Page 46 of Taken As Collateral

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Rafe has no reaction. For a second, I think he might let it go, like he did with the lunch thing. But the next thing I know, he’s scooped me up and thrown me over his shoulder. He walks over to the pool and hops in.

Water rushes up my nose, fizzing and stinging. Ihatethat sensation, one of the reasons I don’t go out of my way to do a lot of swimming. I cough after coming to the surface, treading water since we’re in the deep end.

“You had your chance to do it the easy way,” Rafe reprimands.

I glare at him.

“Let’s see your back float.”

“Don’t feel like it,” I say as I paddle toward the pool’s edge.

He swims and places himself between me and the edge. He looks at me as if he’s seeing someone new. “You really want to do things the hard way today.”

“It’s not enough that you’re holding me hostage, you have to bully me, too?” I retort. Guess Iamgoing through stage-two anger after all.

“You’re lucky I’m not doing half the things I can do to you.”

I gulp. Fine. I’ll do his stupid back float. “Happy?” I ask after laying on my back for several seconds.

“Your form is much better,” he says. “You’re engaging your core.”

I return to treading water.

“Do it again. Longer this time,” he orders.

I decide not to fight him. I float on my back for longer.

“Good. One last time.”

I think about objecting but decide it would be a waste. I lay atop the water and feel it holding me up. I float for several minutes.

“Nice,” Rafe says.

I find myself feeling like a kid that just made her teacher proud. But why do I care about the approval of a gangster? I think I’m going to need to see a therapist when this is all over.

“Are we done?” I ask in a tone that suggests I wouldlikefor us to be done.

“Let’s see how long you can tread water.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“As the firstborn and only son, I’m used to getting my way.”

“You mean you were spoiled,” I interpret. “Did you have siblings?”

“No. I was born during China’s one-child policy.”

“What were you like as a kid, besides bossy and spoiled?”

“Overall, I was a good kid, the apple of my grandmother’s eye. A little mischievous in my earliest years. She once saved up to buy a set of pineapple cakes for our landlord. I ate them all before she could gift them to him.”

I can’t resist smiling, imagining a little boy with crumbs all over his face. “Was that the start of your life of crime? Stealing pineapple cakes?”

“No.”

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