The Maybe Series

by Ella Miles

  I fold the letter back up and put it in my pocket. I put the tray table up and sit in silence as the plane lands before I go through the long process of exiting the plane and going through customs. Then, I’ll be off to form a plan in a nice hotel; the last nice hotel I might ever stay in.

  If only I could find a way to contact my grandfather, then I could easily put an end to this, but I don’t even know if he will be in Cancún when I land.

  I don’t have a choice though. Even if he isn’t there, I have to go to the address my father provided. And, when I do, I will be the criminal. Despite my good intentions, there will be no distinction with the law. The FBI will arrest me if I make it out of there alive. And being with Killian will no longer be a possibility. But at least he will be safe and be free to continue working as an FBI agent while I pay for my family’s sins.

  I feel the cold metal handcuffs go onto my wrists, and then it becomes real. I’m being arrested. My career is over, my life is over, and all because I fell in love with a girl I was never supposed to love.

  Agent Hayes grabs my arm and begins leading me through the airport.

  He’s talking to me, but I’m not listening to him. I’m too worried about Kinsley to listen to the meaningless words coming out of his mouth. I already know why I’m being arrested. I’m being arrested for helping her when I shouldn’t have.

  I made a promise to Kinsley’s father that I would protect her above everything else. I would have protected her anyway. And, now, I’ve failed. I failed the second I let her out of my sight.

  Hayes leads me outside to an unmarked black SUV, the same type of SUV I’ve driven criminals in before. I climb in and realize how uncomfortable it is to sit in a car with my arms stuck behind my back. Hayes buckles me in before climbing into the front seat. I’m surprised when he begins driving without a partner in the seat next to him. He’s not following protocol.

  I sit up straighter. “Where are we going?”

  Hayes glances up to the rearview mirror to look at me. His eyes look sad. “FBI office.”

  My shoulders slump. “Hayes, you have to listen to me. Kinsley is in trouble. We have to—”

  “I know she’s in trouble. She said she was going to turn herself in, and then she didn’t. Now, she is officially a fugitive. She’s facing a lot of jail time.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. She isn’t safe. You have to let me go. She could die.”

  Hayes shakes his head. “You don’t understand, Byrne. You are in a lot of trouble, too. The office thinks you were harboring a criminal. A criminal you were supposed to be prosecuting. Under the Patriot Act, you could go to jail for life without a trial.”

  I glare at Hayes. “I thought you were my friend. I thought you were going to help me and keep silent about what you knew.”

  “I tried. Kinsley called me when I was in Bisson’s office. With our boss over my shoulder, I didn’t have a choice. He heard everything. And then you called. I had no choice. If I didn’t arrest you, they would have arrested me.”

  “Why aren’t you following protocol then? You know you will be reprimanded for not having a partner when arresting a fellow FBI agent. What is the point?”

  Hayes’s eyes drift downward to the steering wheel. “I wanted to talk to you alone. I know I’m the only person who might be able to talk some sense into you. This girl isn’t worth losing your career over. You barely know her.”

  “She’s worth protecting though.”

  “Only because you love her.”

  “No…”

  “No, you don’t love her?”

  “No, that’s not the reason she’s worth protecting. She’s naive yet strong. Loving yet ruthless. A princess and a warrior. She is a perfect contradiction. But, most importantly, she is innocent and in danger. I don’t know about you, but I took an oath when I took this job. I promised to protect the innocent and those in danger.”

  Hayes sharply turns the wheel. We turn the corner before pulling to a stop in an alleyway. For a second, I think that maybe he is letting me go, that I’ve convinced him, but when he turns to face me with anger on his face, I know he’s not going to let me go.

  “She’s not innocent, Byrne. She’s a criminal, just like her family. If she were innocent, she would have been on the flight back home. If she were innocent, she wouldn’t have lied to me about where she is going.”

  “She was lying to protect me!”

  “Why would she protect you? She’s the one who supposedly needs protection, not you.”

  “Because that’s what she does. She protects the people she loves, no matter the cost.”

  Hayes sighs.

  “You have to let me go, so I can go after her. She could die if I don’t.”

  Hayes narrows his eyes at me. “I can’t.”

  I drop my head, knowing that he is my last chance to get free. My last chance to save her.

  “Why does she need protection?”

  I raise my head again. “Because her family is involved with dangerous people, and she is going to try to stop them. She feels responsible for her family’s actions and feels she has to be the one to resolve them even though she carries none of the guilt herself.”

  “What are you talking about? You went undercover with this family for five years. You never found out anything other than the money laundering, did you?”

  “No,” I lie. “I never found anything else out.”

  “Then, what makes you so sure now? She could be lying to you. She could just be setting you up so that she and her grandfather have time to hide where we will never be able to find them.”

  I shake my head. He doesn’t get it. He will never get it. I have to find another way to save her.

  Hayes’s eyes study mine for a long time. The longer we sit here, the angrier our boss, Bisson, is going to be when we finally get to the office. He will think Hayes did something. He will think Hayes is helping me. I can’t let that happen. Hayes doesn’t deserve to be punished because of me.

  “Just take me to the FBI office.”

