Hello Lovelies, Dom here (DOMinMatrix, Author of Can I Have Your Daughter and Can I Keep You).

Luv and I would like to officially welcome you to our collab: Don't Trust Me. We're extremely excited to share this story with you as it has been an absolute thrill to write.

If you like mystery, sarcasm, and sexy thrillers; you are in the right place. If you don't, well stick around. We may just surprise you. ;)

We're also thrilled to see so many people excited to read after just the first chapter!

Now that we've gotten the fun stuff out of the way, on to Disclaimers:

Fair warning for future reference, while this story is rated T, there are topics and chapters in the future that will be rated M. We will preface them with a warning. Some other things to keep in mind: some of the characters have been altered slightly to fit the new universe. Any depictions of or changes made to the characters, that are similar to those in real life are purely made for the sake of fiction and do not reflect our personal views of said individuals, groups, or organizations.

Remember: if you like the story, don't forget to drop a favorite or follow so you'll be alerted when we update. And leave a review letting us know what you think/ what your theories are! We love hearing from everyone!

Without further ado, on with the show!

Chapter 2

The police station was buzzing, not uncommon for this time of night, but there were certainly a few too many people hanging around just to see if we had managed to pull off our sting.

I hate office rubberneckers. They were the ones you were sure to keep your private life away from if you didn't want to be the talk of the department. That being said, this was a big case. And we had brought in a suspect. There was bound to be talk whether I liked it or not.

"Hear you caught a fish!" one of the other detectives called out as I hustled down the hall towards the interrogation rooms. I don't have time to acknowledge him. I have to question my suspect before he gets wise and lawyers up.

It's about half-way down the next hall that I find my destination, a closed door labeled "Interrogation Room 3", and take a breath. I don't even need to check the adjoining room to know that it is occupied by my team. All just as anxious as I was to close this case and nail it shut.

I open the door, peering in with an air of confidence. Interrogation 101: make the perp feel like you have all their dirty secrets before you even open your mouth.

The man looked up the moment I walk in and he shoots me quite a confident grin of his own - no matter. It wouldn't be there for long. I open the folder tucked in my hand, "Possession of several pounds of illegal substances, intent to sell, carrying of an unregistered illegal firearm, money laundering, and possession of counterfeit bills. We have enough evidence here to put you away for a long time." I say, lingering near the door, but eventually finding my way to sit in the chair in front of him. "Make a confession, and the D.A. may cut you some slack." I say like I'm doing him a favor.

There was a moment of contemplative silence before he hummed, watching me speculatively, before a grin found its way over his lips, "No, you don't."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't actually have anything on me. Otherwise I'd be in a cell and not Interrogation Room 3." The cocky bastard leaned back into his metal chair, hands resting lazily behind his head.

I force myself to take a deep, calming breath before responding to his over confident ass. Impulse control has always been a struggle. A dangerous thing to lack in my line of work. Thankfully a few years on the job and meditation on a daily basis help keep it under control.

Deep breathes…

"You were at the scene of the crime," I told him, twirling a pen in my hand to seem just as confident as him.

"Sure," he shrugged easily. "But so were you… and roughly two hundred other people."

I'm biting the inside of my cheek to keep from retorting. This guy was going to have a comeback for anything I said. But still… "Those two hundred other people weren't caught in compromising positions."

"Just trying to find the bathroom."

"In the employee's only area? With a gun?"

He stared at me, unblinking before replying, "it was really dark in there. You can't honestly tell me you've never took a wrong turn in the dark? And I wasn't actually in possession of a gun. It was on the table."

His responses are quick and precise. As if he's done this a hundred times before. He masterfully dodges anything I say, not letting me pin a single thing down on him despite finding him amongst the drugs and money. It's hard to believe this is the same man that approached me at the bar before everything went to shit.

"You shouldn't scowl so much, Princess. Ruins that pretty face of yours."

I bristle, my eyes narrowing dangerously. "Princess?"

His lips quirk, "sure. Why not? Princess seems like a good name for ya."

"I am not a princess."

He propped an elbow on the table, emerald eyes dancing with the mirth he displayed earlier in the night. His chin settled in his open palm and he smiled. "Coulda fooled me."

The blonde is trying to get under my skin, I know he is. Yet, I can't help taking the bait, "and what's that suppose to mean?"

"You looked so out of place at the club."

I pursed my lips. The question I had for him when we first met rising to the tip of my tongue. "You knew I was a cop?"

I internally cringe. What is wrong with me? Why would I ask him that? I sound ridiculous!

"Didn't say that," he leans back in his chair. "Just said you looked outta place. Though," that crooked grin appears on his face. "Kinda obvious you are one now."

I can feel my cheeks heating. Quickly I glance down at the forgotten file I had brought in with me. I hold it up at an angle so he couldn't see that the files inside were fewer than I let on. Only a couple of documents from the scene and the poster I had linked to him. "It says here that you've assaulted three officers. They remain in critical condition."

