Taken With Trouble (CAUGHT IN CHAOS #2)

10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Liam

Who knew being on the lam could be so diverting? I haven’t had this much fun in the four years I’ve been laying low. All I needed was a cute, temperamental, borderline-frightening agent in tow.

What I should be focusing on is our next steps. Primarily, keeping our heads down until I can get to the Winthrops and ask them to call off the bounty.

But instead, my attention is focused solely on the woman in front of me. She is still fuming after I pushed her out of a window. It was an accident… mostly. I didn’t think she’d go flying. I guess it had something to do with gravity and inertia. I don’t know. Physics was never my favorite subject in school. Maybe if I’d known all the ways I would use it in life, I would have paid more attention.

“Where did you put the box?” Serena asks.

I glance from her swaying hips—I swear my eyes weren’t there a moment ago. She slows, and I dutifully turn my attention to the road, studying the faces of passing pedestrians. Any one of them could be here to capture me. Hunting me is a popular pastime as of late.

“Somewhere safe.”

“And that place is? ”

Instead of answering, I raise my hand to secure a taxi. Two pass by before the third stops.

I catch Cruz eyeing the driver, and I do the same. No obvious weapons.

“Where to?” the man asks in broken English, assuming we are tourists.

I lean forward, speaking to him quietly in French.

Serena gets into the cab without hesitation, and I slide in beside her until our sides are plastered together. She glares at me and pulls her gun out, forcing me to my side of the vehicle, all while keeping the gun hidden from the driver.

My heart thumps against my rib cage, and not because of the gun aimed at me, but because of the woman wielding it. She’s fascinating.

The driver takes off, and Serena practically falls against the seat, closing her eyes for a second before they pop back open. She’s tired. She didn’t sleep last night. I know, because I didn’t either. I wish I could do the same—fall asleep to the lull of the motorcar. But I won’t.

Two minutes into our journey, she gives in and rests her head against the window, as far away from me as possible. She scrunches up her long legs, keeping her gun locked in her hand and pointed directly at me.

Her hair is wavy from her quick shower… so different from the straight hairstyle she always wore in the States that subdued her natural beauty. Today’s wild waves make her seem free and fun. Looks can be so deceiving. But looking at her is all I can do. She’s a masterpiece I want to paint but could never adequately recreate. If I had a sketchbook, I would commit this moment to memory. Her high cheekbones and full lips. Her tiny nose and thick lashes fanning her face.

Only when I’m sure she’s asleep do I lean forward and tell the driver where we’re really going.

Serena’s going to murder me. That’s the last thought I have before my eyes drift closed.

Rumble strips jerk me awake.

Shoot.

I dart a glance at Serena, who is still asleep, a tiny snore escaping her lips. She’s a tough woman, mentally, and physically, but her snoring is the most delicate, precious thing I’ve ever witnessed. I can’t help it. I pull out my phone and record her for a solid minute.

I’m turning the camera around to get a selfie with a snoring agent when her eyes flutter open, still heavy from sleep and utterly adorable.

I drop my phone to my lap. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”

She straightens, trying and failing to tame her mess of black waves. “Where are we?”

I glance out the window. Buckingham Palace should be coming into view very soon. “You’ll see.”

The second the palace is visible, Serena catches her breath.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I grin, happy to have caught her by surprise.

“No.”

I dart a glance over at Serena who looks far from elated and instead utterly horrified.

“No, no no no. I can’t be here.” She grapples with her bag and the door handle like she’s going to jump out.

“You can’t be here? So, you’re going to jump out on the palace lawn? Brilliant idea.”

She blinks, then her deep brown eyes find mine. I expect to see anger, but I see… fear? No, that can’t be right.

An alarm goes off in the back of my brain somewhere—the same one that alerts me to trouble when I’m in the middle of a dangerous heist. My sixth sense is screaming there’s a problem, and my heart—the traitor—flips in my chest. I don’t like seeing Serena scared. Anything else will do. Angry? Bring it on. Smiling? Forever. Overly confident? It only adds to her appeal. But something about the fear in her eyes undoes the noose gripping my heart. I’ve welcomed that vise, allowing it to choke out any emotions that rose up in the last four years .

“Serena, what’s wrong?”

As quick as the fear comes, it’s gone, replaced by an intense anger. “Would you stop taking me across borders while I’m unconscious?”

