31. Tyson

31

TYSON

I pace Phoenix’s trailer, scanning his latest security report. The mounting pressure from Jimmy shows in every line. Three more suppliers canceled contracts this morning alone.

“He’s getting creative,” Phoenix mutters from behind his wall of screens. “Had to fight off another breach attempt last night. These hackers he hired are good.”

I rub my temples. “How’s our digital fortress holding up?”

Tilly clears her throat. “So far, we’re secure, but they’re probing constantly. One slip from me and Phoenix, and they could get in.”

A crash outside draws my attention. I see one of our newly installed lighting rigs lying in pieces through the window—the fourth “accident” this week.

“Another coincidence, I’m sure,” I growl.

Lars bursts in, waving a stack of citations. “Health inspector’s back. Says our food storage temperatures are off by half a degree. Threatening to shut us down.”

“Jimmy’s flexing,” I say. “Want to show us he can make life difficult without breaking our agreement.”

“The suppliers are killing us, though,” Lars continues. “Can’t feed crowds without food vendors. He’s trying to strangle us slowly.”

I nod. “Keep working alternate supply chains. And Phoenix—double the security protocols. No chances.”

“Already on it. But boss, this is getting expensive. All these workarounds, new security, repairs...”

“I know.” I stare at the shattered light fixture. Jimmy’s playing a smart game. Death by a thousand cuts rather than open warfare. But I won’t let him win. Not when Sofia’s finally free.

A message flashes on Phoenix’s screen—another attempted breach. “Tilly, they’re trying again. Help me fight it.” His fingers fly across the keyboard, reinforcing our digital walls. While Tilly helps him. Without Tilly, I’m not sure Phoenix could have held up the cyber security alone.

The carnival has survived worse. We’ll weather this storm, too, no matter what Jimmy throws at us. I just have to stay one step ahead.

I lean against my desk, the weight of Jimmy’s constant attacks bearing down on me.

“We can’t keep playing defense,” Lars says, pacing the trailer. “Every time we patch one hole, he finds another. We need to hit back, show him we’re not just going to roll over.”

I’m about to respond when Phoenix clears his throat, his eyes fixed on one of his monitors. “We’ve got a problem.” He swivels his chair to face us. “I’ve been monitoring Jimmy’s communications. He’s told the cops about our operation. There’s a drug bust planned for tonight.”

“Fuck.” I slam my fist on the desk. All these little attacks were a distraction, keeping us scrambling while he set up the real blow.

Lars waves his hand. “So they know. Big deal. We’ll clear everything out before they arrive.

“Yes, move the product to the backup location.”

“Already messaging the crew,” Phoenix says, fingers dancing across his keyboard. “Nash and Colt can handle the transfer. We’ll be clean by midday.”

I nod, but something doesn’t sit right. Jimmy wouldn’t play this card unless he was certain it would work. He’s too smart for a simple drug bust that we could dodge.

“Have someone sweep every inch of storage,” I tell Lars. “Check for planted evidence. Jimmy might try to leave us a surprise.”

Lars pulls out his phone and starts texting. “I’ll get Gage on it. We’ll make sure there’s nothing for the cops to find.”

I snatch my jacket, making my way to the door. “I’ll help Gage sweep storage. Four eyes are better than two.”

Lars raises an eyebrow. “You sure? Usually, you delegate the grunt work.”

“We can’t risk missing anything. There’s too much at stake.”

I stride across the carnival grounds, nodding at Duke as he tinkers with the Ferris wheel controls. The old-timer’s been with the carnival before me, and he still thinks we’re just a traveling show bringing joy to small towns. It’s better that way.

Performers practice their routines nearby—jugglers tossing pins in perfect arcs. They’re all good people, honest workers who’d be horrified to learn what really keeps this carnival running. Only Colt and Nash know the truth among the performers.

I spot Gage’s hulking form by the storage containers, his skull mask reflecting the morning sun. He acknowledges me with a slight nod as I approach.

“Start with the main unit,” I tell him, pulling out my keys. “Check every crate, every hidden panel. If Jimmy planted something, it’ll be well-hidden.”

Gage moves silently. His massive hands are surprisingly delicate as they probe for false bottoms or hollow spaces. I take the opposite end, checking behind the legitimate carnival supplies—cotton candy machines, spare parts, maintenance equipment—all the mundane items that make our cover so effective.

“Found something,” Gage’s deep voice breaks the silence. He holds up two bricks of cocaine, which he found behind an air vent.

“Motherfucker,” I mutter, taking them. “Keep searching. There’s probably more.”

Jimmy’s trying to make sure we can’t clear everything in time. Plant enough evidence in enough places, and even a thorough sweep might miss something. One missed brick is all it would take to give the cops evidence we sell and fucking destroy us .

I wipe sweat from my forehead as Gage continues our methodical search. The morning sun turns the storage container into an oven. Another brick appears wedged behind electrical cables—Jimmy’s men got creative with hiding spots.

“That’s number twelve,” I say, adding it to our growing pile.

I wave them over when Colt and Nash return from moving our main supply. “I need your help. Jimmy’s boys planted the product everywhere. Check anything that looks suspicious.”

Nash nods, his graceful movements belying his deadly nature. “Got it, boss.”