"Is that so?" He asked, unconvinced, eying the folder, "Do I really look like I could do something like that?" He quirks a brow and gestures at his stature.

He's short. Shorter than me even, with boyish features. If I hadn't seen him out at the club I may have thought him merely a teen. But I knew better than anyone how deceiving looks could be. I reevaluate the piece of paper. The descriptions and even the picture are wrong. Despite that I can see the similarities between them. I bite my bottom lip.

Something seems wrong with this.

I glance at him over the top of the folder. He's looking around the room, not at all bothered by being here. He knows something, the thought nags at the back of my head. And he's confident enough that what he knows will get him out of here. I close the folder and set it back on the table. My hands fold over the top of it as I decide how to reply.

"I don't necessarily believe that looks are a good judge of what someone is capable of."

"Fallen victim to a few hasty judgements yourself, huh Princess?"

He's right. This line of work doesn't favor the young and beautiful. I lost track of how many times I've been written off because of my age and large bust. They put me behind a desk for two years, before I was given a chance to get out to the field. This was the first case I was in charge of and I wanted, no, needed it to go right. Otherwise they may just stick me behind that damned desk again - forever the poster girl of gender and age diversity in the department.

The thought strengthens my resolve. I can do this.

"We aren't discussing me here, Sir," I respond with mock politeness.

My tone doesn't seem to bother him as a large smile spreads across his face. "Aren't we though, Princess?"

I'm torn between the urge to slap him for the stupid nickname and falling for his charm. His smile is, admittedly, pleasant to look at. Those emerald eyes, so expressive with his glee. It boggles me how he can be so at ease in an interegation. Not even completely innocent people get out of this without breaking a sweat.

"Look," I level with him, shaking my head to get my fascination with him out of my mind and back onto the job. "We found you at the scene - that in itself is enough to hold you, so, you aren't getting out of this without giving us something."

"I could give you my number?"

My patience was wearing thin. I was tired of playing this game with him. And it was just that - a game. It was time to throw out my trump card. "Alright, I was trying to be nice, but you're impeding on my investigation. And I don't know if you realize this, but that's a felony, and I can lock you up for obstruction of justice."

His brows raised, but the grin never left, "Wow… those are some really impressive words." He breathed, mulling over my threat, "Alright, since you twisted my arm." He sat up, folding his fingers on the table - finally a seriousness falling over his features as he regarded me. I too lean closer, thankful that this little dance was over.

"I didn't do it." And just like that, his grin was back.

My nose and lip began to twitch as I restrained a growl. I wanted so bad to grab him by the tie he wore loosely around his neck and strangle him. Luckily for him, his saving grace came in the form of a quick knock on the two way glass.

I picked up my folder, sparing no glance towards him as I fumed my way out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

"What the hell are you doing in there?" Veronica threw her arms up as I entered the observation room, motioning to the window as if I needed another reminder of how badly this was going. "Don't wait till he lawyers up. Charge the bastard and let's get this done!"

I frown, knowing that at least one thing the blonde man said was true. We have nothing to hold him. Anything we do have is circumstantial at best.

Howzer was standing cross-armed in front of the window watching our suspect intently, "Do you really think this is the same guy who took out the cops in the hospital?"

Veronica groaned, "That doesn't matter!"

"It does matter." I said, shooting her a disapproving look, "But to be honest…" I joined Howzer at the window. The man inside rocked back on the hind chair legs, confident and cool as ever. "I just don't know. I think he's involved, but to what extent, I'm not sure."

"What are you sure of?"

Howzer and I spun around, completely at attention as soon as the chief's voice washed over us. The head of the department stood in the doorway, his outward expression said that he wasn't in the mood for failure. "Sir!"

I felt my heart jump into my throat, "Well sir, he's-"

"We can do more than place him at the scene! This cocky asshole is good for it." Veronica interrupted me, and I was starting to get a little more than annoyed with her. Why was she so damned determined to see someone charged? Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?

"The evidence we have is circumstantial, Veronica. The defense would have a field day."

Chief Bartra gave me a long look, "So we have nothing?"

"No sir. On the contrary, I believe I can get the evidence needed to close this case. This man," I turned back to the window, and I shouldn't have been surprised to see the blonde was smiling at the mirror as if he could see right past it to me, "I am positive that this man is responsible for putting three of our own into critical condition. I also think he knows more about what's going on than he's telling me."

"Why are we not charging him with that?"

"The evidence isn't there to-"

"So, nothing." The chief groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate his growing headache.

"Sir please!" I raised my voice and even I could hear the desperation there. "I can get the evidence. Just give me a chance."

The older man watched me, gauging me, before finally asking, "Would you stake your career on it?"

My mouth fell open. My dreams of becoming a cop, of making the city a better place, all of it was suddenly on the line. And why wouldn't it be? The Chief of police was a man who didn't humor failure. He ran a tight ship. And worse of all… he was my father. It was no secret that he didn't want me on the force. Call it misguided over-protection, or just down-right discouragement, but he would do anything to see that I was sent packing.

Not today.

