Page 10 of Taken With Trouble


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Liam

I step to theright and a very frustrated Serena Cruz flies past me.

I spin, amused, and a little turned on by her pursual of me. She turns, but her body sways to the side. She grabs her head, and her eyes seem to glaze over.

Her complexion is off. She’s about to pass out.

I rush forward, intending to catch her in my arms, but as I reach for her, she snaps to, throwing a fist at my nose and tripping me.

I fall to the ground, the taste of blood coating my mouth. Why would I think we could just hug and talk it out? My mistake.

Cruz leans against the wall, her head in her hands.

I consider offering to get her a glass of water. The effects of chloroform can be intense, but I don’t trust her enough to turn my back on her yet. Or ever. And I don’t particularly like her right now. I’m bleeding on my favorite travel suit.

I stand, grab a kitchen towel, and wait for the apology I know won’t be coming. Serena looks up and walks into the kitchen. I reach into a cabinet and hand her a cup that she fills with water, immediately draining it. Clearly, she’s parched, which would also be my fault.

“I’m not helping you,” she says hoarsely as she refills the glass.

I don’t blame her for not wanting to help, but I’m not above begging. Or coercing. They’re essentially the same. “Admit it. You need this. We can both help each other out.”

Her dark eyes narrow. “I do not need your help, nor do I think you are capable of doing anything altruistic. You’re only ever looking out for yourself.”

I drop my rag, hoping the bleeding has stopped. “You don’t know me, not really.” Nobody does. No one has ever cared to. Not even Scarlett.

“I know more than you think.”

“You only know what I’ve allowed you to see.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Please. This is all I’ve wanted for four years. Just let me return the box and the ring to the Winthrops, and then I’m yours to do with as you please. Think of how impressed your superiors will be when you bring me in. You can even handcuff me to you until then, just to make sure I behave.

Her beautiful eyes darken. “You wish.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “I mean…”

“I need my badge,” she says abruptly.

My lips turn down. Of all the things I took from her pockets while she was asleep—and believe me, there were some interesting things—she wants her badge?

I eye her clenched fists. “Tomorrow.” I need some sort of leverage to keep her from running.

“Now. Give me my badge.” Her voice shakes and a weird feeling hits the place in my chest that’s supposed to hold my heart.

I press my palm to the uncomfortable gnawing.

“Fine.” I walk backward to the toaster, fish out her badge, then toss it to her.

She audibly sighs as she presses it to her chest. Is she hiding something in there? I could have sworn I checked her belongings, but maybe I missed one.

“Now the jewelry box.” She holds out her other hand.

“Excuse me?”

“The jewelry box and the ring. Give them both to me, then I’ll agree. I’ll keep them in my possession until it’s time to turn them over.”

“Why?”

“I don’t trust you.”

She makes a good point. “I don’t trust you, either.”