Page 37 of Carnival Obsession

ALICE

I’m walking back to my apartment, my mind still reeling from Derek’s words, when I spot Lars leaning against his motorcycle, a cigarette dangling from his lips. My heart skips a beat, a mixture of excitement and apprehension coursing through my veins.

As I approach, Lars pushes off his bike and tosses the cigarette, stomping it out with his boot. His eyes narrow as he strides toward me, his jaw clenched.

“Where the hell have you been?” he demands.

My mouth is suddenly dry. “I had a meeting with my boss,” I manage, my voice wavering slightly.

Lars draws nearer, his massive frame towering over me, forcing me to step back. His intimidating presence gives me goosebumps. “You don’t have a boss,” he growls.

“What do you mean I don’t have a boss? Of course, I do. Derek is?—”

“Derek fired you,” Lars interrupts, his eyes boring into mine. “I was there when he told you not to return if you walked out with me.”

“Well, maybe he’s changed his mind,” I snap, squaring my shoulders. “And it’s my business, not yours.”

Lars grabs my arm, his grip like iron. “It’s my business when you’re coming with me at the end of this week. The carnival’s leaving town, princess, and you’re coming with us. No arguments.”

I yank my arm free, glaring up at him defiantly. “Like hell I am! I’m not just going to abandon my life here on your whim. I have responsibilities. I can’t just wander off into the sunset with your carnival.”

His eyes narrow. “A whim?” His voice is deadly calm.

“We barely know each other,” I protest, trying to reason with him. “It’s not like me to just take off because of a guy, especially one I’ve only known for a short time.”

Lars’s eyes flash angrily, and he grabs his spare helmet, forcing it onto my head. “Get on the bike,” he orders.

I open my mouth to protest further, but the look in his eyes silences me. With a resigned sigh, I climb onto the back of his motorcycle. He climbs in front of me, and I wrap my arms around his waist.

Before I can settle in, Lars revs the engine and peels away from the curb, the sudden acceleration nearly knocking the wind out of me. We race through the streets of Willow Creek at a terrifying speed, the buildings and trees blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors.

I cling to Lars, my heart pounding as we fly past the town limits and onto the open road. The wind whips at my clothes and hair, and I can barely catch my breath.

“Where are we going?” I shout over the engine’s roar, but Lars doesn’t answer. He just leans forward, urging the bike to go even faster.

I glance over his shoulder and realize we’re headed toward the national park, the towering trees and rugged mountains looming in the distance. My stomach twists with fear and excitement, and I wonder what Lars has planned for us.

As we speed down the highway, I can’t help but feel a thrill of exhilaration coursing through my veins. Despite the danger and the uncertainty, there’s something intoxicating about being with Lars, about how he takes control and pulls me into his world.

But even as I lose myself in the rush of the ride, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers a warning. I barely know this man, yet I let him whisk me away to God knows where.

Finally, he pulls to a stop in a dense forest.

I climb off the motorcycle, my legs shaky from the adrenaline-fueled ride. The silence is broken only by birds’ occasional chirping and leaves rustling in the breeze. I glance around, realizing how isolated we are, and a sense of unease settles in my stomach.

Lars dismounts the bike, his movements deliberate and controlled. He turns to face me, his eyes dark and intense. I can sense the anger radiating off him, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask.

He takes a step toward me, his jaw clenched. “I brought you here to prove I’m anything but a whim.”

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “What do you mean?”

Lars closes the distance between us, his broad frame looming over me. “Strip,” he commands.

My eyes widen in shock. “What? No!” I protest.

“I said, strip,” Lars repeats. “Take off your clothes, now.”

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