Forgiving Keven: A Stand-Alone Second Chance Romance Read online

  Note from the Author

  While you can read Forgiving Keven as a standalone book, and it is a complete romance with a HEA for our couple, it is advisable to read the previous books in the series first to enjoy the full Kennedy Boys experience! All of the titles are currently enrolled in the Kindle Unlimited program, so they are free to borrow. Please note that this book contains spoilers to events from previous books. For those who are up to date with the series, Cheryl and Keven’s story picks up straight after the end of Seducing Kaden.

  Table of Contents

  Note from the Author

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Books by Siobhan Davis

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Christmas

  Keven

  Agent Dickhead shoves my head in the back of his FBI-issued SUV while the female agent—who has yet to introduce herself—gets in the other side to keep an eye on me. Jerkoff slides behind the wheel and starts the engine.

  I stare out the window, at familiar landscape, as the miles eat away.

  I’ve always known this day would come. Despite how careful I’ve been, some things refuse to stay buried. I knew the risk I was taking the day I sent the anonymous tip to the FBI about Kade and Eva’s location. There wasn’t time to put the proper precautions in place, and I knew it wouldn’t take too long before they discovered where the tip originated from. I knew it would lead to further investigation, but if I had my time over again, I’d still do the same.

  My brother and his wife would have died that day if I hadn’t intervened.

  And if I end up going to jail, I won’t have any regrets.

  My brother is alive, and that’s all that counts.

  The silence in the SUV is deafening, but I sure as fuck won’t be the first to break it. So, I continue looking out the window, calmly awaiting my fate.

  A short while later, we pull up at the back entrance of what I know is the local FBI field office in Chelsea, Massachusetts. I cooperate as I’m removed from the car and led into the building.

  They deposit me in a small room, cuffing my hands to the table and leaving me alone.

  Some time passes, and then the same two agents return with an older gentleman with thick dark hair. He removes the handcuffs from my wrists before dropping into a chair across from me while the other two stand in the corner like dutiful lackeys.

  “Good evening, Mr. Kennedy,” he says. “I’m Supervisory Special Agent Andrew Clement, and I’d like to have an off-the-record chat with you before your attorney arrives.” Slamming a heavy manila folder down on the table, he eyeballs me with a penetrating stare. “We’ve had our eye on you for some time, Keven.” He raps his fingers off the table while I stare neutrally ahead. “You’ve been a very naughty boy.” He flips open the file, skimming through documents. “Illegal online gambling. Identify theft and larceny. Illegal wiretapping. Not to mention some of the undesirables you’ve been connected to in the past. The list goes on.”

  He has no idea.

  Propping his elbows on the desk, he stabs me with sharp hazel eyes. “There is no denying how incredibly skilled you are with a computer, or your obvious intelligence, so I have a proposition for you.”

  I arch a brow, as the woman pulls a white screen down from the ceiling.

  “Our analysis shows you have tried to mend your ways, and your most recent illegal activities have all centered on protecting family and friends. We know you sent us the anonymous tip which led us to the warehouse that day, and we’re grateful.”

  He pauses momentarily. “However, your actions are enough to put you away for quite some time unless you agree to come and work for us,” he adds.

  Okay, what?

  I eyeball the guy like he’s crazy. “Work for you?” I splutter. “Doing what?”

  “We could use a good technical analyst like you on a special high-priority undercover case.”

  “And what? If I do this, you’ll rip up those charges?”

  Extracting a document from the file, he slides it across the table to me. “That’s a contract of employment which also confirms if you come to work with us we’ll drop all pending charges against you and shred your file, subject to certain provisions, of course.”

  “What if I don’t want to come and work for you?”

  “Then you’ll be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”

  I say nothing for a few minutes. “I need some time to think about it.”

  The man smiles, as if I’ve just told a joke. “This is a one-time offer, and you’ll need to make your mind up now.” He clicks his fingers, and Agent Dickhead switches off the light as the screen powers up. “Perhaps this might help persuade you,” Agent Clement says.

  Photos of various well-known criminals appear on the screen, and he starts explaining. “Following the recent death of Jeremy Garcia, a drug war has erupted on our streets, as various interested parties battle to take over what was his.”

  More images fill the screen. “But that’s not even the real problem. Most of the main players have their hands in several cookie jars. Narcotics is only one aspect of their business.”

  The images on the screen shift, showing several large trucks, open at the rear, with young girls spilling out of the vehicles, crying and in various stages of undress. “Sex trafficking is another lucrative source of income, and something that’s been on our radar for quite some time, but we’re struggling to find evidence to pin these guys down.”

