Taken With Trouble (CAUGHT IN CHAOS #2)

31. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Liam

Leaving Serena was a bad idea.

No, it was a good idea.

Or was it bad? Hours later, I still can’t decide. I don’t even have a plan. The only thought in my brain was keeping her safe, which meant getting rid of Sebastian myself.

I have a theory. I found zero evidence my grandfather was on the boat, so maybe, just maybe, they don’t have him.

There’s only one way to find out. His security feeds are still down, but maybe he turned them off and forgot to turn them back on. I know it’s wishful thinking, but I can’t help it.

Anxiety claws at my chest the closer I get to my grandfather’s home in Haslemere, two hours from where I left Serena. I spent every summer growing up in the country with him. With Seraphina. When I returned home from boarding school each year, my parents immediately shipped me off to my grandfather. He’s the one who taught me everything school couldn’t teach me. How to recognize a good opportunity. When to kiss a girl—though, I screwed that up with Serena. Who could be trusted and who couldn’t. And how to hack into any database in the world. He taught me everything .

I take the back road to my grandfather’s home which will land me discreetly in the middle of a clump of trees instead of the front door. When I’m sure it’s not a trap, I park and pull out my phone.

There’s a single text from Terry.

Serena called her partner.

I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse. I did leave her this morning, but how could I possibly have brought her knowing this may be another trap? Whoever has my grandfather can do whatever they want to me, but I refuse to let them touch her. She’s too important to the world. To me. But we both know her trust is better placed in her partner than in me. He can keep her safe in a way I can’t: Legally.

I slip my gun out of my waistband as I cut through the dense overgrowth to my grandfather’s house. The place hasn’t changed much since I was here over five years ago. It makes sense. Grandfather is getting old. He can’t hike through the hills like we used to, shooting pistols and hiding treasures for me to find. I tiptoe around one spot I dug up at least three times when I was thirteen before Grandfather told me I was looking in the wrong place. He would never tell me that to start with. I had to put in the work first.

I near the end of the tree covering and stay where I am. My eyes fly to the willow tree at the edge of the property. I’ll have to bring Serena back here sometime. I watch the house for at least thirty minutes before deeming it safe enough to risk an approach. It doesn’t make sense. The fact that last night was a trap, makes it more confusing that this isn’t a trap. I guess that is a trap in its own way. There’s something I’m supposed to find in this house, otherwise they would never have left it unguarded.

It’s that thought that has me breaking through the clearing and sprinting to the house. What if my grandfather is in there, hurt, bleeding out? All because of me. The back door is locked but I solve that problem by smashing a window.

I run through the house, calling his name, but silence greets me in return. It’s at his closed study door that I finally pause. I twist the doorknob slowly. I’m equally relieved and afraid to find it empty. But it’s not all empty. There’s a single sheet of paper on the desk. I grab the paper, closing my eyes for a split second, praying it doesn’t say what I predict it will. But I have to know. I open my eyes and read the words.

Looks like you screwed up. Luckily for you, I’m feeling generous. I’ll give you one more chance to retrieve something that I desperately need. The Spartan jewelry box and the girl. You have until tonight at nine p.m. to bring both to me. Dear old granddad is running out of blood pressure medication.

In case there is any doubt, a photo is enclosed. A picture of my grandfather, his face bruised and bloodied, a newspaper held up next to him displaying today’s date. On the photo is written an address near Greenwich.

I curse. That means they were just here.

I shove a hand through my hair and run straight to my car. The newspaper was from London, which means they’re keeping him close. But now I’ve got a new problem on my hands. I need the Spartan jewelry box, whatever that is. What is it with criminals and jewelry boxes these days? I pull up a Google search and find it at the British Museum. Of course it is. Security there is such a hassle. It’s going to take hours for me to hack their system, but I’ve stolen from that museum before. I can do it again.