23. Tyson

23

TYSON

T he stench of blood still clings to my nostrils, even after changing. My phone sits silent on the desk, mocking me with its blank screen. No messages from Sofia.

“Fuck!” I slam my fist into the wall. The pain grounds me, but barely.

How did Paulie find out? The question circles my mind like a vulture. Sofia wouldn’t have told him. Would she? No. She hates that abusive piece of shit as much as I do.

I grab my phone again and type another message:

Baby girl, please. Just let me know you’re safe.

Nothing.

I’m hunched over my desk, staring at spreadsheets that might as well be written in Sanskrit, when Phoenix raps on my door.

“Come in. ”

He slips inside, laptop tucked under his arm. Dark circles shadow his eyes, suggesting he’s been up all night working.

“Got some intel about Sofia’s place,” Phoenix says, setting up his equipment. “Finally cracked back into her iMac.”

My head snaps up. “And?”

“She had it wiped clean. Took me hours to get back in.” He runs a hand through his messy hair. “But that’s not all. The computer’s facing the wall now.”

My jaw clenches. She must have moved it after I told her about watching her. Admitting that was a stupid mistake.

“Any activity?” I grip the edge of my desk.

Phoenix shakes his head. “No login attempts, no keyboard clicks. I’ve also been monitoring the house through the mic—complete silence.”

Ice floods my veins. “How long?”

“Two days now.”

“Fuck.” I push away from my desk, pacing the small space. Two days of silence. Two days since Jimmy found out about us. Two days since Paulie’s men left here in body bags.

My fingers itch to call her again, but I know her phone will ring endlessly into the void. Jimmy must have her locked away somewhere. I can feel it in my gut.

I run my hand over my jaw, stubble scratching my palm. “What about other devices? Her iMac must be linked to something else.”

Phoenix sits at my desk, his fingers dancing across his tablet screen. “She’s got quite the digital footprint: three iPhones, Two iPads, a MacBook Pro, even an older iMac.” He squints at the screen. The problem is I can’t tell which ones are still active. Some might be sitting in a drawer somewhere.”

“Try them all.” I lean over his shoulder, scanning the list of devices. “Every single one. I need to know she’s okay.”

“I’m already on it. Phoenix’s typing speeds up. “But breaking Apple’s encryption isn’t exactly quick. It will likely take hours.”

“I don’t care how long it takes.” My voice comes out rougher than intended. “Just find her.”

Phoenix nods, not looking up from his screen. “I’ll start with her most recently active devices first. The iPhone’s probably our best bet, assuming Jimmy hasn’t confiscated it.”

“And if he has?”

“Then we move down the list until something hits.” He pulls up another window filled with code. “Even old devices might give us a breadcrumb trail. Social media logins, cloud backups, location history—anything that could point us to where Jimmy’s keeping her.”

I grip the back of the chair, watching strings of numbers and letters flash across the screen. Each second feels like an eternity, knowing Sofia could be anywhere, trapped and alone.

I pace behind Phoenix like a caged animal, my breath hot on his neck as I watch him work. Every keystroke seems to take an eternity.

“Boss, if you don’t back off, I’m taking this back to my trailer,” Phoenix mutters, his fingers flying across the screen. “Can’t concentrate with you breathing down my neck.”

“Just work faster.” I grip the back of his chair, knuckles white.

A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. “Never seen you this worked up over a girl before. The mighty Tyson, brought low by a redhead.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Heat rises in my chest. “This isn’t funny.”

“Reminds me of when I first spotted Tilly.” Phoenix’s typing slows, his voice taking on a distant quality. “Couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Just had to know everything about her. Had to have her.”

“I said shut up.” I slam my hand on the desk, making him jump. “This isn’t the same thing.”

“No?” Phoenix raises an eyebrow, finally looking up at me. “You’re stalking her through cameras, obsessing over her every move, ready to tear apart anyone who gets between you. Sound familiar?”

The truth in his words stings. “Focus on finding her.”

“Just saying, I recognize that look in your eyes.” Phoenix turns back to his screen. “It’s the same one I see in the mirror every morning.”

I slam my palms against my desk, rage boiling through my veins at Phoenix’s words. His smugness about keeping Tilly locked away in his trailer sets my teeth on edge. This obsession with Sofia - it’s different. It has to be.

“And I’ve had Tilly for over a month now. Nothing can tame it.” Phoenix’s voice drips with satisfaction. “ Even when she’s yours, you’ll still be driven mad by it.”

“I need some fucking air,” I growl, pushing away from the desk. The metal legs screech against the floor as I storm toward the door.

Phoenix’s amused chuckles follow me out of the trailer, making my hands clench into fists. The sound echoes in my ears as I march across the carnival grounds, past the silent rides and empty food stalls.

I slump against the side of my trailer, lighting a cigarette with trembling hands despite quitting two years ago. I’m too stressed right now, but the nicotine does nothing to calm my racing thoughts.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never lost control like this over a woman. I’ve had my share of conquests—carnival groupies and local girls looking for a thrill. One night, maybe two, if they were particularly skilled. But never this... this constant ache.

Sofia’s got under my skin in ways I can’t explain. Her curves, her sass, the way she challenges me instead of just falling at my feet like the others. Even now, I can feel the phantom touch of her soft skin against mine, taste the sweetness of her lips.

“Fuck.” I take another long drag, watching the smoke curl into the night air.

The smart move would be to let her go. Cut ties and focus on business. Jimmy Moretti’s wrath isn’t something to take lightly, and I’ve got the whole carnival operation to consider. My crew depends on me to keep things running smoothly.

But the thought of never seeing her again, never holding her, tears at something deep in my chest—something I didn’t even know existed until she walked into my life.

Phoenix is right. I’m acting just like him with Tilly. Obsessed. Unhinged. The kind of man I swore I’d never become. Love makes you weak, makes you vulnerable. I learned that lesson watching my old man destroy himself over my mother.

I take another drag of my cigarette, memories of my old man flooding back. That pathetic shell of a man drowning himself in whiskey after my mother left. I was twelve when she packed her bags, leaving nothing but her wedding ring on the kitchen counter.

“She’ll come back,” he’d slur, night after night. “Your mother loves us. She’s just... confused.”

Bullshit. Mom wasn’t confused. She was tired of his weakness, his desperate need for her. I watched him waste away, calling her number until it was disconnected, driving past her sister’s house, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

He put his fist through the wall the day we got the news she’d remarried. I still remember the blood dripping from his knuckles as he sobbed on the kitchen floor. That was the moment I swore I’d never let a woman have that kind of power over me.

“Love is a fucking poison, son,” he told me that night, his eyes glazed from the bourbon. “It gets in your blood, makes you forget who you are. Makes you weak.”

He was right about one thing—it is a poison. I can feel it coursing through my veins whenever I think about Sofia. But he was wrong about the weakness part. This thing with Sofia... it’s not making me weak. It’s making me dangerous. Making me willing to burn everything down just to keep her.

My old man died alone in that house, still wearing his wedding ring, still keeping her picture on his nightstand. The doctors called it liver failure, but I know what really killed him. He let love destroy him, let it eat away at his soul until there was nothing left.

Yet here I am, ready to risk everything, my business, my freedom, maybe even my life—just to keep Sofia safe. To make her mine.

I crush the cigarette under my boot, disgust rising in my throat. When did I become this pathetic? This desperate?

The night offers no answers, just the distant sound of carnival music and my tortured thoughts.