I spot Remy near the carnival gates. “Remy! Get over here. Need all hands on deck.”

Remy enters the unit when Cade’s voice cuts through the morning air. “What the fuck are you all doing?”

I turn to see him striding toward us, his face twisted in confusion as he takes in the scene—me, Gage, Nash, Colt, and Remy all huddled around an open storage container with bricks of cocaine in our hands.

“Shit,” I mutter.

No point lying now.

Cade’s eyes lock onto the drugs. “Since when do we move product?”

“Since always,” I admit, running a hand through my hair. “The carnival’s been a front for distribution.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” His fists clench at his sides. “I thought we were friends, Ty. Brothers even. But you’ve been running this operation right under my nose?”

“It was need-to-know,” I say, but the excuse sounds weak.

“Need to know?” Cade laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I’ve had your back since day one. Kept every secret you’ve ever told me. And now I find out you’ve been running drugs this whole time?”

“He’s right,” Nash interjects. “Cade’s proven himself loyal.”

I let out a heavy sigh, meeting Cade’s furious gaze. “You’re right. I should have told you sooner. But this work requires a delicate touch, careful planning?—”

“Delicate?” Cade barks out a laugh, stepping right into my face. His breath hits my cheek as he jabs a finger into my chest. “This kind of fucking work is the kind that needs unhinged, for fuck’s sake. You need someone willing to get their hands dirty, someone who won’t hesitate when shit goes sideways.”

“That’s exactly why I kept you out of it,” I counter, holding my ground. “You’re a loaded gun, Cade. One wrong move in this business gets everyone killed.”

“Oh, and Mr. Careful over there isn’t dangerous?” He jerks his thumb toward Gage, who stands silently watching our confrontation. “The guy who wears a skull mask twenty-four-seven?”

“Gage follows orders,” I say firmly. “He thinks before he acts.”

“And I don’t?” Cade’s voice rises. “I’ve proven myself time and time again. I’ve cleaned up messes, kept secrets, done whatever needed doing. ”

I run a hand through my hair. “Look, you’re right. I should have allowed you to prove yourself with this, too.”

“Damn straight you should have,” he growls.

“Let me make it up to you,” I offer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We need all hands for this sweep; there’s plenty of work after that. You’re in if you want it.”

Cade studies my face for a long moment before his shoulders relax. “Fine. But no more secrets, yeah?”

“No more secrets,” I agree, relieved to have defused the situation. “Now help us find what Jimmy’s men planted before the cops show up.”

Cade’s anger shifts focus. “That bastard’s trying to take us down?” He rolls up his sleeves. “Where do you need me to look?”

I point toward the far side of the container. “Start with the maintenance supplies—they planted some behind the air vents. Check every panel, every loose screw. These fuckers got creative.”

Cade nods and gets to work, his earlier anger channeling into focused determination. Nash takes the food storage area while Colt checks the props and costumes.

“Found two more!” Colt calls out, pulling bricks from inside a hollow juggling pin.

“Three here,” Nash adds, emerging from behind stacked boxes of cotton candy mix.

I wipe sweat from my forehead as the pile grows. The morning sun beats down mercilessly, turning the metal containers into ovens. But we can’t stop. One missed brick could destroy everything .

“Got another,” Cade announces, fishing one from behind an electrical panel. “Clever bastards wired it in place.”

The search continues, everyone working in tense silence. Every few minutes, someone finds another brick—behind the popcorn machine, inside a spare tire, wedged between support beams.

“Jesus,” I mutter as Remy adds two more to the collection. “They must have had hours to plant all these.”

Gage’s quiet voice breaks through the heat. “Found more.” He holds up three bricks tucked inside a fake bottom of a tool chest.

The pile keeps growing as we work through every nook and cranny. Jimmy’s men left no stone unturned, no potential hiding spot unused. By the time we finish checking the first section, we’ve uncovered over thirty bricks.

“Keep going,” I order, moving to the next container. “We’ve got five more units to search.”

“How the fuck did they even get in here?” Lars voices what we’re all thinking. “Security’s tight as a drum. Phoenix has cameras on every inch.”

I wipe sweat from my brow, studying the growing pile of planted cocaine. “Already got Phoenix reviewing the feeds. But Jimmy’s crew is smart—they wouldn’t walk past our cameras.”

“Inside job?” Nash suggests, his eyes scanning our group.

The tension thickens. Trust is everything in our business, and the thought of a rat among us sets everyone on edge.

“Phoenix will find them,” I say firmly. “He’s checking every feed, every timestamp. If someone helped Jimmy’s men get in, we’ll know.”

“Could be one of the regular carnival workers,” Colt offers. “They don’t know about our operation, but they could’ve been paid to let someone in.”

Cade snorts. “Or it could be someone in this circle. Someone who knows all our security measures.”

“Watch it,” Lars warns.

Cade just shrugs. “What? We’re all thinking it. How else would they know exactly where to hide this shit?”

My phone buzzes—a message from Phoenix.

Found something. Come to the office.

“Keep searching,” I order the group. “And remember, we’re family here. A rat threatens all of us. Nobody in this circle would risk that.”

But as I stride toward Phoenix’s trailer, doubt gnaws at my gut. Someone got Jimmy’s men past our security. Someone who knows our operation inside and out. The question is, who would dare betray us?