Maybe Always (Maybe Series Book 3) (11 page)

I can’t believe her. I can’t believe she would so willingly kiss another man. I thought I was her life. I was wrong. I’m a fucking idiot.
 

I should have chosen the FBI, not her. She’s willingly working here. She could have left at anytime, but instead, she’s staying here. For all I know, she’s been participating in the smuggling, in the rapes, in the killings. For all I know, she is a monster, just like everyone else in this room.
 

“Thank you,” she says.
 

I open my eyes to a smug Nacio beaming from the kiss, like he has just won. He won. I lost. Now, I just want them to get this over with and put a bullet between my eyes.
 

“It doesn’t change anything, Nacio. I’m not going to marry you,” Kinsley says.
 

Nacio’s face drops a little.
 

The men around the room are all staring at the exchange between the two of them. I suspect that it was not something that Nacio wanted Kinsley to share with everyone. He didn’t want her to share that she had turned down his proposal, but it makes me feel better to know that she isn’t going to marry the smug fucker—at least, not yet.
 

He raises his eyebrows at Kinsley, but she stands defiantly next to him, not backing down. I don’t quite understand the relationship between the two, but if I know anything about Kinsley—which I’m not sure I do—I know she is stubborn as hell and won’t back down, not when she decides on what she really wants.
 

Nacio walks over to her and whispers something in her ear. She frowns but doesn’t say anything further.
 

Nacio pulls a gun out of the back of his jeans and hands it to Kinsley. “Kill him,” Nacio says to her while motioning to me.
 

“What?” she says, frozen with the gun in her hand.
 

Kill him
, I think.
Kill Nacio
.
 

We won’t survive, but at least the ringleader in all of this would be dead, too. At least the man who forced Kinsley to kiss him would be dead.
 

“Kill the FBI agent. After all, he’s the reason your father is dead. Kill him, and avenge your father.”
 

I hold the gun in my hand. It’s heavier than I thought it would be. For such a small thing, it feels heavy in my hand. I can’t stop staring at it.
 

This tiny object is the cause of so many people dying. So many lives have been lost all because of this weapon. Those lives might not have been lost if the person hadn’t had a weapon that so easily separated them from the crime they were committing. If they’d had to use a knife instead of a gun, would so many killings have happened? If they’d had to get their hands dirty with the victim’s blood, would they still have done it? If they’d had to really think about it and plan it with a bomb, would they still have done it?
 

I hold the gun in my hand. How easy it would be for me to aim the gun at Killian and pull the trigger. It wouldn’t even feel like I’m really killing him because this gun doesn’t feel dangerous. It doesn’t feel any different than holding any other inanimate object. But it is. This object is the most powerful of all.
 

I could do it. I could kill Killian and secure my place here. I would have all the power if I did. I know Nacio thinks I can’t do it. He’s still suspicious of why I’m here. He thinks I still love Killian.
 

He’s right. I do.
 

The second I saw Killian walk into the cafeteria, my heart stopped. The one thing I was trying to prevent from happening has happened. And, now, everything that I have been through over the last few days without Killian has been for nothing. Now, we are both going to die.
 

I tried to hide behind the table of men blocking Killian from me. I thought, if I hid, then nobody would be able to see my feelings so clearly plastered all over my face. There’s no way for me to hide how I feel about Killian.
 

When Nacio called me to the center of the room, I couldn’t bear to look at Killian for more than one second. If I did that, the whole room would know that I still loved Killian, that I always did. They would know and shoot us both without a second thought. So, I didn’t look at him for more than a second. I tried to remain frozen. I tried to remain careless. I tried to look at anybody but Killian, tied, standing in front of me.
 

When I saw him so broken and in so much pain at the sight of me, I almost couldn’t stand it myself. I couldn’t stand remaining by Nacio and not running to Killian. Even if it meant we would both die, it meant I could die wrapped in his arms. I could die loving him. Death might be worth one final embrace. One final kiss.
 

I didn’t though. I stayed by Nacio’s side. And I did the only thing I could think of that would make Nacio less suspicious about my relationship with Killian. I kissed Nacio. It wasn’t a gentle, chaste kiss either. I forced my tongue into Nacio’s mouth as our lips collided together. I grabbed the nape of this neck, keeping his lips firmly against mine. I moaned just a little as his tongue pressed against mine. I put everything I could into the kiss.
 

And, now, I won’t be able to live with myself for doing it. I won’t be able to live with myself for kissing anyone but Killian. I won’t be able to forgive myself for kissing another man in front of Killian, especially since that might be the last image of me he ever sees. I hate that I put a small drop of doubt into Killian’s head, making him think that I don’t love him. But I already did that with the note I wrote him. I already planted that seed in his head. With the kiss, I just confirmed that he means nothing to me.
 

I shiver from the cold draft in the room, bringing me back to the present. I resist the urge to wrap my arm around my chest to warm myself. I hate that I’m basically wearing a bra in front of a dozen men, but I can’t let Nacio see me as weak. He has to see me as an equal, so I won’t let him know that he has won with the clothing he bought for me, considering this outfit was the most covered one he bought. I should be thankful for the clothing. Revealing clothing makes it easier to control these men. It makes it easier for them to think that I am just a sex object and not a person who schemes and plans and wants power of her own.
 

“On your knees,” Santino says to Killian.
 

I glance up in time to see that Killian hasn’t moved. He’s standing tall in front of us, just like he always does. Santino forces him into a kneeling position. I don’t know why it matters whether he stands or kneels if he is going to be shot and killed either way. I guess kneeling makes it easier for me to shoot him. If he’s standing, he might run at the last second.
 

