Maybe Never (Maybe #2) (22 page)

When we get to his car, he holds the door open for me, and I climb inside. He goes around to the driver’s side and immediately begins driving.
 

“Where are we going?” I ask.
 

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls out a cell phone. “I need you to meet me at the airport in half an hour with two passports—one for me and one for the girl—plenty of cash, and a flight out of here.”
 

I try to listen carefully to hear the other side of the conversation, but it’s a useless endeavor.
 

“Dang it, Hayes. I am doing this to protect her.”
 

He pauses.
 

“Fuck the FBI! They would just arrest her, which is as good as a death sentence.”
 

I shake a little when he raises his voice and when he talks about me dying if I went to jail.
 

“I’ll tell them after. We just have to get out of here right now.”
 

He pauses.
 

“Don’t give me that bullshit! Just get us out of here. Now!”
 

Killian ends the call.
 

I take a deep breath and ask again. “Where are we going?”
 

He grabs my hand. “I don’t know, but let’s try to relax and enjoy this. Pretend we are going on a surprise vacation somewhere.”
 

I smile, liking the idea that I will get to spend some quality alone time with Killian, but I hate not knowing where we are going. I hate not understanding what is happening.
 

He parks the car in front of the airport and then gets out. He is pulling me into the airport, and I have no idea how to handle this. I have no idea what’s happening. All I know is, I’m trusting a man I love, despite his lies, and I have no idea if it’s the worst or best decision I’ve ever made.
 

I drag Kinsley into the airport while doing my best to ensure her safety. I scan crowds for faces or listen for voices or look for anything that seems suspicious. I scan for anything that could be used as a weapon against us. I know I’ve been trained as an FBI agent, but I haven’t had to use any of the physical training in over five years. I’ve been strictly focused on investigating this family, not on using any physical combat skills. I’ve barely even fired a gun in five years. I feel my senses are a bit rusty when it comes to sniffing out immediate danger.
 

Kinsley’s hand is warm and shaky as I move her into the airport terminal. I try to be her rock, to keep her calm and steady, but if I’m honest, I’m just as nervous as she is. I’ve been an FBI agent for ten years now, but if she knew how many times I fucked up, she wouldn’t trust me so easily.
 

I spot Agent Hayes sitting at a table in Starbucks. He has a ball cap and shades on to make it harder to be seen on the security cameras. I’m asking a lot of him to be here. Too much even for a friend whose ass I’ve saved, which was the only positive thing I’ve done while working for the FBI. I see him, but we walk past him to the restroom. I’m not going to put him further at risk by having him being seen plainly on security tapes, handing me what I need to escape. I’m at least going to make it difficult for the FBI to convict him.

I turn to Kinsley. “Go into the restroom. Wait five minutes, and then meet me here. Understand?”
 

She nods and looks at me with concern, but she does what I ask without question. I think she finally realizes it’s useless to ask me questions right now when I won’t answer her. When we get to wherever Agent Hayes is sending us, I don’t know if I’ll tell her then either, but she’ll have a better shot of convincing me then.
 

I head into the men’s restroom and wait.
 

“Byrne?” Agent Hayes says about five seconds after I enter the restroom.
 

“Did you get the stuff?”
 

He glares at me and hands me a bag. “It’s all there.”
 

I unzip it and see the cash, passports, and tickets along with some basic clothes and toiletries to make us look more like average travelers.
 

“Thanks.”
 

“We are even now. Are you sure you know what you are doing? If you do this, you will never be able to step foot in this country again without being arrested. You are risking spending your life in jail for her. Why?”
 

“I couldn’t protect my brother. I couldn’t protect Summer, but I can protect her. I can’t live with myself if I don’t do it.”
 

“The FBI can protect her here if you would just tell us what’s going on.”
 

“I will tell them just as soon as she is out of the country and safe. I don’t trust them. I don’t trust that they won’t arrest her.”
 

“They won’t.”
 

“I need you to do one more thing for me.”
 

Agent Hayes glares at me. “You already got your one thing.”

“I want you to run facial recognition software on the security tapes at the Felton Grand.”
 

He narrows his eyes at me. “And what are we looking for?”
 

“Anyone involved in criminal activities in Mexico. I’ll let you know more soon. Just do it.”
 

He sighs and then pulls me into a quick hug. “Be safe.”

And then he’s gone. I walk back out of the restroom and find Kinsley waiting. She watches Agent Hayes leave, who doesn’t even acknowledge that she is standing there. And then she looks curiously at me.
 

“Let’s go.”
 

We walk quickly and efficiently through the crowd and get in line at security. I dig out our fake passports and hand one to Kinsley. “I’m Justin Briggs, and you’re Megan Slade.”
 

Her eyes widen.
 

“What’s wrong?”
 

“Nothing. Just…”
 

I look at the passport again. “The last name.”
 

“You know about Tristan Slade? You know what happened that night?”
 

“Yeah, it was the reason the FBI started investigating your family.”
 

She looks down at her feet. “So, it is my fault.”
 

“No.” I pull her chin up so that I can kiss her soft lips. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
 

The line moves, and we are forced to move forward, closer to TSA. I need to make sure she understands how serious this is before we get up there, and I need to get her mind off of feeling guilty, thinking she is the reason her family was investigated in the first place.
 

“You need to make sure you memorize everything on the passport. You need to know your name so that, if someone says it, you answer automatically. You need to make sure you know the birthday and birthplace. You need to have a back story so that you aren’t flustered if people ask.”
 

