who
them
is yet. But I plan to.
 

I can’t hold it together any longer as tears streak down my face while I look at what is left of my beautiful princess.
 

“How did she…”
 

“Gunshot wound. She must have died instantly. They burned her body after she was already dead.”
 

I know his words are supposed to comfort me. That she died instantly. That she wasn’t in any pain. It doesn’t comfort me. Nothing ever will again.
 

Nothing.
 

Tears fall faster now, and I wish Hayes weren’t here. I hate feeling weak in front of someone else, especially him, but as I glance up through my tears, I see that he is almost just as torn apart by her death as I am. So, we both just cry across from each other. Not really connecting or trying to comfort the other. But still sharing her death all the same.
 

Hayes stops crying long before me. My tears stop long before I have come to terms with my grief. Still, when my tears dry up, Hayes takes the time to talk. Like that is something I am capable of right now.
 

“I’m going to get you out of here.”
 

Hayes waits for me to respond, but I can’t. I don’t care if I live the rest of my life in here or out there. It will feel like a prison to me either way.
 

“You can’t work for the FBI again. They don’t trust that you will follow their commands, which is all they care about. They think you’ll go rogue again. In fact, they want to give you a security detail until we close the case and make sure you are safe. You can’t go after them though. You would just get yourself killed, too. You have to let us handle it.”
 

Hayes pauses to allow me time to promise him to let the FBI handle it. I won’t promise him though.
 

“You should go home. Your family is worried about you. Even your father is worried.”
 

I look at him now, not understanding. “My father?” I croak through my dry mouth.
 

He nods. “They are at the FBI office, waiting for you. Both of your parents are a mess. They just want you to come home. Your father said he couldn’t lose another son.”
 

I nod although I can’t believe my father still cares about me. I thought going to jail would effectively end our relationship, not be the thing that brought us back together.
 

“Killian, are you listening?”
 

“Yes.”
 

“Good.”
 

“I should go. I have a lot of paperwork to do to make sure you get out of here this afternoon.”
 

I nod.
 

Hayes walks over, picks up his phone from the table, and pats me on the back. He doesn’t say anything as he walks away. He doesn’t have to. I can feel how sorry he is. And this isn’t his fault.
 

This is my fault. I was the one who promised to protect her. I was the one who failed. I am the one who failed. She’s dead, and it’s my fault. Just like it’s my fault that my brother is dead. I bring death to everyone I meet. That is why the world would be better off if I were dead. Then, I couldn’t cause anyone else to die. Then, those I loved would be safe.
 

The guard comes back into the room. He reaches down and grabs my shoulder, and I stand as he pulls me up. He puts the handcuffs back on and then guides me back to my cell where my handcuffs are removed. Then, I’m left alone. Santino is gone.
 

Now is the time to kill myself. To get rid of the pain I know I’ll never be able to escape from now that she is really gone.
 

But that’s no longer what I want. Those thoughts are completely gone from my mind, despite the pain being worse than when my brother died. When he died, I wanted to kill myself, but I realized quickly that dying wouldn’t help my brother. My penance was working for the FBI and taking over his role. But the real reason I took the FBI job was to go after his killers. I thought working for the FBI would let me get my revenge. It didn’t.
 

But, now, that’s all I see. Revenge.
 

I have to go after her killers. I have to end their lives. It’s the only way I will find peace. I can’t protect her any longer, but I can protect the future Kinsleys of the world from a few less monsters.
 

My anger overtakes my body. I grab the bedding off my bunk and rip and tear it apart until it’s a pile of shreds on the floor. I grab the pillow and rip it open, pulling the stuffing out and ripping the stuffing apart. I try to calm my anger so that I won’t start a fight with someone while I’m still in jail. If I do that, I might never get out. Or I might end up killing an innocent man.
 

My blood is pumping fast and warm through my veins as I grab Santino’s bedding as well. He might kill me for this, but I don’t care. I don’t think. I tear his bedding to pieces, just like mine. The fabric so easily bends to my will. Just like the men who hurt Kinsley will do as soon as I find them. They will be wishing they were dead pieces on the floor by the time I am done with them. Because death is not something I will give them, not until they have experienced every pain known to man. Because that is the pain Kinsley experienced. That is the pain I am going to face every day until I die.
 

“She was yours,” Santino says as he leans against the door to our cell.
 

