Page 32 of Carnival Stalker

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. Theonly 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 immediatelydrift 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.

20

TILLY

The moment he leaves, I spring into action. Frantically, I pull at the loosened ties binding me and rush to the bathroom. My heart is pounding as I stick my fingers down my throat, willing myself to vomit and rid my body of the drugs he’s forced on me. I don’t want that poison in my system any longer.

Nausea washes over me, and I heave into the toilet bowl, my body convulsing as I force myself to purge the toxins. A sense of relief hits me as the drug’s hold on me begins to lessen. My mind clears, and I know I have to act fast. I need to escape this trailer and this madman.

My gaze lands on my dress, and I rush over and pull it on. It’s the first time I’ve dressed since this man took me. And then I spot a thick black hoody belonging to Phoenix. The desire to cover up and keep warm wins out over putting something belonging to him on. Grabbing it, I pull it over my head, shivering as his scent wraps around me.

I glance at his computer, knowing it might hold someanswers, but the security will be insane. I don’t have the skills or the time to try and hack it. The desire to smash it to slow him from tracking me is strong, but I decide against it. There could be crucial information related to him faking my death, and I don’t want to destroy any potential evidence.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come. Time to get out of here. And I have to be smart about it.

I scan the trailer, checking every window and door, but they’re all locked tight, as expected. Phoenix isn’t taking any chances when it comes to keeping me trapped here. But then my eyes land on the skylight, and a glimmer of hope sparks within me.

Quietly, I drag a chair over and climb up, testing the skylight. Surprisingly after my first attempt, he didn’t fix the lock on it, as it’s busted. Too confident he’d never allow me to slip free again. I waste no time hoisting myself up and through the narrow opening. The cool night air caresses my face as I pull myself onto the trailer’s roof, and I have to stifle a joyful cry.

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