Maybe Always (Maybe Series Book 3) (20 page)

“Me.”
 

Now, it’s my turn to raise my eyebrows. “Really?”
 

“Yes. I don’t like having other people cook or clean. I have two security guards, but that’s it. I like my privacy.”
 

I nod. I glance up, looking at the beautiful chandelier hanging overhead. I could stay here forever, just looking at it, but Nacio grabs my hand and pulls me through the foyer to a large room at the back. This room is a large dining hall with a ceiling that is at least two stories tall.
 

“Sit,” he says, pointing to a chair at a long dark table that could easily seat twenty.
 

“You don’t want to show me around the rest of the place?”
 

“No. You need to eat first.”
 

On cue, my stomach growls, giving me away.
 

“Fair enough, but don’t you need time to cook?” I grab my stomach that still feels a little queasy after being sick earlier.

“No. I’ll have to cook for you another time.”

Nacio walks through the door of the dining hall to what I assume is the kitchen. He returns a second later with glasses, a wine bottle, and a plate of cheese.
 

He places each on the table and then begins pouring us each a glass of wine. He then pulls matches out of his pocket and lights the candles nearest to us even though it’s not dark out yet. I watch as he takes a seat on the end, kitty-corner to me.
 

He lifts his glass of red wine, and I do the same.
 

“To us,” he says, clinking his glass against mine.
 

I take a sip but then immediately regret it. This wine isn’t sweet. It’s harsh and bitter. I won’t be able to do more than sip it. It’s nothing like the wine Killian has gotten for me.
 

I grab one of the squares of cheese on the tray in the center of the table and pop it into my mouth. This, on the other hand, tastes like heaven. I grab a handful of the cheese and continue popping several into my mouth until my stomach begins to settle a little.
 

“How did your father die?”
 

“He didn’t die,” Nacio says, frowning at me.
 

“Oh…” I pause between bites of cheese. “I thought you said you inherited this place from your father.”
 

“I did, but he didn’t die. He is running our location in Asia.”
 

Fuck. There is another location. Another place for pain and suffering.
 

“Oh, where in Asia?” I ask casually before popping another piece of cheese into my mouth.
 

Nacio takes a bite of cheese himself. “I inherited this house and this location when my father chose to move to Asia. We will have to travel there at some point. I haven’t visited that location yet. We have spent most of our time traveling between Mexico and Paris. But this location is my favorite. Santino prefers the darkness of Mexico. I prefer the light of Paris. My father prefers the excitement of Asia.”
 

“What about my family? What did my father prefer? My grandfather?”
 

He thinks for a second. “Your grandfather prefers Mexico. It was hard for him to give up that location. Although we will start up a new location in South America soon. And your father, Paris. I think that’s why he and I got along so well. It killed me to see him die.”
 

“You were there when he died?”
 

Nacio nods.

“You were in Las Vegas?” I sit up straighter in my seat.
 

He nods again. “I was there when your father died.”
 

“So, it really wasn’t a heart attack?”
 

“It wasn’t a heart attack. Killian killed him. He poisoned your father and made it look like a heart attack.”

I feel a tear fall down my face. I know that Nacio isn’t speaking the truth. I know that Killian didn’t kill my father. But I still don’t understand who did, and I might never know. Even though I hate him, I still care for him deep down, which kills me. It kills me that I’m crying for my father when he was a monster. Maybe, now that I am one, too, I feel more for him than I should. I feel connected to him.
 

I glance to Nacio, who wipes the tear from my cheek. There’s a softness, a kindness, in Nacio, just like my father. I didn’t have the opportunity to turn my father, but I can bring Nacio to my side. I just don’t have any idea how to do that, other than to flirt and let him flirt back.
 

“I miss him,” I say.
 

“Me, too.”
 

Nacio tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I grab his hand, keeping it pressed against my cheek. I close my eyes, trying to imagine his hand is Killian’s, but that won’t work. Nacio is nothing like Killian. Nacio is selfish, ruthless, and intimidating. Killian is loving, selfless, and intense. Their strength and ability to lie to me might be the only similarities between the two men.
 

I open my eyes, no longer able to fantasize that Nacio is Killian. I place my hand on the nape of Nacio’s neck and pull him to me until his lips are pressed against mine. He aggressively kisses me. His tongue thrusts in and out of my mouth, making it hard for me to breathe. I continue to hold on to his neck, trying to hold on to dear life, as he grabs my other hand and pulls it hard to his chest. Harder than what I’m comfortable with. A painful moan escapes my lips when he pulls my hair with his other hand. I try to make it sound sexy, but there is no mistaking my moan for anything other than pain.
 

I pull at his hair and hear his painful growl in return. Fuck, I don’t know how to stop this. He must hear my thoughts though because he aggressively releases me. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. We both breathe hard and fast, trying to catch our breaths after a kiss like that.
 

He has a wicked, dirty grin plastered on his face as he looks at me, and I’m afraid I’ve ignited his lust for me. I’m afraid he is going to want to fuck me right this second, but I can’t let him.
 

“You and I would make quite a pair. I don’t trust you yet, not fully. But I will soon, and then we can take over everything together.”
 

“How?” I ask when my breathing has returned.
 

“We will kill them. All of them.”
 

My mouth drops a little at his suggestion, but maybe I misunderstood him.
 

“What do you mean, kill all of them? Who exactly?”
 

“Your grandfather, your mother, my brother, and my father. We kill them all, and then we will be free. We kill all of them, and then we can do what we want with the organization.”
 

His face brightens. This isn’t the first time he has thought about this. I can tell from his excitement. This is what he really wants. I just don’t understand why.
 

