Page 81 of Spies Like Us

“Really? Well, that is a surprise.” James’s eyes are narrowed on his wife, and his tone has a suspicious lilt to it.

“Aren’t you excited for her, Miller?” Martha is looking at me with a quizzical tilt to her head, but her eyes are cold.

I force a grunt. “Yeah, sure, whatever. It just means I’m going to have to work harder tonight. I better go.” I grab my jacket off the hook and leave, waving a hand so I don’t seem completely rude. I get about twenty yards away from the house and turn back to look, and I see Martha there, watching from the front room. I keep walking until she can’t see me anymore, then I cut through the bushes, running at full speed in the direction I know our bike is. Anders isn’t actually picking me up for another hour, and this news can’t wait, nor do I want to tell them over the phone that the plan has been executed.

I tear off the tarp and toss the spare helmet to the side. Thankfully Mac left the keys in the ignition, so I throw my leg over it and crank it to life. It roars loudly before settling down to a gentle idle. I don’t fuck around. I put the helmet on and engage the gear, throttling hard. The tires spin on the gravel, kicking a whole heap up behind me. I’m careful on the dirt road, but the minute I hit the asphalt, I open up the throttle, speeding as fast as I can for the governor’s mansion where the guys should be. My heart pounds, and my mind whirls as I run through all the possible scenarios. Logically, I know this is what we wanted, and Mac is a talented and skilled agent, but emotionally, that girl was in my bed and is working her way into my heart, and these feelings have me in a panic. It’s residual trauma from my childhood, but it still manages to creep up on me at inopportune times.

I don’t pay any attention to the change of speed limit as I get into the more built-up areas. My urgency is far more important than possibly being stopped by the police. I bring the bike to an abrupt halt around the back of the mansion, putting the kickstand down as I remove my helmet and run up the back path to the rear door.

Ry is there, holding it open with a look of concern on his face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks as I push past him and find everyone but Max chilling in the kitchen, remnants of dinner still on the table.

“Hey, you’re early. Did you get sick of waiting?” Anders jokes as he washes some dishes.

“Where’s Mac?” Lathan looks beyond me, frowning, but only Ry appears behind me.

“She’s gone,” I announce, and they all stop what they are doing.

“Gone? What do you mean, gone?” Dayton asks quietly, and I run a hand through my hair, pushing it back off my face.

“Martha returned without her.”

Lathan jumps into action, leaving the kitchen to grab his laptop, as the other three curse up a storm.

“Get Max on the phone,” Dayton instructs a pale Ry. He nods and pulls his phone out of his pocket, quickly dialing his brother and putting him on speaker.

Max answers, and we hear a lot of background sounds. “Ry, I’ll be home in a few hours. This couldn’t wait?”

“Mac’s gone,” Ry tells him flatly.

“What do you mean, she’s gone? I saw her to the plane myself,” Max growls, and we hear him move somewhere quieter.

“Martha came home without her,” I reply as Lathan returns, flipping open the computer and bringing up the auction page. Instead of a still photo, like there is of all the other auction items, there is a live video of Mac. We can see her pacing back and forth across her cell. I lean in and point to her face where there’s a trail of blood down one side. “She’s injured.”

“But we know where she is, so that’s a start,” Anders says calmly.

“What did Martha say exactly?” Dayton asks me.

“She told us that Mac called her and explained she had been offered early admission and decided to not waste time and take it. She said Mac asked for her belongings to be sent and that we should be happy for her.”

“So do we think someone impersonating Mac called and told her this, or do we think Martha is involved?” Ry asks, pacing back and forth across the kitchen, chewing on one of his nails. When he passes me again, I grab him, pull his finger from his mouth, and wrap my arms around him. I need the comfort as much as he does.

“My gut tells me she’s involved, but I don’t think James is. He seemed as surprised as the rest of us.”

“Okay, well, let’s not panic, this is what we hoped would happen. Mac is where she needs to be. We have agents bidding on all the lots. Percy let me know when I had a meeting with him before Dad’s party. It’s easier for us to control the whole deal if we are the buyers—not that they know that. They are all being bid for with bulletproof aliases. Is Mac’s tracker online, Lathan?” Max asks, and Lathan nods.

“Yes, it’s showing her in the cells at the moment.”

“Good, so we just wait until bidding finishes tomorrow and they make their move. Go about your day like nothing is wrong. We don’t want to make anyone suspicious when we are this close.” Max looks at me when he says that.

“Oh fuck,” Lathan mutters and looks up at me. “Mac is being sold as a two for one deal. There is a video of the two of you in the cage from Friday night. You are part of the deal.”

“Good.” I feel a rush of relief. “At least we’ll be together. The two of us will be fine.”

“So that means they need to get their hands on him sometime soon,” Anders points out. “It will probably happen tonight.”

“The last spot is filled too, but the cells still don’t have the right number, so I guess they will get another delivery tonight.”

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