  Hayes runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I’m going to say this, but I believe you. You obviously believe the girl is in trouble, and I believe you. I can’t let you go though, but I can go after her myself. Where is she?”

  I stare back into the eyes of the only friend I have at the Bureau. My only friend. But I don’t trust him. I can’t tell if he is using a technique just to get me to confess where she is or if he is genuinely concerned and will go after her without telling the FBI. So, I keep my mouth closed. I can’t trust him. I can’t trust anyone but myself when it comes to Kinsley’s safety.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Byrne,” Hayes says. Turning back to the wheel, he begins driving again.

  We drive the rest of the way to the FBI office in silence. Hayes parks the car in front of the large building and then walks over to my door. He unbuckles my seat belt and then helps me out. He holds on to my arms as he pushes me inside the office building I have walked into countless times of my own volition, but now, I am walking in while under arrest.

  I watch the stares as we walk to the elevator. Each person who sees me is one more person I never want to see again. Each person’s face wears the same expression—disappointment. Everyone is disappointed in what I did. In their eyes, I let the Bureau down, and I’m a criminal.

  Everyone has always thought I am a mess-up. Since the day my brother died, I have been trying to fight the stereotype, but today, I’ve proven them right.

  God, I can’t think about what my father is going to say when he finds out I’ve been arrested. He will really think he has no sons left. It’s preferable to thinking that your only child left is sitting in jail, possibly for the rest of his life.

  The elevator doors close, and then it’s just me and Hayes in the elevator. Hayes presses the button for the third floor. He doesn’t look at me, and I don’t look at him. When the doors open, Hayes pushes me out in a stern and forceful way that is
all business. I’m nothing to him, just like every other criminal he has arrested.

  He leads me into the interrogation room where I know I will sit for the rest of the day. The FBI will then put me in the holding cell overnight and then bring me back to the interrogation room in the morning. I’ll go back and forth until they think they have gotten all that they can get from me. Then, I’ll be sent to prison where I’ll have no chance at escape, no chance at saving Kinsley.

  Hayes removes the cuffs before leaving me alone in the room. I rub my sore wrists, just like I’ve seen the criminals who have been brought into this room before do.

  I can’t think about me though. All I can think about is where Kinsley is and what she is doing. She must have found the letter. I searched everywhere in our room in the bed and breakfast and couldn’t find it. I was stupid enough not to read it earlier, so I have no idea what it says, but it must have said enough of the truth to make Kinsley feel like she has to go set everything right.

  I just don’t know if it gave her a clue as to where she should go. If it did, I’m afraid it’s going to send her to Mexico, to the one place in the world she shouldn’t go. It isn’t safe. And I can’t do a damn thing about it.

  The door opens, and my boss is standing there—well, my former boss. I’m sure, at the very least, I’ve been fired for my actions. He walks slowly over to the table where I’m sitting. He sits down across from me, and I see a cup of water in his hand.

  I smirk. I wasn’t sure if he was going to be the good cop or the bad cop. I guess he is going with the good cop routine, which will make Hayes the bad cop. The idea of that makes me laugh.

  Bisson pushes the water across the table to me. “It seems you have gotten yourself into quite a predicament, Byrne.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say automatically before I realize that all the niceties in the world won’t help me now.

  “I want to help you, Byrne. You are going to let me help you, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t think you can help me.”

  He smiles. “I can. See, this whole thing boils down to one simple question and one simple answer. Do you want to be an FBI agent, or do you want to help a silly girl? If you want to be an FBI agent, you will answer anything I ask you, which is simple really. Where is the girl?”

  “I don’t know where she is. She lied to me, the same as she did to you.”

  Bisson narrows his eyes at me, trying to determine if I am lying or not.

  I don’t want to do it, but it might be my only chance at gaining his trust. So, I reach into the back pocket of my jeans and pull out the note Kinsley wrote. I hand it to him and then stare down at my hands while he reads the short letter.

  On the surface, the letter makes it seem like I am nothing to her. At the heart of it though, it says how much she really loves me because she wouldn’t have lied to me if she hadn’t loved me. She thought she was giving me my life back and keeping me safe.

  She’s wrong though. I don’t have a life without her. I don’t care about being an FBI agent anymore, no matter how much it hurts to think that. I feel like I no longer care about my brother every time I think that, but it’s the truth. I’m not meant to be an FBI agent. I suck at this job. All I care about now is keeping Kinsley safe.

  “You don’t know where she is?”

  I shake my head. “No. I thought she was coming back here. I thought the same as you—that she was turning herself in.”

  In the back of my mind, I know where she is. I know what her father’s note said without reading it—the truth.

  Robert Felton loved his daughter above everything. That is the one thing I know to be true about that man. So, that note told her the truth.

  I know exactly where she is—Cancún, Mexico, the last place I ever wanted her to go—and there is nothing I can do about it.

  I look up at Bisson, who is intently staring at me. He’s trying to determine if I am lying or not, but I know he can’t read anything but my desperation for a girl I love but can’t save.

  He gets up from the table. “Think about it some more. Think long and hard about where she could be. Then, I’ll be back.”