  The images return to some of Massachusetts’s most notorious gangsters. “The turmoil in the aftermath of Garcia’s demise grants us an opportunity to infiltrate these organizations and start to build solid evidence against those responsible. With your background, and your skills, you could be a valuable asset to our team.”

  The screen changes again, and my eyes zone in on the pretty blonde outside the photography studio. My chest tightens as I examine the shot in more detail. She’s looking up at a guy I don’t recognize, and they’re smiling at one another. “Who’s that?” I ask, gnawing on the inside of my mouth.

  “Daniel Stanten. A relative newcomer on the scene. He was being groomed by Garcia, and word on the street is he’s the one to watch.”

  “And the girl?” I ask although I already know her name.

  “Cheryl Keeland. His fiancée.”

  “I’ll do it,” I blurt. “I’ll come and work for you.” Light floods the room, and Agent Clement stares at me in surprise. I reach for the contract. “Where do I sign?”

  Removing a pen from his inside jacket pocket, he hands it to me. I don’t even bother reading it. Dan Evans, our family attorney, will string me up by the balls for this, but screw that shit.

  I’ve spent years trying to get all thoughts and memories
of Cheryl Keeland out of my head, to no avail. Torn through girls like they were a two-for-one special, but nothing or no one can erase the only girl who has ever owned my heart.

  Cheryl was the love of my life growing up, and I never envisioned a future where she wasn’t in it.

  Until I fucked up.

  And I lost her.

  And I haven’t been at peace within myself since.

  I don’t believe in kismet or karma or whatever the fuck you call it.

  But right now, it feels like fate is sending me one big-ass message.

  And I’m not going to fuck up again.

  Cheryl may be engaged to that guy, but she hasn’t married him yet, so there’s still time to warn her.

  Time to tell her what I should have told her senior year.

  Time to win back the heart of the only girl who has ever mattered.

  Skipping to the back page of the contract, I scribble my signature in the field provided, sliding the document across the slick surface to a shocked Agent Clement.

  Grinning, I lean back in my chair. “When do I start?”

  Chapter 1

  March of the Following Year

  Keven

  I stare at the screen without really seeing it. When I completed my training in Quantico and returned to the Chelsea field office a week ago, I expected the SSA—Special Supervisory Agent Clement—to assign me to something more exciting than this.

  When he initially presented me with his proposition, he mentioned a high-profile undercover operation, and I stupidly thought that meant I’d be in the thick of the action. Maybe Dan Evans was right, and I should have waited for him to arrive before signing my name on that contract. But I was too hyped-up at the thought of my high school sweetheart being in danger to think logically. Which is most unlike me because I’m usually meticulous in my planning.

  Now I’m here—stuck behind a desk— instead of out there protecting the only girl I’ve ever loved.

  Yes, I know my role is technically an intelligence analyst and that you have to be at least twenty-three before they consider you for a field agent role, but Supervisory Special Agent Andrew Clement recruited me to join a classified organized crime task force, and I thought that meant special exemption.

  But I was wrong.

  Ordinarily, sitting in front of a computer trawling for information for hours at a time is right up my alley but not on this occasion.

  I only took this job to get close to Cheryl.

  To protect her from that criminal she’s engaged to.

  To find out if there’s a way to right the wrongs of the past.

  But I can’t do that if I’m trapped in this fucking office all day.

  So, I’ve had no choice but to take matters into my own hands. One part of my plan is already in motion, and now it’s time to make my second play.

  My chair screeches as I jump up, causing a couple of my colleagues to jerk their heads in my direction. I stride across the room with purpose, bounding up the stairs to the higher level, and stalk toward the SSA’s office. I rap on the door and wait to be called. Thirty seconds pass, and I’m conscious of eyeballs glued to my back from the lower level below. I’m about to knock a second time when the door flies open.

  “Ah, Mr. Kennedy. What a coincidence. I was just about to summon you.” He steps aside. “Come in.”

  I brush past him and sit down in one of the empty chairs in front of his desk.

  “Make yourself at home,” he deadpans before dropping into his seat and leveling me with an intense stare. I hold his stare, refusing to back down or show any obvious emotion on my face. He drums his fingers off the top of the desk. “Why did you need to see me?” he inquires.

  “If surveillance hasn’t been assigned to Cheryl Keeland, Daniel Stanten’s fiancée, yet, then I’d like to request the job.” I know no one is shadowing Cheryl, but it’s best not to clue him in on how well informed I am.

  “And why would I do that?” He arches a brow.