I closed my mouth, feeling a sense of courage surging up through me as I squared off to the old man, "Yes." I replied, feeling the resolution echoing in my response, "Yes I would."

I'm not sure my answer satisfied him, but he relented, "Fine. If it can be done, do it." He said dismissively, on his way out the door, but before he could leave, he leaned back - meeting my gaze seriously, "You have a month, Elizabeth. If you can't get the evidence you need to close this case in one month, then I want your badge and gun on my desk. Do I make myself clear?"

One month?! It took nearly three months to set up the sting from last night! "Yes, sir." I affirm, keeping my fretting inward. He narrows his eyes on me again and then he was gone.

"What the hell just happened?" Howzer asked, sounded just as befuddled as I felt. I didn't know how to respond. I had just wagered my job for this case and I had thirty days to close it. Nothing else was said as I left the observation room.

I took a long breath as I stood outside of the interrogation room door, feeling less confident than the first time I had entered. It was a different game this time, with so much more on the line than before.

Finally, I steeled my nerves and opened the door. I was greeted once again with that charming smile, but this time it didn't fill me with the conflicting feelings it had before. This man was my only hope for keeping my job.

I took my place in the seat across from him, eyeing him for a long moment. I had one chance. I had to be sure about this… no I was sure about this. Finally - without a word, I open the folder, pulling the wanted poster with the poor representation of him out and turned it so that he could see.

"Don't talk. Just… just listen."

The blonde's mouth closed loudly to emphasise his cooperation, and I took that as my cue to continue. I placed a finger on the poster, tapping it as I spoke as if to drive my point harder, "I know this is you. But I don't care about that right now." I watch him, searching his face for any crack in his facade, only to find there was none.

"I have a feeling you are involved with all of this somehow. You let us catch you - for only god knows what reason. But despite that, I believe you. I believe that you didn't do it - whatever it is."

"Why?" His question was unexpected, and I found myself asking the same question internally. Why did I believe him? Because he was charming? Because he knew how to avoid incriminating himself?

"Because…" I trail off. What could I possibly say that wouldn't sound like I… was desperate? I'm sure Veronica and Howzer are still watching behind the glass and even if they weren't, all interrogations are recorded.

"You haven't lied to me," I settle with saying. Once the words leave my lips I know them to be true. Maybe he hasn't answered over half of my questions, but the one he did. He told the truth. I can feel it.

His green eyes study me silently. "You sure about that?"

"I am," I nod. "Now that kind of trust should go both ways."

"Trust?" His lips quirk. "I'm in an interrogation room. I don't think there's much trust between us right now."

I smile and his own drops, seemingly caught off guard. "Yes, but it isn't a pointed that out so helpfully. The difference between when I first brought you in and now is that I can, at the very least, hold you for what we do have on you."

"It wouldn't be for long," he lounges back in his chair, undisturbed by my small threat. But for the first time I could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Maybe not, but I'm sure you'd have things you'd rather be doing than sitting in a jail cell for an undisclosed amount of time."

He mulls it over for a minute before replying, "and what, exactly, do you think I can help you with?"

I fight back my eagerness. That simple question is probably the most headway I've made with him so far. "Like I said, I know you're involved. I just wanna know the specifics."

"Specifics huh?" He hums, a finger tapping against his chin thoughtfully. "And what are you going to do with these… specifics?"

"Depends on what you give me."

"Well," that damn crooked grin comes back full force. "I did offer you my number earlier."

I grit my teeth. So much for that headway.

He chuckles at my stern expression. "Tell you what, Princess. I'll help you out."

"Really?" My jaw practically unhinges. All this back and forth is starting to make my head spin.

He holds up a finger to stop me before I can say anything else. "I have a few conditions of course."

I try not to scowl. "...and they are?"

The blonde grins widely. "First off, as much as I like calling you Princess, how about a real name?"

"My name?" It seems too simple, but at the same time… A name could be dangerous. I was going to use his to try and track him down just a few hours ago.

"We're going to be working together for a while," he clarifies, watching me, passing his motivation to me through his gaze. He had no intention of telling me what I wanted to know now… I'd have to work for it. "Unless you want me to keep calling you Princess?"

My nose scrunches up, "No."

"It's Princess or your name," He shrugs.

"Well, what about yours?" I counter childishly.

His eyes light up. Obviously enjoying the game - a game I was now bing forced to play. "Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

"Show?"

"Tell, sorry," he chuckles lightly. It's a nice laugh. "I meant tell."

I don't think he meant tell at all…

Whatever this guy had planned… I was in it for the long-haul. He'd regret challenging me. "Elizabeth," I say pointedly.

"Elizabeth," he tests my name out, rolling it around on his tongue like a fine wine. Or maybe he was trying to figure out if I had given him a fake name. Either way, he nods, satisfied with my answer.

I fight back the urge to fidget. Long-haul. I can't become impatient when the game just started. However, I can't help but ask, "Well?"

"Meliodas," he replies with a crooked grin. "Maybe you've heard of me?"