Taking Mine (30 page)

At least now I know it's his real name.

He doesn’t wait for my response as he sits with a folder in his hand. Justin raises a brow and mouths for me to sit. Having no reason to argue, I do.

“I know today has been a whirlwind for you, so I’ll try to keep this quick and get you out of here, hmm?”

He opens the folder, angling it toward me. It’s a detailed list of all the crimes I have committed. It fills the entire sheet of paper. I imagine this is what Justin felt like when Taylor…nope. I cut off my train of thought. Justin’s rap sheet is false. He didn’t feel anything when Taylor revealed Justin’s criminal history, because it was all fabricated.

“Grand theft auto, aiding and abetting arms smuggling and drug trafficking. War crimes.” I open my mouth to protest and he cuts me off. “Justin has informed me you had no knowledge of your actions. You were going in blind.”

“Oh, really? What else did he tell you?”

He taps a pen on the table. “He made me aware of your relationship a few hours ago, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I must let you know it’s not uncommon for field agents to become attached to their projects, especially when they’re required to monitor their targets for days, months, sometimes years in advance.”

“Wait, monitored? Was I monitored?” I look from Justin to the Assistant-whatever-the-hell-his-title-is and back again.

“Not you, specifically, but yes.”

I can feel the blood drain from my face. “For how long?”

“Classified information until the trial.”

Justin remains stoic against the wall, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes never leaving me.

It’s not until now that I realize how much deep shit I’m in. I’ve been so caught up in my personal fiasco that I’ve let Justin’s presence deter me. I’ve felt safe with him even in this situation. I thought there’s no way he’ll let me go down for this. But he will, and he is.

“I want a lawyer.”

The man doesn’t say anything as he sits back. “Do you have a lawyer?” He already knows the answer when I shake my head no. “Right, okay,” he says, standing. “I’m going to step out and let Justin explain to you why you don’t want a public defender. Off record.” I’m not given a chance to agree when he hits a switch on the wall on his way out. Justin unfolds his arms and sits in the now vacant chair.

“We’re offering you a plea bargain. They’ll let you go, walk out today, if you agree to testify against Jimmy Monroe.”

It can’t be that easy. “What’s the catch?”

His lips are thin right before he answers me. “Your testimony will implement your brother as an accomplice.”

“No.” I shake my head, even as he continues.

“If you don’t, you’re looking at fifteen years or more. This is your best option. A public defender won’t do shit to help your case. You know this. There’s too much evidence built up against you.”

“Because of you,” I hiss, and I momentarily forget about the cuffs, straining against them.

Justin sighs. “If I take them off, will you keep your hands to yourself?”

I think about coming back with a smart retort but refrain. He takes my silence as an omission, reaching into his pocket and producing the keys. Scooting his chair across the floor, he waits for me to turn around. I try not to flinch at his touch when he holds my wrists steady. He’s so close I can feel his familiarity. I’m immensely relieved when he finally lets go and I can rub the marks on my wrists.

“I won’t testify against my brother.”

“He thought you’d say that.”

“What? How does Kip know?”

Justin glances at the switch on the wall before returning to me. “We offered him the plea deal first. We agreed that I’d offer it to you.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s your brother and it’s his job to protect you.”

I rub my eyes and lay the good side of my face into my hand. I’m exhausted. Emotionally I’m just done. So done. And it’s not uncommon for prosecutors to lie during interrogation. “I want to talk with him before I do anything.”

He smiles. “Smart girl.” He leaves the room for a moment and comes back. “Let’s go.”

He makes me walk ahead of him, and I get a few dirty looks from the officers who had to restrain me. We’re only a few doors down when Justin instructs me to stop. He opens a door to a room with long rows of visitation tables. It’s the kind with the partitions that require communication to be through a telephone.

“He’s already booked and charged. The only visitation he’s allowed to have until he’s transported to a nearby facility is through this. I’m sorry.” I swallow multiple times to stop the knot in my throat from hurting. “A guard is going to stand in.”

