Maybe Never (Maybe #2) (4 page)

Kinsley’s face when Agent Phillips called me Agent Byrne will forever be ingrained in my memory. It was a look of shock, followed quickly by hate. It was a look I never wanted to see on her face.
 

I watched as she was placed in the back of one of our SUVs and driven away. The pain I felt at seeing her headed toward a jail cell hurt worse than I could even imagine. I never wanted this.
 

I turn to Agent Hayes, who is walking toward the second SUV. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Kinsley wasn’t supposed to be arrested.”
 

Agent Hayes stops and looks at me. “We have evidence that she was colluding with her father and grandfather.”
 

“What? You know that’s not true. You know there is no way in hell, that woman had anything to do with her family’s criminal behaviors. They won’t even let her run any part of the company. They won’t let her decide what food to put into her mouth without questioning her first. She isn’t involved in this.”
 

Agent Hayes shakes his head. “You’ve gotten too close to the girl. Too close to make a reasonable judgment about her.”
 

I run my hand through my hair in frustration. “My feelings for her have nothing to do with this. She’s innocent.”
 

He frowns at me and climbs into the driver’s seat. I climb into the passenger seat next to him and he quickly begins driving.
 

“She might be naive, but that doesn’t make her innocent,” he says.
 

“Why did you guys move in tonight? You were supposed to give me more time to gain his trust, so I could find out if they were hiding anything more.”
 

“You’re delusional. You’ve been undercover for too long. There was nothing left to find. The decision was made to move in before Lee Felton died, just like his son. Otherwise, we would have had no one left to prosecute, other than the granddaughter.”
 

“You shouldn’t be prosecuting her.”
 

“That’s not for you to decide.”
 

I take a deep breath, trying to remain calm. No one will listen to me if I flip out even though I’m the one who’s been undercover for five years. I’m the one who should be making the decisions, not them, but I’ve made one too many mistakes in my past to be trusted.
 

“Offer her a plea deal then,” I say.
 

“What?” He glances from the road to me as we stop at a red light.
 

“Offer her a deal. She walks if she testifies against her grandfather.”
 

He scrunches his nose. “But we don’t need her to testify against her grandfather. We have enough evidence to convict him.”
 

“Maybe, but he will have the best legal team money can buy. We need to be sure.”
 

He looks back to the road and drives again as the light turns green. “I will see what I can do.”
 

I take another deep breath, trying to relax, but it’s impossible when I know Kinsley is on her way to a jail cell. A cell that she will be stuck in for at least tonight, possibly much longer. A deal would at least give her a chance at freedom.
 

“You must be excited about getting a break now that your undercover stint is over. As soon as the trials are over, you will be able to go home for a while or go on a vacation.”
 

I nod, but I’m not excited. I don’t know where my home is anymore. I don’t want to leave Las Vegas, not now that I’ve met the girl who has haunted my dreams for five years. I thought she was a naive, scared little girl. I thought she was weak and not able to make a decision for herself. I was wrong.
 

I’ve been a part of countless arrests. Every single person I’ve arrested or seen arrested had fear in their eyes when it happened. Every. Single. One.
 

Not Kinsley though. She faced being arrested head-on without a drop of fear on her face.
 

She stood up to her grandfather, a man I know to be a criminal.
 

She survived her father’s death without losing any more of herself.
 

I was wrong about Kinsley. She’s not just a princess. She’s also a survivor. And possibly even a warrior.
 

But as much as I’m afraid I’ve fallen for her, I can’t be her future. I can’t be with her and still be with the FBI. As soon as she finds out the truth, she will hate me anyway. My future is with the FBI while her future…well, her future is with anything but me.

The door to the holding cell opens, jarring me awake. I look around and find that a third woman is now sitting in the holding cell with us. I rub my neck that is sore from sleeping against the hard, cold wall all night.
 

“Kinsley Felton,” the officer says.
 

I stand and feel my knees crack from sitting all night.
 

“Come with me, please,” he says.
 

The man leads me out of the room and into another room just down the hall. A room for questioning. The same room I was in last time.
 

He indicates for me to take a seat in the metal chair at the table. I take a seat and wait for the door to open again. I pick at the rust on the metal table, just like I did last time, while I wait in the dark gray-colored room. I don’t have to wait long.
 

My lawyer walks through the door, followed by FBI agents.
 

Our family lawyer, Mr. Greene, takes a seat next to me. “Don’t worry, Ms. Felton. They have nothing to hold you on. I’ll be able to get you out of here today.”
 

I nod, and then my eyes widen at the men sitting across from me. Both men are from the poker game—Grant and Stephen. Grant still looks as cocky as ever, sitting across from me. The only difference is, his blond hair has recently been buzzed short. Stephen looks exactly the same—tall with buzzed short black hair.
 

“We meet again, Ms. Felton,” Grant says.
 

I frown at him. “Except we weren’t properly introduced last time we met.” I turn to Stephen. “I’m guessing you aren’t Killian’s brother-in-law.” I turn to Grant. “And I’m guessing you aren’t a world champ at poker.”
 

He smiles at me. “I guess not. I’m Agent Hayes, and this is Agent Liddell.”
 

I don’t smile at them. I glance at the door behind them, waiting to see if Killian will be walking through the door.
 

“He won’t be coming,” Agent Hayes says, reading my thoughts.

I frown at him but don’t say anything further.
 

