Taken With Trouble (CAUGHT IN CHAOS #2)

2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Serena

Location: Phoenix Arizona

One month later

I know one hundred and seventeen different ways to kill a man. On any given day, the likelihood of doing so is a healthy fifteen to thirty percent. Today, I’m at eighty-five. Though, we are in the car, and the person I dream of assassinating is driving, which reduces the number of ways I can execute at the moment.

This is what I do when I’m stressed: I calculate exit strategies. In this case, the quickest way out may be murder.

“And then,” Agent Hadley continues with a story he’s been telling in aggravating detail for the last thirty minutes, talking to me as if I’m one of the bros. Something about being six feet tall in a male-dominated industry puts me in the bro category far too often. “She tried to wrap both of her hands around my bicep but couldn’t reach because I’m so ripped—”

“Or she had small hands,” I retort.

He frowns at the road. “Anyway, she said she wanted to go to my place—”

I can’t do it. I whirl on him. “Hadley, I swear if you do not shut up, I will shoot you right now.” In the arm. My risk calculation shows that target poses the least threat to my life .

Hadley glances over the middle console, his blue eyes narrowing. “Be honest, you’re the one who shot Agent Harris, right?”

“If I’d known his injury meant I’d be stuck with you, I would have jumped in front of the bullet myself.”

Did I fail to protect my partner? No. He was stupid and let love get in the way of thinking straight.

Should I have been there to help? Yes.

He shoves a hand through his thick black hair. “Didn’t your first partner get shot, too? That’s why you transferred a year ago, right? Did you shoot him, and that’s why your file is confidential?”

My skin goes cold, and my heart all but stops beating.

How does he know that?

There were rumors. There always are when an agent requests an immediate transfer. But how does he know? He can’t. Unless S-A-C Ford told him. They are good friends, the classic ‘bros’ in bromance. But not even Ford has access to my confidential file.

“I did not shoot my partner.” I clamp my lips shut, refusing to confirm or deny anything more. Whatever I say will make it back to Ford. I’m sure Hadley has told him every undesirable thing about me since being stuck with me the last couple of weeks.

I take a deep breath. Two more days. Two more days, and this torture will end. I’ll have Agent Harris back as my partner, and this will all be a bad memory.

A message pops up on my phone. Speak of the devil. Caleb sent me a picture… of Liam? At a hotel?

“Take that left!” I yell at Hadley while texting Caleb. “Chateau Limone, and step on it.”

I study the picture again. That’s Liam; it has to be. I would know his side profile anywhere. Since he disappeared a couple of weeks ago, I’ve had plenty of time to study the images from his file, which capture him from every angle. Caleb nearly caught him but got shot, and where was I? Looking for the rogue agent who is still at large instead of being with my partner. My superiors have reprimanded me repeatedly for my errors .

I will not let Liam get away again.

“What’s going on?” Hadley asks.

“Liam was spotted there.”

He nods only once. As annoying as he can be, he’s a dutiful agent. Exactly one minute and forty-five seconds later, he pulls the SUV onto the curb in front of the hotel.

“I’ll take the main level. You go up,” Hadley says.

I don’t hesitate. I sprint to the second floor housing the restaurant, my head on a swivel.

Why would Liam be here? I thought he fled the country.

But I’m not about to pass up the opportunity. I’m going to catch him and then Gavin—I mean, S-A-C Ford—will finally see my potential. Maybe he’ll ask me on a date, and we will fall in love during a high-speed chase. I don’t know how that fits in, but it sounds romantic. Ford is a good guy, and I deserve to fall in love with a good guy, for once.

I hit the top step, my attention zeroed in on the west hallway where a man in a black suit disappeared. It has to be Liam. The man dresses in only one style: pretentious.

I dodge a waiter, holding my badge as I run past as an apology for nearly tripping him. Being an FBI agent has some perks. I can be rude and have an excuse, which is only one of the reasons I always carry my badge, on and off duty.

The hall is quiet when I reach it. No sign of Liam. But a gust of hot Phoenix air filters through the enclosed hallway. He took the stairwell.

I rush to the door and listen. Did he go down? No. His footsteps are coming from above. I pull open the door and sprint up the stairs. I should radio Hadley, but this is the first solid minute of peace I’ve had in three weeks. The pounding of footsteps reaches me. Liam is about two stories up. Got him.