“Megan Joy Slade. Born May 3, 1994, in San Diego, California. I just graduated with a degree in mathematics from UCLA. Before teaching high school math this fall, I’m spending some vacation time in”—she glances at her ticket—“Tokyo, Japan, with my new boyfriend, Justin Briggs, who was born September 19, 1986, in Nashville, Tennessee. You teach business class at the local community college.”
 

I smile at how she is able to remember everything after one glance of the passports. “Wow. Impressive. You even came up with a good story. If I didn’t know better, I would suspect you of being in the FBI.”

“Nah, I’m not FBI. I’m CIA,” she says, which makes us both laugh. Her face brightens more as a thought enters her head. “Wait…when you went undercover for the FBI at Felton Corporation, you were given a new identity, but somehow, you ended up as Killian Browne—your name with only a slight variation on the last name. You fucked up, didn’t you?”
 

Now, I’m laughing at how she said the word
fuck
, like a five-year-old who doesn’t know the real meaning.
 

“Yes, I fucked up. I said the wrong name the first time I met your father, and then all I could do was change my last name, which is just a small change from my actual last name.”
 

She laughs, and it’s beautiful, seeing her laugh, even if it’s at my expense.
 

“So, what was the name you were supposed to say? What name would I have known you by if you hadn’t fucked up?”
 

“Harry Andrews.”
 

She wrinkles her nose and then laughs again. “That’s a terrible name.”
 

I laugh. “Well, I’m glad I said the wrong name then. You might never have gone for me if you thought my name was Harry.”
 

We step up to the TSA agent and hand him our passports.
 

“Have a nice trip, Justin,” the man says, handing back my passport.
 

“Enjoy your trip, Megan,” he says to Kinsley.
 

I take a deep breath. One step down and a million more to go before we make it to our destination. And I won’t be able to breathe normally until we make it to our final destination.
 

We have cramp coach seats on the airplane. I’m sitting next to the window, and Killian is in a middle seat. A teenage girl with earbuds in is sitting in the aisle seat. I want to ask Killian what is going on, but I know he won’t answer as long as she is sitting next to us, even with the earbuds on. I also don’t know if he will even talk to me after she gets up since other passengers are near us. I don’t think I can wait to get more answers until we get to Tokyo.
 

But I have to wait.
 

I wait almost three hours into the flight before the girl gets up and goes to the restroom.
 

“I need answers now,” I say in a hushed voice to Killian.
 

“I can’t tell you here,” he says, glancing around the plane.

“Killian…”
 

He eyes me.
 

“I mean, Justin. I need to know. I deserve to know.”
 

He reluctantly leans in closer to me until his lips are right at my ear. “There isn’t much more to say. All I know is that your father met with drug traffickers in Mexico. I don’t know if he knew who he was meeting with or what the connection was, but I don’t want to wait around and possibly put your life in danger if those men thought you were ratting them out to the FBI.”
 

He’s hiding something, but I don’t know what it is.
 

“So, what is the plan now?”
 

“We are going to go somewhere safe where the drug traffickers can’t find us. And then I will contact the FBI to explain why I did what I did.”
 

“And do you think the FBI is going to be okay with you harboring a fugitive? You don’t think they will take your job for this?”
 

“I think they will understand when I explain the circumstances.”
 

I nod although I’m not sure if he believes the words he said. He seems worried although maybe that’s just because he’s trying to protect me.
 

“Where are we going? How long will we have to stay there?”
 

But I realize my time is up. He’s not going to answer any more of my questions as the girl takes her seat next to him.
 

“Sleep, princess. Let me worry about everything.”
 

I force my lips into a tight smile, and then I lean back and close my eyes. I try to sleep, but I can’t. All I can think about is everything that I don’t know. Everything he isn’t telling me.
 

I glance over at Killian. He has a little drool running down his chin. I smile and wipe it off him. I snuggle into his shoulder. Even though I can’t sleep, I’m glad I can at least be with him.
 

When we finally land in Tokyo, I’m exhausted and in need of a bed. Killian holds my hand as we get off the plane and walk through customs. I’ve been to Tokyo several times with my father. I love the city. I love the architecture and the food, so I’m excited to spend some time in Tokyo with Killian.
 

We walk out to the curb, and Killian gets a taxi. He tells the driver an address, and I yawn and lean against his shoulder, barely keeping my eyes open. We drive thirty minutes before the taxi stops outside an old abandoned building.
 

“I’ll pay you double if you wait for us here for five minutes,” Killian says.
 

The driver agrees, and we step out of the car. I look around at where we are, but it doesn’t look like any of the hotels I have ever been to.

Killian grabs my hand. “We need to get new passports, and then we will go.”
 

“Why do we need new passports?”
 

“Because I don’t want anyone to have any way to track where we are.”
 

I look into the abandoned building. “How do you know this place will be able to get us new passports? How do you know about this place?”
 

He frowns at my questions.
 

“The FBI has connections.”
 

I sigh when that’s all he says. We enter the building, but I can’t see anything. It’s so dark in here.
 

“You know how you said you wanted to protect me? I’m not sure if dragging me into an abandoned building is the best way to do that.”
 

He laughs at that.

Lights come on, and an older Japanese man walks into the room.
 

“Do you have the passports?” Killian asks. I don’t remember Killian calling anyone on the plane, but he must have when he went to the restroom or when I dozed off.
 

The man nods and hands him the passports.