32. Tyson

32

TYSON

I burst into the office trailer, my jaw clenching as I spot Duke’s weathered face on the security feed. He moves purposefully through our storage area at 2 AM, leading Jimmy’s men straight to our most vulnerable spots.

“Fucking hell.” My fists curl at my sides. “He knows every inch of this place.”

Phoenix nods, rewinding the footage. “Three hours they were here. Duke showed them all the hiding spots and helped them plant the evidence in the main storage unit. They didn’t put anything in the other units, so you don’t need to continue. They cleared out before anyone stirred.”

The betrayal burns in my chest. Duke’s been with the carnival more than anyone. But I’d seen the resentment in his eyes when Gary handed me the reins instead of him. The sideways glances, the subtle challenges to my authority.

“Pull up his movements for the past two weeks,” I order, leaning over Phoenix’s shoulder. “I want to know every contact he’s had with Jimmy’s people.”

More footage rolls across the screens—Duke in conversations by the Ferris wheel, accepting thick envelopes, pointing out our security cameras. The old bastard’s been plotting this.

“He’s in his usual spot,” Phoenix says, switching to a live feed. “Working on the Ferris wheel controls.”

My blood boils as Duke tinkers with the machinery, probably planning his next betrayal. After everything Gary taught us about loyalty about family—Duke threw it all away because his ego couldn’t handle being passed over.

“Get Lars,” I growl. “Tell him to bring Duke here. Quietly.”

Phoenix’s fingers fly across his keyboard. “What about the cops? They’ll be here in six hours.”

“First things first.” I straighten up, cold rage settling in my bones. “Duke needs to learn what happens to rats in this family.”

I stand behind my desk as Lars shoves Duke into my trailer, Phoenix trailing behind them. Duke’s weathered face shows confusion, but a flicker of fear in his eyes tells me he knows exactly why he’s here. Lars’s murderous glare confirms my suspicions - he’s figured it out, too.

“Have a seat, Duke.” I gesture to the chair in front of my desk, keeping my voice steady and calm. “We need to discuss something important.”

Duke settles into the chair, his hands gripping the armrests. “What’s this about, Tyson?”

Phoenix pulls up a video on his monitor and turns it to face him. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m looking at here?” The footage shows him leading Jimmy’s men through our storage area, pointing out hiding spots.

His face drains of color as he watches himself betray us. The confident facade cracks, replaced by naked fear.

“Interesting viewing, isn’t it?” I lean forward, placing my hands on the desk. “Twenty-seven years with this carnival, Duke. Twenty-seven years of trust, of family. And you threw it all away because Gary chose me instead of you ten fucking years ago.”

Duke’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. Sweat beads on his forehead.

“You want to know what we found this morning?” I continue. “Thirty-eight bricks of cocaine, planted exactly where you showed Jimmy’s men to put them. The cops are coming in a few hours, thanks to your new friend Jimmy.”

Lars steps closer, his presence looming over Duke’s shoulder. The old man shrinks in his chair.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” I say. “You’re going to tell me everything. Every conversation with Jimmy, every detail you shared, every penny he paid you. And maybe I’ll make it quick when we’re done with you.”

Duke’s face crumples. “Please, Tyson. I can explain?—”

The sharp crack of Lars’s palm against Duke’s cheek cuts through his pleading.

“Pull it together,” Lars snarls. “Traitors don’t get mercy.”

I watch Duke’s shoulders shake as tears stream down his face. After all our years together, the sight should move me and stir some emotion, but I feel nothing except cold purpose.

“Stand up,” I order, my voice steady.

Duke stumbles to his feet. “I’ll do anything. Please, I?—”

“You had your chance to be loyal,” I cut him off. “Now you pay the price.”

I grab his arm and guide him toward the door, maintaining a firm but measured grip.

“Where are you taking me?” Duke’s voice breaks.

“Somewhere more appropriate.” I lead him across the grounds toward my Mustang. “Can’t have the office getting messy, can we?”

I shove Duke into my Mustang, his body folding into the leather seat like a broken puppet. Turning to Lars, I keep my voice low and controlled.

