Page 63 of Property of Max
“Right now, we’re assuming that Cortez doesn’t know Bree’s a Shadow,” Bones says. “Let’s use that to our advantage. Go in quietly…and deadly. This could be our only chance to take this fucker down.”
Spike breathes slowly, the decision on his face. “Foster, can you freeze any outbound calls or manifests tied to that property and the shipping company? Even for an hour?”
“I’ll create a phantom hold on the company,” he nods. “Nothing scheduled, but I’ll flag any truck that even tries to ping the system. As for the property, there aren’t any utilities on that I can find, but I can send you with a jammer. It will stop any outgoing and incoming calls.”
“Tank and Knuckles,” Spike says, nodding. “You’re on compound security. Two roadblocks. One north, one south. I don’t want Cortez or anyone else watching this place and waiting for a moment to strike. I want the girls and Asher down below.”
The men nod; Tank’s already on his phone.
“Skip?” Spike turns to him. “Keep the local chatter contained. Make sure the neighbors don’t freak and call a hundred cops. We need this quiet.”
“Got it.” Skip grins, too light for the room. “But I want my moment with little Chris.”
“You can’t kill him,” Spike warns. “Bones already beat him nearly to death. Death’s too easy for what he did to his own daughter.”
“He’ll have fun in prison,” Maverick says, a slow smile on his face. “Prisoners don’t take kindly to pedophiles. Even those who help them. I’ll have my man make sure everyone knows why Chris’s going away.”
Skip’s grin fades into a curious edge. “How many people do you have? Why do you have people? Who are you, man?”
Maverick only smiles and stays silent.
“Max, Bones, Maverick, and Foster…you four are with me,” Spike says. “We hit the property fast and quiet. Find Bree, clear anyone else, and get out. If Cortez is there…shoot to kill.”
“I can get drone footage over the house,” Foster says, closing his laptop. “Heat signatures should tell us how many people are inside.”
Maverick leans back, smirking. “I want one of those.”
“For what?” Skip shoots back. “To keep tabs on your mysterious crew? Seriously, man. What the hell do you do?”
Maverick’s grin sharpens. “They don’t call me the Outlaw because I play nice. I don’t follow rules. I make them.”
“Enough,” Spike cuts him off, irritation rough in his tone. His gaze shifts to me. “Max, how’s Lila?”
“She’s not good,” I admit, jaw tight. “Patch says her body’s been running on fumes for too long. The stress is pushing her past her limit, making her black out. If she keeps this up, she could fry her brain. As much as I hate leaving her in the dark, she needs to stay down below with Patch and the girls until we’reback. It’s the only way to keep her safe. Right now, Patch has her sedated, but he doesn’t want to administer a second dose.”
“Then saddle the fuck up,” Spike orders, standing. “We move now.”
Hold tight, baby girl. I’m coming.
***Bree***
Uncle Micah tells me scary stories all the time. He says they’re supposed to be scary, but they never really are. I like them. I think maybe he’s just not very good at making the scary parts scary.
But this…this is different.
The bad man left a long time ago, and now it’s just me in this room. At first I was brave. I tried to climb out the window, but it was too high.
Now it’s dark, and I don’t know where the light switch is. The door’s locked. I don’t hear any voices anymore. It’s so quiet, I think maybe everyone’s gone.
My legs are tired from sitting in one spot for a long time, but I don’t want to lay down. The ground is cold and smells funny, like old socks and dust. I hug my knees to my chest the way Mama taught me when I get scared. If I make myself small enough, maybe the shadows won’t see me.
I try humming one of the songs Mama sings when she brushes my hair. But my voice sounds too loud in the quiet, like even the walls are listening. I stop after a few words and bite my lip until it hurts.
What if nobody comes?
I tell myself stories the way Uncle Micah does. In my head, I make up a hero who kicks down the door and scares away all the bad guys. Sometimes the hero looks like Bones, with his big, scary face that never scared me. Sometimes he looks like Max, who makes me feel safe without even trying. Sometimes Mama,who loves me so much. I switch between them, because maybe they are all coming. Maybe.
The dark makes shapes on the walls, and I pretend they’re animals instead of monsters. One looks like a dog, but not like a friendly dog. This one has sharper teeth. Another looks like a bird with wings spread wide. I try to pretend it’s guarding me, not waiting to swoop down. My very own dragon.