I use the railing and my long legs to haul myself up without letting my feet pound too hard and alerting him to my presence. But every sound echoes up the cavernous stairwell .

A door opens on the level above me and I speed up. I hit the fifth floor, and duck inside the dim hallway, the lush carpet silencing the thumping of my boots.

I hear a click, then a door opening and shutting around the corner.

Catching my breath, I round the corner, relieved to find a single door labeled suite . Because of course, the egomaniac would book a suite for himself while running from the law. And a large bounty, if rumors at the office are to be believed.

I listen for a moment, confirming the sound of someone inside. This hotel is old enough they still have actual keys, making the lock much easier to pick. I test the handle just in case, and… he left it unlocked. Idiot. I hesitate only a moment before kicking open the door, gun outstretched.

Liam looks up from the bar as I step inside, a mug in his hand, a self-righteous smile curling his lips. He hardly seems shocked as his placid blue eyes meet mine. “Special Agent Cruz. It’s about time. You look lovely today.”

Unease crawls over my skin. He left the door open on purpose. And he knows my name.

This is a trap.

I consider bolting out the door, but I’m the one with the gun. And I’m not about to let this man get away again.

“Hands up, Hawthorne.” I aim at his chest.

Liam lowers the mug to the counter and stalks around the kitchen island, something like intrigue growing in his eyes. “I must say, I find this situation very seductive. Tell me, did you bring handcuffs as well?”

I glower, utterly repulsed. The man is a well-known womanizer, and I will not give in to his hideous charms. Not again, anyway. It’s for this reason, among various others, that I hate him. His wavy brown hair and the day-old scruff along his chin are unfair. How unfortunate that a man so awful can be so attractive.

“Get on the ground, and I’ll show you exactly how I plan to use my handcuffs.”

Something flashes in his eyes, but instead of getting on his knees like an obedient puppy, he walks aimlessly around the suite. When he reaches the living room, he unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt, rolling his sleeves to reveal tanned forearms with veins crisscrossing like spiderwebs. Have I ever noticed forearms before? I clench my jaw, keeping my emotions in check. I will not be flustered or distracted by him. I’ve got a job, and I plan to do it.

He drops onto the leather couch, spreading his arms as if to invite me into an embrace. “Shall we begin?”

I angle the gun toward his heart. “Sure, left shoulder or right?”

“Ah, Cruz, you’re no fun.”

I’ve been hearing that a lot lately and, quite frankly, it’s getting on my nerves. You know what form of fun is severely underrated? Arresting people.

“Up.” I stalk forward.

He gives me a world-weary kind of sigh and heaves off the couch, exaggerating the effort. “I suppose we can do it your way, though you’ll have to impress me.” His voice deepens with each word, and a chill swoops through me as he approaches.

Impress him?

In one quick move, my gun disappears from my hand and ends up in his. He pumps his brows, much too pleased with himself. Training takes over, and I kick his arm. He curses, dropping the gun to the floor. We both dive for it, but Liam goes for the cheap shot, elbowing me in the ribs. He gets the gun, but I snatch his leg, tripping him as he tries to stand.

I leap on top of him, reaching for the gun above his head. He’s got one arm locked around my waist, smashing me into him and preventing me from reaching the gun. I stretch, wiggling my fingers… almost.

My face is inches from his, but as I’m struggling, he’s grinning.

“Just as I pictured it.” His breath burns my neck, adding insult to injury.

“Try picturing the color orange. It will look great on you.”

His lips twitch ever so slightly, and his hold on the gun releases. I pinch the inside of his arm, breaking his hold on my waist and snatching the gun from his hand. I scoot to my knees, hovering over him, the barrel of the gun inches from his chest. “Let’s go, Hawthorne. You are under arrest. ”

He purses his lips, sitting up enough to rest lazily on his elbows. “But if we leave now, you’ll miss the best part.”

Something clicks behind me, and Liam’s eyes flick to the door. His eyebrows shoot up. He’s trying to distract me, but it won’t work.

“The best part will be locking your sorry a—” The words are taken from my lips. From my body. A warm damp cloth clamps against my mouth, and though I fight it, desperately, the chloroform takes me.