“So, here is the deal, Kinsley. We have physical evidence that could put you in jail for ten to fifteen years on fraud and money laundering charges. Your signature is all over all sorts of documents, proving that you were involved in your grandfather’s and father’s legal troubles,” Agent Hayes says.
 

I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean? My father and grandfather weren’t doing anything illegal.”
 

My lawyer places his hand on my arm, reminding me to let him do the talking. But I can’t, not when my family is at stake.
 

“We’ve arrested your grandfather. He would be sitting in a jail cell right now if it wasn’t for his need for medical attention. And your father would have been in a cell as well,” Agent Hayes says.
 

I gasp at his words.
 

He continues speaking, “We have been investigating your whole family for the past five years. Your family has come in to lots of money, more money than possible based on the income of your company.
 

“We’ve had undercover agents planted in the company. Agent Byrne was able to infiltrate your family to the highest extent. We have evidence to convict your grandfather on many high-felony charges, including money laundering and fraud. He’s looking at twenty-five-plus years,” Agent Hayes says.
 

That can’t be true. My family would never do anything illegal. We have always earned our money fairly. Granddad is a stern man, and he would never do something like this. And I know my father wouldn’t have.
 

The FBI have it wrong, all wrong.
 

“But I wouldn’t worry about your grandfather right now. I would worry about your own future. Ten-plus years. Based on your past transgressions, we might even get you on more,” Agent Hayes says.
 

I glare at the man sitting across from me.
 

“You can’t bring that up. It was buried five years ago.”
 

Agent Hayes smiles. “Everything can be brought back up. Now, we can make this all go away for you. We can make it so that you walk free today and never have to come back here.”
 

“How?”
 

“All you have to do is agree to testify against your grandfather,” Agent Hayes says.
 

“No,” I say automatically. “I won’t hurt my family.”

He turns to my attorney.
 

“No. You don’t have anything to charge Ms. Felton with, except some forged signatures that can be easily proven not to be hers. She is not taking a plea deal,” Mr. Greene says.
 

“Then, we will bring the charges against her and go to trial,” Agent Hayes says.
 

Mr. Greene leans over and whispers in my ear, “Do you know of anything that could incriminate your grandfather?”
 

“No,” I whisper back.
 

He nods and turns back to the men. “What would you want my client to testify about?”

“We have reason to believe that she knew of the actions of her father and grandfather, and while she didn’t necessarily partake in the criminal activity, she knew exactly what was happening. We need her to testify to meetings she attended that occurred between her father and grandfather,” Agent Liddell says.
 

“No,” I say again.
 

“Think about it,” Agent Liddell says, looking at my lawyer instead of me.
 

My lawyer whispers in my ear again, “Right now, I know I can get you out on bail. I wouldn’t take the plea. But it is something to consider if the evidence is really as strongly against you as they claim.”

I nod but don’t accept that. I don’t accept that I might need to take a plea when, this time, I did nothing wrong. And I’d rather go to jail and think of it as penance for my past transgressions than say anything against my family.

“Is that all?” I ask.
 

“In a hurry to get back to your cell?” Agent Hayes asks.
 

“It’s better than being in here.”
 

“Your arraignment is scheduled to start in an hour. In the meantime, think about taking the plea. I’d hate to see a pretty woman like you end up spending the best years of your life in prison,” Agent Hayes says.
 

Everyone stands, and an officer leads me back to the holding cell but not before I get one last glare in at the agents.
 

I walk down the hallway leading back to the holding cell, the entire time scanning the area for Killian. He’s the reason I’m here. Whatever he found, that’s why I’m here, and it’s why my grandfather is handcuffed to his bed.
 

And, as soon as I get out of here, I plan on finding Killian. I plan on finding out the truth.

“Here are the conditions of your bond. Read it carefully, and then sign here,” the officer says, pointing to the bottom of the paper.
 

I take the pen and sign my signature without reading it. The same signature is supposedly all over several criminal papers. It’s the reason I was locked up for almost twenty-four hours in the first place. It’s the reason I could go to jail for ten years.
 

I slide the paper back to the officer, trying not to think about it when there are so many things I don’t know or understand. Things that I don’t believe to be true. I don’t believe my grandfather or my father would have done anything illegal, especially when it came to the well-being of their company.
 

“Here are your belongings.” The officer slides over my phone, ID, and lip gloss—the only things I had on me when I was arrested.
 

I take them and put them in the pocket of my sweatpants. I tuck my long blonde hair behind my ear. It feels tangled and greasy from not showering.
 

“You’re free to leave then.”
 

I turn from the officer and walk out the door of the jail. I take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay as I walk out into the warm Las Vegas air.
 

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” Scarlett says, running toward me.
 

She immediately wraps her arms around me, like I’ve been off at war for a few years instead of just sitting in a holding cell for one night.
 

“I’m fine, Scar.”
 

She releases me and begins looking me up and down. She inspects every inch of me, but I don’t know what she expects to find. I’m not bleeding or permanently scarred. I didn’t get any tattoos or join a gang.
 

“I’m fine,” I repeat.
 

She suspiciously eyes me, like she doesn’t believe me. “You should get a doctor appointment just in case.”
 

I roll my eyes at her and start walking toward the car she drove to pick me up. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t know that for sure. You could have caught hepatitis or something while you were in there.”
 

“Scar,” I whine, “I’m fine.”
 

I give her a stern look before I quickly walk the rest of the way to the car while Scarlett scurries behind me in her heels. Each step of her heels sounds loud on the concrete while my sneakers barely make a sound.