He waits a moment, hesitant to let me be by myself, and I sit down on my side of the nearest partition. Not a second later, I hear the opposite door open and Kip walks in. I immediately burst into tears when I see his orange jumpsuit. His face fills with outrage as he yanks the phone from its hook.

“What happened to your face?” I’m sobbing in front of him and all he’s worried about is my face. “Who did that to you?”

I struggle to rein in my tears to speak. “I’m fine. It was an accident.”

Finally gathering that my emotional well-being should take precedence over my physical one, he cools his features. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not. You’re in jail, Kip. You’re going to go to prison.”

“Calm down. I can barely understand you.”

We both take a minute to let me pull myself together. “Why would you give me the plea deal?”

He takes in a deep breath before answering. “Justin came to me right after we arrived. He said he’s working on a plea deal that they were going to offer me. He suggested that I give it to you.”

“He suggested it?”

“In a way. I can’t actively give someone a plea deal, but I can turn it down. If that were the case, the prosecutors would offer it to the next defendant in line.”

“Me.”

“You. Justin knew that you were their second option.”

“But what about you? How much time are you looking at?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll be fine. I need you to be fine.”

The man sitting across from me, the brother who raised me, is worried about me when I’m not the one in chains. He’s spent his entire life watching over me and it’s gotten him where he is today. “It’s all my fault.” My words come broken through tears. “I was the one who brought him into our lives.”

I don’t need to say who; he already knows. “No, Lil. This is my fault. I let things get this far. It was my job to protect you, and I didn’t do that.”

“Did you know Jimmy was Kaley’s dad?”

“No. I had no reason to connect the dots. Justin said they have her in questioning about what she may know.”

“Kip, I can’t take your plea deal.”

“You can, and you will. I’ve stashed some money away in a savings account. It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep you grounded for a little while. It’s what I was banking on using when you got into graduate school.”

School, bills, simply living alone gives a whole new perspective on how I’m going to be alone. Kip’s always been my safe haven. Without him I have no one.

His smile is weak when he says, “It’s time to figure things out on your own.”

I spend the next five minutes trying to pull myself together as Kip gives me directions on things I might need to do while he’s gone. Justin steps in and announces that our time is up, and Kip reassures me that I’ll get through this. I don’t know who can actually hear our conversation on the other side of the phones, but Justin doesn’t mention my tear-streaked face as we go back to the original interrogation room.

“You’re going to need protection,” Tim states as he walks through the door.

He drops a pile of paperwork in front of me. “Protection?”

“John Monroe has enough employees all over the state that it puts you in a precarious position.”

“Precarious…”

“You’re testifying against someone with a lot of connections. We have reason to believe you might not be safe. We can’t guarantee that someone won’t come looking for you.”

“Are we talking about witness protection?”

“No, nothing that drastic. Monroe is a mediocre fish in a big pond, not a shark. So what we’re going to do is assign a patrol to you twenty-four hours a day and until the trial is over. Just to be sure.”

“Just to be sure,” I repeat, new fear sinking in.

“Lance and Justin have both volunteered to split the shifts. You’re in good hands.”

Justin confirms with a slow head nod. “No,” I say, pushing the papers away from me. “No, not them. Anyone but them.”

“Lilly,” Justin says, moving closer to me.

“No,” I cut him off. “How am I supposed to trust you to keep me safe when you betrayed me?”

“It’s my job,” he says, holding a hand to his chest. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Not fucking me would have been a great start.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Tim holds his hands up in both of our directions. “Spare me the details. This lovers’ quarrel can be had another time. Right now, Lilly, you need protection, and these are two very dependable agents. You’re an asset to this case, and I guarantee neither one of these agents wants to see it go down the drain. So, whatever you're feeling needs to be put on the back burner. Got it?”

Justin recedes to his wall and I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not under you.”

“With all due respect, Miss Foster, you kind of are until this trial is over. If you somehow violate our contract, you’ll be back in jail indefinitely.”

“Can I refuse protection?”