  I watch as he walks out the door, leaving me alone in the gloomy room. Its only goal is to make me feel so depressed that I tell them everything I know. I can’t though.

  Instead, I think about her. I think about her red lips and short locks that somehow embody the strength that now encompasses her. I miss the naive girl who was so innocent and sweet that she would do anything for her family. After she faces what I know is coming, there won’t be a drop of that girl left. She won’t survive if I can’t find a way out of here.

  I feel the warm light shining into the room despite the dark shades. I open one eye and realize that the shades don’t close fully, allowing the sun to peek through the cracks. I sigh. So much for sleeping the day away.

  I pull the white linen sheets over my head and roll over, but that lasts all of five minutes. When I can’t fall back asleep, I get up. I grab a robe hanging in the closet and put it on over my tank top and underwear that I slept in. I haven’t bothered to buy any additional clothing, so I’m stuck with just two outfits and two pairs of underwear.

  I walk over to the shades and pull them open before walking out onto my balcony. I take a deep breath, smelling the salty air that comes from being so close to the ocean. The waves are calm this morning, as calm as I feel even though I should be a wreck.

  I don’t know what time it is. I could walk back inside and see, but the time doesn’t really matter. I know that I can’t go to the address in the middle of the day. I have to wait until darkness settles in. That means I have all day to enjoy the beach, the drinks, and the food. I have one last day to enjoy the beauty of the world before I experience how dark it truly can be.

  I walk back inside and find the room service menu. My eyes immediately go to the pancakes, doughnuts, and muffins, but then I think of Killian. He wouldn’t order any of that crap, especially not if he needed to feel strong and fearless later. I need my strength. I skim the menu, looking for something Killian has fed me, but I don’t find anything. The healthiest item on the menu is an egg-white omelet with spinach and goat cheese. I order it and a coffee.

  I walk into the bathroom and decide to take a quick shower to wash away all of my travels while I wait for my breakfast. I turn the hot water on and then take off my robe and underwear. By the time I’m done undressing, I can tell the water is warm from the amount of steam filling the large bathroom.

  I step inside and am immediately filled with memories of the last shower I had with Killian. I suck in a breath as I remember his hands traveling across my smooth stomach before grabbing my breasts. As the water streams down my chest, I can practically feel his hands there, torturing me and turning me on with his touch until I’m panting hard with needing more.

  I close my eyes and let my hands travel over my body. I massage my breast, doing my best to imitate Killian’s strong touch that drives me wild with need. I let my hands travel down my stomach to my pussy.

  I find my clit, just like he would, and I massage myself in torturous circles, slowly letting my body grow with need, before I move my hand faster in tighter circles.

  I picture his strong smirk, his lips on my neck, his thick erection pressing up against me, begging for attention but not giving into his own needs until I’m satisfied first.

  And then he whispers something dirty in my ear just as I come all over his hand. I come as I picture it.

  I keep my eyes closed after I come, trying to keep Killian with me for as long as I can. But I know I have to open my eyes and let him go soon. I have to focus on what I need to do. I set him free. I can’t bring him back into my mess of a life.

  A knock on the door forces my eyes open and forces me to say good-bye to the Killian I brought back into my life through my dreams.

  I turn the water off, despite the fact that I didn’t shampoo my hair or wash my body like I’d planned. I grab the towel an
d quickly dry off before putting the robe back on.

  “Coming!” I yell toward the door as I exit the bathroom. I run my hand through my short locks that I have just now gotten used to before I open the door.

  One of the hotel employees is standing with a cart of food. “Where would you like it?”

  “On the balcony,” I say.

  I hold the door to my suite open while he carries a tray of food in. I then find my purse to pull out a couple of dollars.

  “Gracias,” I say, handing the tip to the man before he exits my room.

  I walk out to the balcony and take a seat in one of the two chairs. It’s hard, seeing an empty chair sitting right next to me. Killian should be here. No one comes alone to resorts like this. People only come here with their significant others or families.

  I sigh and pull the lids off the two plates of food. A single tear falls down my cheek at the sight in front of me. One of the plates is the omelet with fruit on the side, like I ordered. And the other plate has an assortment of pastries that I didn’t order.

  It’s like Killian is saying that it’s okay to have a little sweetness with my healthy breakfast. It just makes it all the harder to do this without him. I have to though. I want him to be happy, and he would never be happy with me if it meant giving up his job with the FBI.

  I pick up the plate with my omelet and then add a doughnut to it. I smile at the plate of food that is a little bit of me and a little bit of Killian. It’s perfect.

  I spend most of the rest of the day eating on the balcony, napping, and looking at the calm ocean that brings me even more calmness the longer I stare at it. I wish this were my life—just sitting on the beach, enjoying the warm weather, without a care in the world. If I survive this, I’m going to spend at least a month on the beach. Even if I have no money after all this is over, I don’t care. I’ll find a way to just sit here until I forget every horrible thing my family did.

  When the sun slowly begins moving closer to the horizon, I get up from my chair and head back inside. I find my new cell phone that I bought when I first got here. It’s a pay-as-you-go phone that no one should be able to track. At least, I don’t think anyone can track this number to me. I dial my grandfather’s cell number and wait, but no one answers.