Free The Fourth Victim by Tara Taylor Quinn

Anything that could get her into trouble. Because he loved her that much.
    And he was right about the lies. People believed Kyle. Including Kelly. Which meant Kelly didn’t think Mac loved Maggie. She thought Maggie’s Mac was that Abrams creep. She believed Kyle, so she didn’t understand.
    And because of that, Maggie couldn’t see Mac right now. Because he was older and could go to jail for loving Maggie. If they so much as smiled at each other he could be in big trouble. Which meant she had to be without the one person who loved her more than anyone else at the absolute hardest time of her life.
    And it was all Kyle’s fault.
    â€œYou want me to go back there with you?” Kyle spoke for only the third time during the whole trip as they pulled into the prison drive. The first time had been to ask her if she wanted to talk. She’d politely declined. And the second time had been to ask if she wanted to stop for something to eat or drink or to use the restroom. Like she was a little kid. Like she couldn’t make it less than an hour without eating, drinking or peeing.
    â€œNo, I know the way,” Maggie said. And then, remembering last Thursday, added, “but you have to sign me in, and if you want to wait in the hall, that would be okay.”
    She didn’t want to be in that place alone. Even if it was just Kyle waiting for her.
    She didn’t want to be pregnant at fourteen, either. She wasn’t ruining her life like Mom had. She was going to college. To be someone, like Kelly was. But still, she’d cried so much when she’d had her period and knew she wasn’t having Mac’s child.
    If she was pregnant with his baby, she’d have someone of her own to love—and to love her. And she’d have part of Mac with her always. Their love would be alive and the baby would keep them together forever.
    Kyle signed Maggie in and then stepped back. “I’ll be right here,” he said, looking her straight in the eye.
    The way Kelly did.
    She liked that, when someone looked at her as if she was a real person, not just a kid.
    Nodding, Maggie followed the guard through the series of doors that led to the dungeon where Mom lived now.
    Â 
    He’d driven fifteen minutes to the local downtown FBI office for a phone. Glancing at the cheap-looking cell, Clay drove to a nearby park and, moving at all times as he’d been instructed, he headed toward a large deserted grassy area and dialed the number he’d been given. It wasn’t like he had to worry about other park-goers this morning. It was December and barely fifty degrees outside.
    â€œAgent Thatcher? Rick Thomas here.” The voice that picked up on the first ring didn’t completely surprise Clay. It did relieve him, though. “Sorry about all the paranoia here, the scrambled phone, but I can’t afford to take chances. We were hoping my past was over, that I was free, but with Kelly Chapman missing we can’t be sure. Consequently, my fiancée and brother and I are leaving this morning for a new life under government protection. After this conversation, we won’t be speaking again.”
    Goddamn. What kind of vicious case was he into?
    â€œWho’s after you?”
    â€œI’ve made a lot of potential enemies within the world’s crime population—drugs and illegal arms, mostly—but my fifteen years of staying alive in that world tells me that if Dr. Chapman’s disappearance has anything to do with me, you’re either looking for a man named Hernandez Segura or for a mole in the United States Department of Defense.”
    Holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, Clay walked and wrote in his pocket notebook at the same time.
    â€œIn either case, if they have her, chances are they aren’tgoing to kill her right away. If someone from my world is behind this, that means they think I’ve told her something that can put them at