“Are you seriously telling me you’d risk your life rather than have anything to do with me?” Justin’s voice is incredulous, disbelief across his face.

“Yes,” I answer blatantly, holding his stare.

I don’t say it, but it’s there. Him. I’ve lost him. He doesn’t reply as he shifts his attention away from me, finding the wall more interesting to look at.

“It’s not your life to protect anyway, Lilly,” Tim says, standing. “You currently belong to the federal government. The prosecution will take over the investigation from here.” He stops once he reaches the door. “One last thing…Justin and Lance have both made it clear to me that you received no monetary compensation for the work you did for Jimmy. I have no reason to assume otherwise since we’ve searched your home and found no evidence.” He pauses one last time and looks at Justin and back, sighing heavily in the small room. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay? Any large purchases in cash are going to look questionable.”

I’m flabbergasted. Suddenly the conversation Justin and I had about storing the cash at his apartment holds more clarity. He knew eventually my house would be searched and they’d seize anything that looked like evidence. He’d been preparing me for this.

“Now what?” I ask.

Justin slides the papers I pushed away back to me. “Now you read through these, sign them, and we’ll release you.” He pulls a pen from his pockets and hands it to me.

So I do. It takes close to an hour to finish all of the paperwork and write a summary of my involvement with John Monroe. In the bottom right-hand corner of the loose leaf, I write the word ‘stupid,’ because that’s what this all amounts to, and I lay my pen down.

“I’m sure you’ve got questions,” Justin says, looking from the ground to me.

He's right, I do. So many inconsistencies and contradictions have run through my mind, most of them pertaining to us.

“Can I go home?” I ask instead.

“Lilly.”

“No, I can’t right now.”

“Can I at least get a word in?” Irritation and a small amount of desperation lace his voice.

“No. I’m tired, I want to go home.” My voice cracks on the last word, and it makes my anger spike. I’m the one who’s desperate. I’m desperate to get back to a place I know, a place I feel any small amount of comfort, and forget about the last twelve hours. Hell, let’s make it twenty-four, so I can forget about last night.

And he can see it. It’s written across every part of me, just like every other time he could read me so well. Now I know it’s probably because of his training. Maybe it’s something he already had a knack for and honed it in throughout however long he’s been Special Agent Justin. Either way, he knows he’s pushing me from the small amount of thread I’m hanging by.

“Okay,” he says, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I’ll take a cab.”

“I’m taking first patrol, so I can take you.”

“You can follow me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and releases it. “You’re going to have to talk to me eventually.”

I don’t comment as he leads me out the door and points to a lady who will process me. My eyes are heavy as I’m issued through more locked doors and more paperwork. By the time I see the light at the end of the tunnel, my legs are lead and the ground is a magnet, every step taking more effort than the last.

Light is just breaking over the buildings, and the morning air nips at my skin. A few birds chirp and hop around benches, already searching for food. There’s a slight breeze in the air, morning dew resting on every surface. It’s freezing. The clothes I wore to go shopping in aren’t sufficient.

People are already up and about, milling for work. Dog walkers are already on their first run, and taxis weave in and out of traffic, carrying passengers to their destinations. Meanwhile, I’m standing on the stoop of the jail with the life I once knew in shambles. Not a single person on the outside of this building’s walls is waiting for me.

A black SUV pulls up to the curb, and I make out Justin’s form behind the wheel. Supposing he’s waiting on me, I hail a cab. I keep my mind singularly focused on my mission to get home. There's literally nothing to think about. I’m past the point of exhaustion.

It’s a thirty-minute drive from the city, and from my position in the car, I can already sense the unfamiliarity of Kip’s absence. We park in front of the house, and the distance seems like it’s much too great. I think about lying down across the seat of the cab, asking the taxi driver to just keep the meter running, but Justin pays my fare.

I’m completely spaced as I walk the small pathway to the front door. The turn of the knob indicates that the door isn't locked, and Justin hovers as I push the door open. All I can do is stare.