Finding Kyle(61)

We had been immediately separated, each being interviewed by men who had clearly identified themselves as FBI, although I was told vaguely that I’d be interviewed later by ATF. I have no clue what the fuck is going on, but I notice with an odd sort of detachment that Kyle didn’t seemed wigged out by any of this.

Not that I was held at gunpoint.

Not that he killed a man.

Not that he was surrounded by flashing police lights and was telling his story to the FBI. In fact, he had been casually leaning up against one of the unmarked cars with his hands in his pockets, cutting short glances of worry at me. I glared back at him, because the one thing that had become patently clear to me is that Kyle had been beyond deceitful. I mean… I’m not stupid. I knew he had secrets he was keeping. But I didn’t know they involved murder and law enforcement and Jesus… will I be able to get the blood out of my carpet when I get home?

“Miss Cresson, I urge you to please wait,” the man says. “I know Agents Kizner and Sommerville want to speak to you.”

“I have no clue who those men are, and I don’t want to know,” I snap at him as I walk for the door.

“They’re ATF and they’re heading up this entire investigation,” he says as my hand closes around the knob.

“Well, good for them,” I sneer as I jerk the door open. “I wish them the best of luck.”

I step out of the small room I’d been put in at our dinky Misty Harbor police department and run smack into Kyle. His hands come out to steady my arms, and I immediately tear free of him.

“Don’t touch me,” I snarl.

He flinches slightly, but his face hardens into stony resolve. “We need to talk.”

“You need to go to hell,” I hiss at him, so angry by his duplicity that I can barely look at him.

“Agent Sommerville,” the man who had been sitting with me says to Kyle from behind me. “I tried to keep her in place.”

“It’s okay,” Kyle says to the man, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Clear the room so I can talk to her.”

I narrow my eyes at Kyle and practically spit out my disbelief. “Sommerville? Agent Sommerville? Who the fuck are you? Is your name even really Kyle?”

With each of these questions, my voice gets more hysterical.

Kyle takes my arm. My immediate reaction is to pull away, more in disgust than anything, but I’m also far too curious to find out the exact reasons Kyle had been playing me.

And ultimately, almost getting me killed.

I let him direct me back into the room. Luckily for him, he releases me the minute we’re inside. I don’t bother taking a seat because I don’t plan to be here long. As soon as he closes the door behind us, I whirl on him and demand. “Speak and speak fast. I want to get out of here.”

Kyle nods in understanding, and then completely stuns me when he says, “Your parents are out in the waiting room. I called them.”

“You called them?” I ask in disbelief.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he walks away from me to stand in front of the window that looks out over the darkened parking lot of the police station. With his hands tucked in his pockets, he almost knocks my feet out from under me when he says, “I was an undercover agent with the feds… ATF to be exact. I was deep undercover with a very dangerous biker gang for a few years, and just about nine months ago, we brought them all down.”

“Those tattoos,” I murmur, the very first thing coming to mind. I could never reconcile the man I’d come to know with such an evil-looking skull on his chest and a warning that he should be feared.

“Part of my cover,” he provides. “Since we made arrests, I’ve been laying low because I’m the key witness to all of it. The trial will start the month after next.”

My jaw, which had previously dropped down to my chest, draws upward and I ask, “Like witness protection?”

“Sort of,” is all he says as he turns to face me. “The man in your house tonight was sent to put a hit on me. I assume he was going to use you to draw me in.”

“How did you know he was in my house?” I ask.

“I didn’t,” he says flatly. “I knew you were hurting. I went to see if you were okay.”

“Is your name even Kyle?” I ask in a pitifully small voice.

“Yes,” he says gently and takes a step toward me. I take a step back, but he continues. “It’s Kyle Sommerville, and most of what little I told you about me personally was true, except for the fact that I have a sister named Andrea. She has no clue I’m even alive, as my death was faked when the arrests were made.”

My eyes fall to the tile floor, unable to look at Kyle anymore. Of all the things I thought he might be, it was never law enforcement. But it explains his reticence to get involved with me and his continued resolve that he was going to be leaving at some point.

Still, I feel so… so… deceived. Even though he told me he was leaving, he deceived me about why. And yes, I get that even his sister was kept in the dark, but what we had was different. We shared the deepest of intimacies, and he surely had to know that I’d never have given him up.

My nose starts to sting at the realization that Kyle would have never trusted me, and I use every bit of my willpower not to let my welling emotions turn into tears. I square my shoulders and look back up at him. He’s watching me carefully… warily.