“Get the guys. Meet me at the storage unit where we moved the stash. Ensure they scan the bricks for any tracking devices or bugs. If they’re clean, bring them to the unit. If not, dump them in the river on the way. I want everyone to see what happens to rats in this family.”

Lars nods. Duke didn’t know about our drug business until Jimmy approached him, but that doesn’t excuse his betrayal.

“On it, boss.” Lars strides away.

Phoenix slides into the back seat of my Mustang, laptop balanced on his knees. His fingers fly across the keys as I start the engine.

“Message Tilly,” I tell him. “Have her monitor our cyber security while you’re out. Can’t risk any more surprises today.”

Duke stares straight ahead as I pull away from the carnival grounds. We can’t deal with him here—not with the cops due within hours. But the storage unit will serve our purpose just fine. And there’s no way Duke could have told Jimmy about it, as he has no idea we have a storage unit nearby. We have units in every major town and city where we sell, just in case.

Phoenix’s typing provides a steady backdrop to Duke’s ragged breathing. The old man hasn’t said a word since I shoved him in the car, probably realizing that begging won’t save him now.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, focusing on the road ahead. The storage unit isn’t far—just enough distance to ensure no connection to the carnival when the cops arrive.

Pulling up at the unit, I put on gloves and throw a pair to Phoenix. Then, I drag Duke into the dimly lit storage unit, his feet stumbling as he tries to resist. With practiced efficiency, I loop some rope through the rafters and secure his arms above his head, leaving him dangling with his toes barely scraping the concrete floor.

“Please, Tyson. I made a mistake. I wasn’t thinking straight—” Duke’s voice cracks.

“Wasn’t thinking straight?” I tighten the knots. “You led Jimmy’s men right to us. Showed them every hiding spot and set us up to take the fall.”

“He promised me?—”

“What? The carnival?” I circle him slowly. “That was your price? Getting me out of the way so you could finally run things?”

Tears stream down Duke’s weathered face. “You don’t understand. After all those years working alongside Gary, teaching me everything he knew... he just handed it all to you.”

I lean against a support beam, studying Duke’s tear-streaked face. “You want to know why Gary chose me? Because you didn’t have what it takes. Not for the show, and definitely not for the side business.”

“I ran this carnival while Gary was sick!” Duke struggles against his bonds.

“You maintained it. There’s a difference.” I push off from the beam. “Gary needed someone young, someone who could handle both sides of this operation. Someone with the darkness it takes to do what needs to be done.”

Duke’s face twists. “Darkness? Do you mean running drugs behind everyone’s backs? Taking huge paydays while keeping us in the dark?”

“That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?” I step closer. “Jimmy told you about the side hustle and the money I was making, and you got angry.”

“Damn right, I got angry!” Spittle flies from Duke’s mouth. “Twenty-seven years of loyalty, and you’re making millions while I fix rides for not much more than minimum wage?”

“And instead of coming to me, you went straight to Jimmy.” I shake my head. “Why didn’t you ask me about it, Duke? Why betray your family to an outsider?”

“Would you have told me the truth?” His voice cracks. “Would you have let me in? ”

“We’ll never know now, will we?” I study his broken expression. “Because you chose Jimmy over family.”

Duke hangs his head, shoulders shaking. “I was angry. Felt like you’d betrayed me first.”

“The difference is, my secrets kept you safe. Your betrayal put us all at risk.”

The storage unit door creaks open, and my men file in individually. All of them are wearing gloves, too, as Lars knows the drill by now. Their faces are grim, and they understand the gravity of the situation. Lars shoulders a heavy bag, and so do Colt and Nash. “The bricks were clean?” I confirm.

Lars nods. “Yep, swept them all.”

Cade’s eyes lock onto Duke, and his body tenses like a coiled spring. Before I can react, he lunges forward with a snarl.

Lars catches him by the shoulder, yanking him back. “Cool it,” he growls in Cade’s ear. “This isn’t your show. Ty calls the shots here.”

“But that fucking rat—” Cade struggles against Lars’s grip.