I narrow my eyes as I toss the last piece of stuffing onto the floor. “Who?”
 

“The girl who is all over TV. The daughter of the billionaire casino owner. She was your girl.”
 

“Yes.”
 

I glance past him, and that’s when I see the TV showing nonstop coverage of Kinsley, her grandfather, and her mother. It will be all over the news for weeks. A beautiful girl like Kinsley will be hard for the news crews to just drop the story without answers and outrage from their viewers.
 

I watch Scarlett in tears on the TV. And I see that the news outlet even have Kinsley’s ex-boyfriends, Eli and Tristan, coming on next. They’ll have any person who ever spoke to her on. Every grocer, mailman, and neighbor who ever spoke to her will come on and speak. It brings me some comfort to know that she won’t easily be forgotten. That, even though she’s dead, she won’t fall from everyone’s memory. She will live on. That’s why I have to live—to keep her memory alive when the media has moved on to the next scandal.
 

“Still want a way outta here?” Santino asks.
 

I incredulously stare at him. I have a way out now. A way out where I can see my family. Where I can find out what the FBI knows about what happened to Kinsley even if they won’t let me stay on. A way where I will be watched like a hawk and have no chance at ever getting my revenge.
 

But, if I go with Santino, I will be a fugitive. The second the FBI finds me, they will send me back to jail. But, if I get my way and kill the men who killed Kinsley, I will be a fugitive anyway. Either way, I will end up back in this jail—no, in prison for the rest of my life.
 

I don’t care though. I’ll be spending my life in prison either way even if I don’t break the law. At least, if I kill them, my heart will be able to rest.
 

I look at Santino. I have no idea why he is offering to help me or what payment I will have to pay for my freedom. I don’t even know if he can get me out of here. But I know I have to take the chance.
 

“Yes, get me out of here.”
 

A slow grin curls up his face. “Wait here,” he says before he vanishes.
 

I look at the mess I’ve made and begin tossing the torn sheets back onto the bunk beds. If any of the guards see this, they will think something is up and reprimand us. I can’t take the chance, not when I’m so close to freedom and revenge.
 

I toss the last piece of stuffing back onto the bed when Santino returns.
 

“Let’s go.”
 

I follow him out of our cell, but I wish I knew what the plan was instead of just blindly following him. Now, I am completely at his mercy, and I have no idea who else might be involved in the plan.
 

As we near the edge of the main room where we all hang out, a fight breaks out across the hall.
 

“Shit,” I say under my breath. Now, we will never get out of here. The place will go into lockdown for the rest of the day, and we won’t get a chance again because Hayes will be getting me out.
 

But, when I look at Santino, he isn’t fazed at all. It’s part of the plan, I realize. But who would be willing to pose a fake fight and possibly be in here for longer just to help two other men escape? It makes no sense.
 

Santino ducks inside the kitchen, and I do the same. The kitchen is crazy with people pushing carts of food in and out of the building. It’s shipment day. The one day a week when the food for the whole jail is brought into the building, and everyone is busy pushing carts in and out as fast as they can. Prisoners and guards and chefs are all busy with moving things around. No one is paying us any attention.
 

Santino walks to the far side where a large empty crate sits, ready to be moved out of the building.
 

He opens the door to the large crate. “Get in.”
 

I climb in without a word, and Santino climbs in right after me. We don’t say a word as he closes the lid, and darkness covers us.
 

We both sit in the darkness, not moving, not speaking, barely breathing, for fear that we will be found. Eventually, the cart starts moving. We are rolled out of the building and up a ramp to what I assume is a truck. We stop for a while, and then I hear the truck moving.
 

We drive for hours. We drive so long that the tears at losing Kinsley come back. I let them out, knowing that Santino can’t see me in the darkness.
 

The truck eventually comes to a stop. To my surprise, Santino climbs out. He doesn’t wait until whatever man driving the truck is gone.
 

I climb out after him.
 

He lifts the door to the back of the truck and jumps out. I follow.
 

“Thanks, man. I owe you one,” I say.
 

Santino stops and looks at me. “I was hoping you would say that. Because I’m supposed to deliver you to my brother.”
 

Fuck
, I think as I realize where I know Santino from. It’s the last thing I think before losing consciousness.
 

Fuck.
I was wrong. They are going to kill me.