“What?” Ryden blinked innocently, but no one was buying it. With a chuckle, Ryden got up and walked toward the desk. “It ain’t even real.”
Jay stopped struggling against Mason. “What?”
“It ain’t real, sweetheart. It’s a fake Halloween spider.” Ryden reached into the desk drawer and pulled out something furry and black. He held the spider up by one leg as it moved. “Battery powered.”
When Jay was in Red’s office, Ryden must have put it in his drawer. He clicked a button, and the spider stopped moving. Then the bastard threw it at him. Jay squeaked and jumped behind Mason. The toy spider bounced off Mason and hit the floor, landing on its back. Ryden pressed the button so its legsstarted moving again. Jay was not taking any chances. Ryden laughed on his way back to his desk.
“Laugh it up, Marine,” Jay said, giving the mechanical arachnid a wide berth as he marched to pick up his chair and drag it back to his desk. He grabbed his wallet and headed for the elevator. “I’m going to lunch! I’ll bring you back some crayons to snack on!”
“Oh, shit!” Joker barked out a loud laugh, Lucky and Ace joining him.
The elevator doors pinged and slid open. Jay stepped inside, and when the doors closed, he smiled because he didn’t need to plot revenge for the spider. Ryden was working at a wealthy child’s birthday party this afternoon, one with video surveillance.
Knowing Ryden the way Jay did, this was going to be fun.
CHAPTER THREE
“This is my life now,”Ryden muttered as a twelve-year-old in a cowboy hat and dinosaur gloves streaked by, wielding a Nerf blaster in each hand. The kid released a war cry that could have shattered glass—or Ryden’s hearing. The array of foam-firing assault weapons at this children’s party was concerning. Another Nerf bullet hit him in the ass. “Ten,” he counted.
How had this happened? What could he possibly have done to deserve this fate? Okay, so maybe he’d done plenty in his lifetime to get him here, but in this instance, the blame lay solely with a certain annoying, pouty-lipped pain in his ass. Ryden should have known better. This was what happened when you pissed off Jay.
“Professional my ass,” he muttered under his breath.
Ryden worked for Red in Risk Assessment, but they were occasionally called in as backup for certain events. Children’s birthday parties were not those events. Why? Because children were often unpredictable, unreasonable, and loud. So loud. Then you stuck a bunch of them together, gave them toys and mountains of sugar, and what did you get? Chaos. Short chaos that could outsmart, outmaneuver, and outrun him.
Unfortunately, since King was still away on his honeymoon, this event fell to Red. And thanks to Jay, now Ryden as well. The family’s mansion had a huge yard facing the ocean, where the party was being held. At least it was surrounded by an eight-foot-tall fence with equally high hedges so none of the kids could Houdini their way out. That and the dozen security agents in cowboy hats posted around the yard, keeping surveillance. It was pretty hilarious. The father seemed to think sticking cowboy hats on the security guys dressed in black would help them blend in. They did not.
Ryden’s earpiece buzzed to life, and he braced himself.
“Status?” Was that amusement Ryden detected in Red’s tone? Then again, it was easy to be amused when you got to observe the mayhem from the safety of your makeshift command center inside the mansion. Bastard.
Ryden sighed as he took in the whirlwind of activity around him. Where did he even start? “I’m surrounded by screamin’ kids armed with foam weapons usin’ me for target practice, a DJ playin’ a country remix of theJurassic Parkmovie score, and a robot Stegosaurus named ‘Susan’ who just tried to impale the snack table. That’s my status.” He sighed again. Rich people.
There wasn’t a doubt in Ryden’s mind that Red and whoever was with him observing from their child-free base of operations were laughing their asses off. It didn’t matter that the kids had been warned to leave the security personnel alone, as if a spoiled twelve-year-old boy armed with a double-barrel Nerf gun who’d just eaten a chocolate dinosaur egg the size of his head gave two shits. For some reason, Ryden ended up the target more than anyone. They probably sensed his aversion to them.
“Copy that,” Red replied gruffly. He’d so been laughing. “Keep your eyes on Susan. You lose her and we’re liable.”
“King would love that,” Ryden muttered. “Do we have a code for that? Lost robot dinosaur?” Susan hit the side of one of thetables. “Hope we’re not liable for the fruit because we just lost a melon Triceratops.”
“Code Rex on the Run,” Saint called out through their earpiece. “I repeat, Code Rex on the Run!”
Ryden threw his arms up. “The fuck are you talkin’ about? Y’all are just makin’ shit up now.”
“On your six,” Saint hissed. “The T-Rex is on the run!”
Ryden spun around just as a nine-foot inflatable T-Rex sped across the yard on a Segway. What the hell? What kind of partywasthis?
Unlike Susan, this dinosaur was not a robot. It had a human inside. Kevin. Not far behind Kevin, a small army of children driving Power Wheel Veloceraptors andJurassic ParkJeeps chased him, waving Nerf guns. Why would you give motorized vehicles to kids high on sugar and wielding foam weapons?
“Um, what’s happening right now?” Red asked through their earpieces. “Why are they chasing Kevin?”
“Fuck’s sake.” Ryden took off to join the chase. “Damn fool is makin’ off with the parent gift bags!” Because no kid’s birthday party was complete without adult swag bags worth a hundred grand each. The parents were too busy gossiping and drinking expensive wine or liquor to notice anything happening around them. One guy didn’t even pretend to care as he watched the madness from behind his designer sunglasses.Thanks for nothing, pal.
Red cursed under his breath. “Stop him. And for the love of everything, don’t let him run into the piñata line again. Almost strangled himself the first time.”
“Where’d they find this guy?” Ryden asked, dodging a flying rubber Pterodactyl. Oh great. Now he had aerial assaults to look forward to.
“He’s friends with Bertram’s older son,” Saint replied.