“I said cool it.” Lars’s voice drops lower. “We follow the boss’s lead. That’s how this works.”

Cade’s jaw clenches, but he stops fighting. His chest heaves with controlled breaths as he steps back in line with the others. Nash and Colt flank him.

Gage leans against the doorframe, silent as always, while Remy unloads the planted bricks from a duffel bag. The evidence of Duke’s betrayal piles up on the concrete floor.

I meet each of their eyes, seeing anger and determination. They’re ready to follow my lead, to deal with this threat to our family. Even Cade has settled, though his fingers still twitch at his sides.

Duke hangs between us, his sobs the only sound breaking the tense silence. I grab him by the shirt, wrenching him forward until our faces are inches apart.

“You’re gonna tell me everything you told Jimmy.” My voice is barely a whisper. “Names, dates, locations. And then you’re gonna beg for mercy, so I let you die quick.”

His eyes dart wildly. “Just let me go. I didn’t tell him anything else, I swear?—”

“Cut the bullshit.” Lars shoves him. “We know you played us. Now it’s time to pay.”

The fear in Duke’s eyes shifts to resignation as he realizes his pleas won’t save him.

I stand in front of him, meeting his gaze with cold steadiness. “You wanted to run things, Duke? Be careful what you wish for.”

I signal my men to follow and move to the far end of the storage unit. Behind me, Duke’s whimpers grow more desperate. He knows what’s coming.

“Lars, Cade, secure him to that pillar.” I nod to the steel pillar at the unit’s center. “Remy, bring me the box of tools from my trunk.”

They spring into action while Duke thrashes against his bindings. I consider the impending violence and how a sculptor might select just the right tools for his masterpiece.

“Here, boss.” Remy holds out a metal toolbox.

I take it with a nod, careful not to break eye contact with him. It is a silent reminder that our family is strong, and betrayals only strengthen us.

“Ty.” Duke’s voice quavers. “Don’t do this. Please.”

His legs squirm, trying to keep his feet on the ground, but Cade and Lars tighten their hold on the rope around his torso, lifting him up until he dangles a foot off the concrete.

“I don’t like getting my tools dirty,” I explain. “Now, let’s see what you gave Jimmy besides access to our operation.”

I pluck a pair of needle-nose pliers from the toolbox and maneuver them so Duke can see them gleaming in the fluorescent light.

Duke’s whimpers turn to screams as I wrench the first nail from his index finger. Blood wells up from the exposed nail bed, dripping onto the concrete floor.

Cade bounces on his heels, eyes bright with excitement. His grin stretches wide as Duke’s screams echo through the storage unit. The unhinged bastard always did enjoy violence.

Behind his skull mask, Gage remains motionless, watching with his usual eerie silence. His massive frame casts long shadows in the dim light.

Lars stands at my right shoulder, face impassive as I move to the next fingernail. He’s seen enough of my torture to stay cool, methodically noting Duke’s reactions for signs of breaking.

Phoenix keeps typing on his laptop, occasionally glancing at the traitor. We’ve done this dance before—he knows the routine .

“Please, stop—” Duke’s plea cuts off in another shriek as the second nail tears free.

“Ready to start talking?” I ask Duke, positioning the pliers around his third nail.

His head thrashes. “I’ll tell you everything! Just please—no more!”

I pause, keeping the pliers in place. “Start with the first meeting. When did Jimmy approach you?”

Blood continues dripping from his mangled fingers as Duke starts spilling his guts. Three nails was all it took to break him. Amateur.

“Three days ago,” Duke gasps, his fingers twitching. “Jimmy came to my trailer after hours. Said he knew about the drugs, knew you were making millions while keeping me in the dark.”

I twist the pliers, drawing another whimper. “And?”

“He offered me a cut. If I helped frame you, he’d let me take over the carnival.” Duke’s words tumble out between ragged breaths. “Wanted me to show his men the best places to plant evidence.”

Lars steps forward. “What exactly did you tell them about our route?”

