19. Phoenix

19

PHOENIX

T yson needs me to accompany them on a deal. Which means I have to leave Tilly alone. I hate the idea. What if she escapes?

“You’re too paranoid,” I mumble, hurrying to mix a sedative into a drink. She doesn’t need much—just enough to keep her from causing trouble while I’m gone.

Stepping into the room, I find Tilly sitting on the bed, her eyes darting warily between me and the door. She senses my reluctance to leave.

“I made you a drink.” I offer the drink, hoping she won’t notice the powdery residue on the rim. “You’ve been tense lately. Thought it might help you relax.”

She stares at the glass, then slowly takes it from me. “What’s in it?”

“Just a little something to take the edge off,” I reply. “It’ll help you sleep. You’ve had a rough couple of days.”

She briefly studies the drink, then shrugs and takes a sip. The liquid slides down her throat, carrying the drug into her system. Another sip and she relaxes a bit, her body sagging slightly into the mattress.

“There you go,” I encourage. “Just drink it all. You’ll feel better soon.”

Obediently, she finishes the drink, her eyelids growing heavy. I watch her carefully, gauging the drug’s effect, my own heart pounding in my chest.

“I have to go,” I say. “But I’ll be back soon. You rest up, okay?”

She manages a slight nod, her eyes drifting shut.

“Sleep now, beautiful,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

As I head out, my stomach is in knots. I can’t shake the fear that something will go wrong while away. Ty is persistent, demanding my presence at this deal, but I don’t want to leave her.

I trudge toward his Mustang, knowing the money needs to be counted and my skills are essential. Even though I know she’s out like a light now, doubt creeps in. An obsessive need to turn back and ensure she’s still there, safe, and waiting for me.

“About damn time, Phoenix. Thought you’d bail on me.” Ty’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

My jaw clenches at his words. “I had some things to take care of,” I snap. “Would’ve been here sooner if?—”

“If what? That little project of yours is more important than our operations?” Ty raises an eyebrow.

I glare at him, anger bubbling up. “It’s under control.”

“Everything except your attitude,” he retorts, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a real ray of sunshine today. Someone piss in your Cheerios?”

I clench my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to punch something—or someone. “Don’t start with me, Ty. I’m not in the mood.”

He chuckles, undeterred by my warning. “Gotta say, your mood is shit. You planning on riding with me like that?”

“My mood isn’t your concern,” I growl. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, I yank the seatbelt across my chest with more force than necessary. Ty eyes me as he starts the engine, then shakes his head.

“You’re wound tighter than a two-dollar watch. This personal project, what exactly is it?”

“It’s none of your business,” I bite out.

He snorts. “Everything’s my business when you’re this far up your ass. You need to chill the hell out.”

His words echo in my head as we speed off. I know he’s right—the Carnie life is about rolling with the punches and embracing the chaos. But this time, it’s different. Tilly’s different.

Ty’s voice drifts over me as the miles blur, a mix of instructions for the deal and friendly jabs to lighten my mood. I focus on the task, pushing my worries about Tilly aside. But her face haunts me, and her words—the fear and confusion in her eyes—refuse to fade. I’m caught in a storm of uncertainty and battling my obsessions.

Tyson slows the Mustang as we near the predetermined location, a secluded spot a few miles out of town. The engine rumbles as he kills the lights, coasting to a stop in the darkness.

I scan the area, spotting the familiar figures of Lars, Nash, and Colt. Cool and collected as always, Lars leans against his motorcycle, his body silhouetted by the moonlight. Nash and Colt arrive in the van, their faces illuminated as they pass under a lone streetlight.

Our crew is an odd bunch, each with unique skills and quirks. But together, we make it work, a well-oiled machine. As I observe them, all united in our not-so-legal venture, I feel a twinge of something akin to family.

Lars approaches the Mustang, his boots crunching over the gravel. He pulls off his helmet, and his intense gaze settles on me. “Everything set, Phoenix?”

I nod, reaching for the bag at my feet. “Ready to roll. Just need to grab the goods.”

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Ty grunts, opening his door.

I step out, joining Lars as we walk toward the van. Nash meets us halfway, a carefree grin on his face.

“Coast is clear. We’re good to go.” Nash reports.

Colt emerges from the van, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. “Everything’s packed and ready. Just say the word.”

We fall into our usual routine, each performing our assigned roles with practiced efficiency. Lars and Nash keep watch, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of trouble. Colt and I unload the van.

We work in silence, each of us focused on our task. The only sounds are the occasional rustle of packaging and the soft thud of boxes placed on the ground.

As we finish unloading, the client arrives right on schedule. I recognize the vehicle, a sleek black SUV, and the figure who steps out matches the description we received.

Ty takes point, approaching the client with a confident stride. I remain close, my hands tucked casually into my pockets.

The money is passed over and I set to work counting it quickly. Ty and the client confirm the deal’s details. Lars and Nash move to transfer the boxes to the SUV, their movements deliberate and precise.

Colt lingers nearby, his gaze sweeping the area for any signs of trouble. Once I’ve finished counting and confirmed it’s all there, I hang back, observing the interaction, my mind ticking over the intricacies of the operation.

Ty’s all business, his eyes narrowed in concentration. This exchange of goods and money is a risky procedure we’ve performed countless times.

Within minutes, the transaction is complete. The boxes are loaded into the SUV, and with a brief nod, the client departs.

We linger for a moment, ensuring the coast is clear. Then we pack up.

“Another successful deal,” Ty declares, a note of pride in his voice. “Tonight, we celebrate.”

“Celebration can wait,” I say, returning to the Mustang. “I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”

And as I climb into the car, my thoughts immediately drift back to Tilly. I can’t wait to get back to her, to see the look on her face when I walk through that door.