I sip on the bitter wine, trying to mask my disgust at what he is suggesting. I set the glass back down. “You could really do that? You could kill your father? Your brother?”
 

“Yes,” he answers automatically.
 

I know he is telling me the truth. He’s not lying.
 

“Could you? Could you kill your grandfather and mother?”
 

I don’t have to think about it. I already know my answer. “Yes.”
 

I’ve been in this dark room for hours. My stomach growls, letting me know how hungry I am, as if the ache isn’t enough to let me know. My body is sore from being tied up, from lack of sleep, and from not eating in days. If they don’t plan on putting a bullet in my head soon, I will easily die from lack of food and water.
 

At least, this time, I can move around. My arms are still tied behind my back, but they didn’t tie me to anything. So, I could move around if only I found the strength to move from my position on the floor.
 

I glance around the small room that I’m sure used to be a closet. The door looks weak, compared to the door that was keeping me in when we were in Mexico. I could try to kick it in. But then what? I would have to run, but I’m not sure I have the strength to do that, not without getting caught. If they caught me, there would be a good chance they would shoot me on the spot.
 

I try to sit up, but just lifting my head is painful and exhausting. So, I don’t bother again. I just need to rest. Once I rest, I will have enough strength to form a good plan.
 

I close my eyes and think of Kinsley. I try to let her stay in my thoughts. But the darkness soon overtakes me.

“We can kill him soon,” Seth says.
 

I open my eyes, expecting to see Seth standing in front of me, but he’s not. The darkness is still covering me. He must be just outside my door though. That confirms that, even if I kicked the door down, I wouldn’t be able to escape with Seth just outside the door.
 

“Good. I don’t like keeping him alive,” Lee says.
 

“The FBI has found our location in Mexico. It’s all over the news. They seem to think they have found everyone who was behind your deaths,” Seth says.
 

“Good. We just need to verify that before we kill him. I expect he will be dead by tomorrow,” Lee says.
 

“What about Kinsley, Nacio, and Santino? They could ruin everything. What are we going to do about them?” Seth says.
 

“Santino isn’t a threat. He will do whatever we say. And, as for Kinsley and Nacio…” Lee says.
 

My eyes grow heavier as they speak until I’m barely able to keep my eyes open. Until I can barely hear the words they are saying.
 

“We can handle them, just like…”
 

I’m sitting in Granddad’s office with Mother, Nacio, and Santino. They are discussing what prices they are getting for the five children we just got in and where they will be going. The prices are insane, all in the millions, and they are throwing the numbers around like it is nothing.
 

What’s worse is the way they talk about the children. As if they aren’t children. Just objects to be bought, sold, and rented.
 

“So, it’s agreed. Nacio and Santino will take the shipment to London,” Granddad says.
 

“What about Killian?” Santino asks.
 

“We will take him with us. We can kill him and throw him over the yacht. He won’t ever be found,” Nacio says.
 

Everyone nods in agreement.
 

“Kinsley can come with us and do the honors,” Nacio says.

“I’d love to,” I say.
 

Nacio winks at me. After our last conversation, he thinks I’m on his side. He thinks I will do whatever he says, and I will. I will because getting close to Nacio might be my only chance at keeping Killian alive.
 

***

I watch as the five kids—two boys and three girls—are escorted from the bus to the private yacht. I watch them walk what could be their last walk where they are completely unharmed. They haven’t been raped or tortured or murdered. This could be the last time they experience even a shred of happiness even if it is only from the warm sun beating down on us.

I watch the three men escorting them. They are so unfazed by what they are doing. Santino is escorting the first two, followed by two men I don’t recognize. All of them seem calm and relaxed, like they are just going for an afternoon walk, not walking children to their deaths. I don’t know what to do, but I know I can’t let it happen. I can’t.
 

Next off the bus are Killian and Nacio. Killian doesn’t try to hide his stares this time. This time, he locks his gaze on me as he walks past where I’m standing on the base of the ramp of the yacht. I glance to Nacio, who is also staring at me. Both men are showing me how much they want me. Both men are devouring me with their eyes, and I can’t give either of them the reaction they want.
 

I wait for them to walk past me, and then I follow them onto the large yacht that could easily fit twenty-plus people. I watch as the men take the children down the stairs inside the yacht. Nacio follows with Killian while I stay on the deck of the yacht. I can’t stand to go downstairs with them. I wouldn’t be able to keep my composure. I couldn’t keep from trying to kill all of the men who are walking so calmly down the stairs.
 

I walk over to the edge and look out at the water that is so calm and beautiful. The sun is setting over the water. It’s beautiful here. Riding on a yacht like this in such a luxurious setting should be beautiful, but all I can think about is that this might be the last beautiful thing I see as well because we might all be dead as well by morning.

“It’s beautiful, just like you,” Nacio says from behind me.
 

He wraps his arms around me, like a lover would do, except he is a monster and I’m far from a lover. Still, we stay like this for a while as the yacht begins moving away from the dock. I feel weirdly calm with his arms wrapped around me. Nacio has a weird way of making me feel like he’s a good person who cares about me one second, and then the next second, he’s the devil who wants to destroy people’s lives. I can’t understand him.
 

“We are going to play cards. You want to play?” one of the men asks from behind us.
 

Nacio looks to me.
 

“Sure,” I say.
 

I follow the man down the stairs. A large kitchen, complete with marble countertops, sits at the bottom of the stairs with three tables. Past that seems to be a lounge area. A man is sitting at the first table with a deck of cards, tequila, and chips and salsa spread out on the table. I smile at the man, but he doesn’t smile back at me as I sit down next to him at the table.