“Everything.” Duke’s head hangs low. “Where we’re headed next—Burlington, then Cedar Rapids. Showed them the maintenance schedules, when security would be lightest.”

“The bricks?” I press.

“Jimmy’s men brought them last night, as you saw on the feeds. I showed them the best places to hide them in the main storage unit.” His voice cracks. “They said the cops would find them during inspection tonight. ”

Cade snarls from behind me. “You fucking piece of?—”

“Quiet,” I snap, keeping my eyes on Duke. “What else?”

“That’s all, I swear.” Blood drips steadily from his exposed nail beds. “Just the routes and helping plant the drugs. Jimmy said that would be enough to take you down.”

I share a look with Lars. We’ve already seen the security footage confirming Duke’s story of him leading Jimmy’s men through our grounds and accepting an envelope that could only be payment last night.

“Please,” Duke whispers. “That’s everything I know. I told you everything.”

I set down the pliers. His confession matches what Phoenix caught on camera. There’s no point in dragging this out further. We have what we need, and it won’t be long until the cops return to the carnival.

The men stand silently.

“Who wants the privilege of ending him?” I ask, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

Cade shifts forward, a sinister grin on his face. “I do.”

I smirk, unsurprised. Cade’s always been the most unhinged among us—a primal force yearning for release.

“Go on, then. Make it quick.” I reach into my toolbox and pull out a hunting knife, handing it to Cade by the blade. “Do it right.”

Cade’s eyes light up as he takes the knife, his fingers wrapping around the handle. Without hesitation, he steps forward and slashes Duke’s throat in a swift, brutal move that sends blood spurting across the floor.

Duke’s body jerks, his eyes wide. A gurgling sound escapes his throat as his life spills into a red geyser. He twitches once, twice, then goes still.

As his life slips away, silence descends on the storage unit. The only sound is the soft patter of blood dripping from the body onto the concrete floor. I eye each of my men, judging their reactions.

Cade’s eyes glint with sadistic satisfaction.

Lars is unreadable, his face a carefully neutral mask. He’s seen enough death to know the importance of staying steady.

Gage remains silent, his features hidden behind his skull mask. Only his eyes are visible, icy pools that give nothing away.

Remy’s breath quickens. Nash’s jaw is set with determination as he watches the light fade from Duke’s eyes with a dark glint in his own.

Colt shifts, his fingers curling into fists, but he holds his ground. He knows the price of weakness, of showing hesitation.

I nod with satisfaction. “Well done.” I turn to Lars. “Clean this up, boys, and get rid of the body. I’ll take care of the carnival.”

Lars nods, already reaching for the duffel bag. We’ve dealt with enough bodies that the process is routine now.

Cade sheaths the knife, wiping his hands on his pants. Blood stains his shirt. “That was fun.”

I grab a rag, wiping down the toolbox to remove any traces of blood. “You did good, Cade. He deserved it. ”

His chest puffs out with pride. “He did, didn’t he? I’m just glad I was the one who got to do it.”

“But, you’ll have to burn those clothes,” Lars says, returning with a heavy-duty black garbage bag, efficiently wrapping up Duke’s body.

“Where should we dump him?” Remy asks.

“Bury him out in the woods,” I say.

“Woods it is, boss.” Lars gets to work trying to shift Duke into a bag.

“We’ll handle everything,” Nash adds, already gathering cleaning supplies.

“Like it never happened,” Colt agrees.

“We’ll make it deep,” Cade chimes in with that manic grin. “Wouldn’t want any animals digging him up.”

Gage nods, his massive frame moving to help Lars with the body.

“On it, boss,” Remy confirms, grabbing shovels from the corner.

I motion to Phoenix, who’s already closing his laptop. “Let’s roll.”

We leave the storage unit, the sounds of my men’s cleanup fading behind us. The cool air hits my face as we stride toward my waiting Mustang. Turning the key brings the engine roaring to life, and I pull away from the carnival grounds, leaving my crew to their grim task.

Phoenix types away on his phone beside me. The streetlights flash across his face as we speed toward the carnival, neither of us speaking. Some things don’t need words.