  I clear my throat, preparing to admit some of the truth. “I know her, and I’m concerned about her safety.”

  His lips curve up ever so slightly. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to admit that.” I can’t hide the surprise on my face. He leans forward, propping his elbows on the desk. “Your reaction the first day we met completely gave you away. I’ll admit I wasn’t aware of the connection between you two the day I presented our proposition, but I knew your sudden agreement was something to do with that girl, so I ordered a background check.”

  “Then you understand.” I fold my arms and wait for him to continue.

  “If you joined this team expecting it to be an opportunity to reunite with your high school sweetheart, then I hate to be the one to disappoint you, but that’s not going to happen.”

  “I joined the team to ensure she’s safe, and I want to help bring down those pricks who almost killed my brother and sister-in-law. Those bastards who are kidnapping young girls from Mexico and trafficking them into the U.S. Those degenerates who flood our streets with drugs and guns, preying on the weak and vulnerable. That’s why I’m here.”

  It’s not a lie.

  Yes, Cheryl was my initial motivation, but the more I’ve uncovered about the criminal underworld thriving in Boston, the more I’m determined to help bring them down.

  “How very noble of you,” he drawls.

  I work hard to resist the urge to flip him the bird. “It’s the truth,” I calmly reply.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He purses his lips as he stares at me. “And I happen to believe you’ll make an excellent agent, in time, provided you remember why you are here. And that’s not some personal crusade to protect your lost love. You have a set role in this team, and that’s to provide intelligence.”

  “I don’t see why I can’t do both. It’s not like one is completely separate from the other,” I argue.

  “They are not mutually exclusive, and that’s the very reason why you won’t be going anywhere near Cheryl Keeland. To do so could jeopardize our entire operation, and we’ve invested too much time to risk it. Our undercover agents have infiltrated both rival organizations, and we can’t take any action which might undermine their efforts.”

  He stands, coming around the front of the desk. Propping his ass on the corner, he leans over me. “Besides, Daniel Stanten is only a minor player and not the focus of our attention at this time.”

  “I thought you said he was the one to watch?”

  “Intel we’ve gleaned while you were in Quantico points to other parties with more controlling responsibilities, and that’s where we’re focusing our efforts, for the moment, so there’s no need for any surveillance on Ms. Keeland or Mr. Stanten.”

  “That’s a mistake.”

  The expression on his face is a cross between mild amusement and mild irritation. “Is that so?”

  I sit up straighter. “Yes. Something is off about that guy. He grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in Roxbury, yet he went on to graduate with honors from Harvard Law, and then he set up his own legal practice pretty much straight out of college, funded by Jeremy Garcia. We both know it’s not legit and that Garcia was grooming him for a bigger role, you said that yourself, but the question is why Stanten in the first place? What connects Garcia and Stanten that would have him choosing a newbie to take care of his legal affairs? It doesn’t add up. There’s got to be some purpose behind it.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” He shrugs. “Garcia’s own son died at birth, and he’d taken a number of young men under his wing over the years. It’s not inconceivable to think he was trying to find someone worthy to replace him. Someone who would succeed him at the helm of the organization when the time was right.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but why Stanten? Why, and how, did he come to Garcia’s attention?”

  “It sounds like som
eone has been doing some moonlighting on the case.”

  I hold up my hands. “I admit I’ve been digging into his background, but it’s all been on my own time.”

  He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Perhaps you’re right, and it ties into the reason why I wanted to speak with you.” He pauses briefly. “I need to speak to Eva Garcia.”

  “Eva Kennedy,” I correct, quickly cutting across him. Eva’s married to my brother now, and she wants no reminders of that monster she was once forced into marrying. When Jeremy Garcia died that day in the warehouse, Eva wasted no time cutting all ties with him. He’s a part of her past she’s trying to put behind her.

  “I meant no offense, and I’ve called you in here as a courtesy. I could bring Eva in for questioning at any time, but I thought you might like to mention it to her, and we could schedule a mutually convenient time that suits both parties.”

  “Is there anything specific you need to talk to her about, or it’s more of a general conversation?”

  “I’d like to talk to her about her time with Garcia. To find out if she has any information that might help with our case. Agent Wentward seemed to think she’d be predisposed to help.”

  “Agent Wentward?” Disbelief bleeds from my tone. Agent Dickhead, as I prefer to call him, doesn’t have any knowledge or right to make such sweeping statements. There’s no love lost between the two of us since my arrest, that’s for sure. He hasn’t done anything to hide his disdain for me, and I love returning the favor. “How the hell is he qualified to cast judgment on Eva?”