My gut is telling me there’s more to this story, but I’ve watched her long enough to know she deflects all reasonable feelings with anger. “You won’t do it while you’re awake.”

Her eyes flame. “Can you blame me? I swear I’ll filet you like a fish if it’s the last thing I do.”

“You’re quite morbid.”

“Why are we here, Liam?”

“We have to get the jewelry box.”

“Why is it in London?”

“Must we really cover every detail?”

“Yes. And while you’re at it, if you could just confess to each of your crimes, it would save me a lot of time.”

The car stops at a café, and I use the interruption to avoid answering. I expect Cruz to put up more of a fight as she follows me out of the car and around the back of the building, which connects to another building, then another via an underground tunnel. But she stays right behind me.

There’s a single door to an underground apartment ahead; no one is waiting in front of it. That’s a good sign. I got the apartment for a steal since there are no windows and it’s basically against every safety code. No one has ever found me here. I lift the doorknob to reveal a keypad. I punch in the pin, then insert my key, and allow the scanner to blind my retina.

“Seriously?” Cruz deadpans. “Don’t you think that’s a bit overkill?”

“No, overkill would be jumping out of a moving car. Oh wait we already did that. I shouldn’t even bring a Fed like you here. This is my sanctuary. And now it’s compromised.”

“Is it some pathetic bachelor pad?”

I slap my hand over my heart. “You wound me.” Then I push open the door. “Welcome to heaven.”

Serena stares into the dark room. “Looks more like hell. Smells like it, too. ”

Oof. It does. “A rodent must have gotten through the cracks.” I usher her in, then lock the door behind us. I go around the room, slowly flicking on lights and booting up my cyber station.

“Does hell have a bathroom?” Serena asks.

She’s clearly not as impressed as I wanted her to be with my secret hideout, and it displeases me greatly. “Down that hall to the left.”

She doesn’t say thank you before she follows my directions. I’m well aware the last place I should bring an FBI agent is my home base. One of my thirty-three safe houses? Sure. But here? No way. She’d find enough proof here to lock me away forever… if she knows where to look, that is. I meant it when I said I’ve turned a corner. I used to steal for the fun of it. But now… let’s just say I’ve found a more creative way to use my expertise. Which is, conveniently, also quite fun. I’m a real-life vigilante, setting wrongs right in… mostly legal ways.

I flick on the projector that covers an entire wall. The buzzing fills the room, and a warmth settles in my chest. I’m home. It’s a shame I’ll have to move the second I get rid of Cruz. No doubt she’ll return with all kinds of Feds.

I sit at my favorite computer. For the record, I have seven. Each used for specific purposes. A couple are simply decoys and help reroute IP addresses and bounce signals all over the globe. Some are used for hacking, some for tracking. I have enough towers and power stations to run this whole block for a week. But it’s undetectable. I’m right below a cybersecurity firm, which is both convenient and ironic. It took me years to build up my system to perfection. Each of these computers does the work of ten men. Who needs a team of thieves who will inevitably stab me in the back when I can set codes to control entire blocks? I can walk right into any location, take what I want, and no one will know. As long as I’ve prepared my computers.

The security cameras will glitch the second I walk into a museum at 2:59. Shelly working the reception desk will get a call at exactly 3:00, informing her that her dog just died. Xavier, standing at security, will get called with an emergency on the fourth floor at 3:03. The desired wing of the museum will be evacuated at 3:04. The security system will go down for thirty seconds at 3:05. The fire exit will be disarmed for two minutes. Then I’m home free. Should anything mess with those plans, delaying or interrupting my time, I simply call it quits and set it up the next day.

It’s easy. As long as I’ve done all my necessary research. After I’ve completed my mission, another one of my algorithms searches the web for any traceable pictures of me and erases them. I was never there.

I’m about to dive into the issue at hand when I realize Cruz has been in the bathroom for a very long time. I put the computer to sleep and tiptoe down the hall.

The bathroom door is closed, and the bath is running. But I have a feeling she’s not in it. I access the camera I have in there. In my defense, it’s for protection. Not spying. As suspected, no Cruz in the bath.

I hear a sound in my bedroom and access the bedroom camera. But I don’t see her on the main feed. Which means… No.

She found my secret room.

This woman is going to be the death of me.