I take a chance and look into Killian’s eyes as he kneels in front of me. They’re dark and intense, like always. When I look at them, I realize he’s in a lot of pain, not necessarily physical but just pain. I’ve hurt him in unforgivable ways, but I still see love there. When I see it, I look away, back to the gun in my hand, hoping that I am the only one who can see the love still there in his eyes.
 

“Kill him,” Nacio commands again from behind me.
 

What I really want to do is kill Nacio. He deserves it for what he’s done. If I did that though, all the men sitting at the table on either side would shoot me next before I even had a chance to react.
 

“Kill him for what he did to your father,” Nacio says.
 

I have to know. Before I figure out if I have any options other than killing Killian, I have to know what Nacio is talking about.
 

“What do you mean, Killian killed my father?” I ask Nacio.
 

“Killian is the reason your father is dead. Your father didn’t die from a heart attack. Killian killed him.”
 

“Why? Why would he do that?”
 

“When your father found out Killian was FBI, Killian did the only thing he could to save himself. He killed your father first before your father could kill him, before his cover was blown and we found out he was FBI.”
 

Nacio smirks at Killian. “We found out anyway.”

“Lies!” Killian screams suddenly from the ground. “It’s all lies!”
 

I glance from Nacio to Killian in time to see Killian getting kicked in the back by Santino.
 

“Shut up, or I’ll shoot you myself,” Santino says.
 

Killian squeezes his eyes shut, most likely dealing with the pain from being kicked hard in the back. I watch his breathing become uneven as he tries to deal with the pain.
 

I turn back to Nacio, unable to watch Killian in pain without feeling it myself. But, when Nacio speaks about Killian killing my father, he doesn’t seem to be lying. He’s telling the truth—or what he believes to be true. Killian was involved in my father’s death. I just don’t know in what way exactly.
 

A week or two ago, that would have hurt me to find out that Killian might have been the one who killed my father. Now though, it barely stings since I know my father got what he deserved based on how he’d lived his life. He probably deserved even worse.
 

I turn back to Killian. He lied though. Again, he lied. And I have to make it known that I’m not happy about it.

I walk toward him, my eyes focused on his. I can’t show him anything but the anger that I let surface there from another lie he told me. Another lie that hurts me. That’s all I get—lie after lie after lie from him. Never just the truth. With him, there is always something more hidden.
 

I walk until I’m standing right in front of him. I’m fuming. I feel everyone’s eyes on me, all unsure of what I’m going to do. Kill him? Question him? Forgive him?
 

I try to feel the anger as best as I can as I look Killian in the eyes. All I see is love and truth. Truth that I never expected to see. He thinks I’ve moved forward to kill him. He thinks that these are his final seconds alive, and with those seconds, he is going to love me.
 

I hate that he thinks that. I hate that I could kill him, and he would still love me with his last breath.
 

I bend down, so I can look eye-to-eye with Killian for what he thinks is going to be the last time. I glare at him with my blue eyes while his soften with more love. He’s trying his best to tell me it’s okay, that he understands why I’m doing this.
 

I stand back up. “This is for killing my father,” I say. I raise the gun and hit it against Killian’s head as hard as I can.
 

I hear a gasp from someone behind me. I watch as Killian’s head whips to the side, and I am surprised to see a gush of blood spill from his lips where I hit him instead of the side of his head where I aimed.
 

I glance up and see Santino smiling smugly behind Killian, happy that I’m on their side instead of Killian’s.
 

I watch Killian put his head back upright, and I’m scared at how much blood covers his face. I can’t hit him in the head again, like I was planning. It would cause too much damage. Too much pain.

He opens his eyes, even though one is bloody, despite the pain that I know he must be feeling.
 

Before I can really register the pain that I know he is feeling, I kick him hard in the stomach with the heel of my shoe. I watch as he falls backward. He hits his head again on the hard concrete floor.
 

I take a step forward so that I’m standing over him. “That was for me. For lying to me about who you were and pretending to love me when all you were really doing was framing my family to meet your own needs.”
 

I spit on him in disgust and then turn away, hoping I didn’t give him a concussion or cause any other permanent damage.
 

“Kneel, you motherfucker,” Santino says.
 

Killian moans as he is, I’m sure, forced back into a kneeling position.
 

I try to ignore the pain that I hear coming from him. Instead, I focus on the wicked gleam in Nacio’s eyes. He’s impressed by what I’ve done. If I shot Killian now, he would believe I was on his side. Even if I didn’t kill Killian, one shot would be enough.
 

I can’t though. I can’t shoot him, and I can’t let anyone else either. So, I think of the one thing that might give Killian one more day to live even if it means I’m risking my own life to do it.
 

I lift the gun and place it in Nacio’s hands. “We can’t kill him,” I say.
 

Nacio frowns at me in disappointment. “Don’t you mean,
you
can’t kill him? I’m disappointed in you, sweetheart. After the performance you just gave, I thought putting a bullet between his eyes would be the easy part.”
 

Nacio takes the gun and begins walking toward Killian with the same intensity he had when he walked me to the room with the blonde girl he killed. I grab his arm and turn him back to me.
 

“You can’t kill him either. We still need him, baby,” I say, adding the term of endearment to the end, despite how much it kills me to.
 

“And why not?”
 

I stroke his cheek, buying myself more time to figure out a reason.
 

I smile when I finally have an answer. “Because the FBI might already know where our next base of operation is. They could follow us or get here before we leave. He’s our only insurance. We need to figure out what he knows and then keep him alive until we are sure the FBI is no longer invested in going after us. Then, we will get rid of him. The FBI will simply think that we turned him. They saw him leaving the jail of his own accord with Santino, after all.”

Nacio smiles and then tangles his hand in my hair before pulling me into a wet, hungry kiss. He releases me a few seconds later. “Beauty and brains. Who knew?” Then, he says, “Seth.”