Page 83 of Spies Like Us

“What the hell is going on?” Ry explodes. “Are they not moving the teens tonight?”

Max rakes a hand through his hair. “I have no idea, but you four will be okay without me. I need to stay on their good side just in case. You have all the backup you need. They are on high alert tonight.”

“I don’t like this,” Dayton says, “but we can’t do anything about it now. Keep us updated, and we’ll do the same for you.”

MAX

It’s late when I arrive at Ted Standish’s place. When I pull into the driveway, there are a couple of cars as well as a big removal truck. I snap a photo of it and send it to the guys. “Be ready,” I tell them.

Putting my phone in my pocket, I press the doorbell. Stella answers and beams at me. “Max, honey, come in,” she calls, and I frown.

“Oh, hi. I thought I was playing poker with your dad tonight,” I say, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She tries to turn her head, but I’m ready for it and shift my trajectory, so it stays on her cheek.

“Yes, you are. Mom, Aunt Martha, and I were just heading out,” she tells me, showing me into a room off the side of the hall. It’s like a men’s drawing room, and there’s a large poker table with Brock, Ted, James, Chief Thompson, and Father Sweeny sitting around it.

“Ah, Max, good of you to join us. Grab a seat.” Ted waves me over, and I take the last remaining seat. Matthew isn’t here, and neither is Isaac Palmer.

“Thanks for the invite, Ted.” I shake hands with him before taking a seat. Stella skips over and kisses me.

“We’re off, Daddy. Have fun, and don’t lose too much money. You know how Mommy gets mad.” Stella is slightly manic this evening, and I feel a ball of worry build in my chest. She leans around me, and this time, I can’t dodge the kiss she presses to my lips. She tries to slip her tongue in, but I hold my lips firm. She pulls back and frowns.

“Soon you won’t be able to think of anyone but me,” she murmurs, stroking a hand down my chest and brushing her hand over my cock. “Remember, my daddy knows all about your dirty proclivities. You might want to keep me happy if you don’t want those getting to the press. Imagine if they knew Governor Turner’s son was into schoolgirls. If you want a schoolgirl that badly, I have a costume I can wear, and I can be a very bad little schoolgirl. Forget about that whore. She’s never coming back.”

She pulls away, and I see the manic glint in her eye. “Bye, have fun.” She waves and hurries out of the room.

Brock huffs out a sigh of relief. “Fuck, your daughter is crazier than a sack full of cats.”

Ted gets up and goes over to the window and peers out. “Let’s wait five minutes, and then they will be gone,” he tells the rest of us, and I feel confused. Everyone else discards the hand they were holding and moves out of the den, farther into the house.

“Come on, Turner. You can help us, and we’ll be done quicker. This is what it means to be a part of this town.” Father Sweeny gestures for me to follow them.

We arrive at an elevator. “This leads to the basement. We have something we need to break up and load into that truck, which then needs to be taken to the shipping yard, okay?” Chief Thompson explains.

“We have a very small window to get it done in, because the ship needs to pull out at exactly midnight,” Ted tells me.

“Help us, and we’ll cut you in, or my niece’s threats will seem like child’s play,” James tells me threateningly.

“Yeah, sure. It’s fine, okay? I’ll help. No need for threats. What are we moving?” I ask as the door opens and all of us squeeze in. The doors close, and I feel it move, taking us down. When the door opens, we all step out. The basement is filled with huge vases, or maybe pots for the garden. Anyway, they are definitely big enough to hide a person in. My heart races, and I feel my adrenaline kick in as I look at how many there are—ten, one for each human. This is it.

“How are we going to move them?” I ask. “They look heavy.”

Ted disappears behind them and reappears with a dolly in each hand. “Work together and be careful. We can’t break them. My buyers would be really upset, and they are not people you want to anger.”

I’m confused. I didn’t think the bidding finished for another twenty minutes or so, but I guess he knows the kind of people he’s dealing with and wants to be prepared. We all work together without much talking, but there is a lot of grunting and groaning. None of them are particularly fit or athletic, and they really are heavy, but eventually, we get them into the truck.

“Alright, James and I will ride up front, and you guys sit back here and make sure none of those vases tip over,” Ted orders before closing the truck doors, plunging us into darkness.

“Ugh, I hate riding in the back. I get nauseous,” Brock grumbles, and a light switches on. Chief Thompson has his phone in his hand, and the three of them settle against the side walls, sliding down and getting comfortable.

“Aren’t we supposed to hold them?” I ask, and Father Sweeny scoffs,

“They never move. Ted and James are overly cautious.”

Shrugging, I join them and pull out my own phone. I look over, but nobody is paying attention, so I snap a quick shot of the pots and send it to Dayton. I tell him we’re on the move, and in a moment, I get a confused face emoji.

Dayton

Lathan says Mac hasn’t moved. Where are you going?

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