Page 66 of Carnival Master

“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 ourbusiness, 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?

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