Nausea churned as the Roller Coaster of Death plummeted to the ground.
“I can do this.” Ally’s short fingernails bit into her palms.
The ride blew past her, blowing her hair back, the screaming of its occupants piercing her tender eardrums. Cold sweat popped up across her skin.
“Why am I doing this?” Oh, right. She’d gotten tired of listening to everyone else on the entire planet, or just her office, talk about the fun they were having while she went home to a glass of wine and a book. An excellent book, but still.
The ginormous roller coaster drew her gaze skyward. Some demented creator had produced a horrific edifice with tracks climbing high into the clouds before dropping to the earth and disappearing inside a concrete building filled with fog and general creepiness. The mechanical roar and screech of the amusement park almost drowned out the heckling of her inner coward.
The line for the ride emerged from the crowd, bringing her hesitant approach to an abrupt halt. People lined up behind her and milled around on either side, boxing her in. The cold sweat from earlier spread and she shivered. Fenced in, blocked, no immediate avenue of escape. She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth.
A sweaty hand grabbed her arm and she jumped.
“Hey. You, you and you two come with me. You’ve been chosen for the best seat on the coaster.” The guy’s grin about split his pimpled face as he ushered them away from the disappointed crowd.
Ally followed in a daze, misty visions of dashing for the nearest exit tempting her. The best seat? She didn’t want any seat, let alone the best.
Arriving at their destination, the guy stopped and turned to face them. Pimple face, aka Mr. Obnoxious, gestured to the side with a flourish worthy of a grand ringmaster. Her jaw dropped. Surely not that seat.
Mr. Obnoxious grabbed her arm again.
Gritting her teeth, she yanked free and scrambled in on her own.
A juvenile delinquent, by the look of his saggy clothes and scruffy appearance, climbed in behind her and a blonde sat beside him.
The thump of a sneaker-clad foot on her seat made her swing around. Her gaze traveled up, skating over thick muscles, golden hair and bronzed skin; something clenched deep in her belly.
Ally swallowed thickly and averted her gaze as the leg’s owner dropped into the seat with casual grace. His leg grazed hers, the coarse feel of tiny hairs against her smooth skin foreign. Self-consciously trying to make her plump curves smaller, she glanced up through her lashes at the newest addition to the suicide machine. Shaggy blonde hair, the shadow of a beard darkening his square jaw, his raw masculinity short-circuited every one of her nerve endings. He had the kind of good looks guaranteed to bring women by the droves and fit her image of a typical California Surfer Dude. Her lips flat-lined.
“Alright, folks. Let’s get you all buckled in, safe and secure.”
Safe? Secure? Was this an issue?
Mr. Obnoxious grabbed the seat belts and buckled them around her before she even had a chance to lift a finger.
Narrowing her eyes, she turned to give the jerk a piece of her mind and encountered the amused, blue-green gaze of her surfer neighbor. She clamped her jaw shut and faced forward. What fun.
After instructing everyone on proper safety protocol, Mr. Obnoxious stepped away. The other passengers chatted, clearly looking forward to the ride and all very much insane. Waiting for the rest of the ride to be loaded, Ally glowered out the front of the death-by-idiocy car and eavesdropped on her companions. Apparently, the hot guy to her right belonged with the woman in the rear seat and the juvie was riding solo.
Why had she left the safety of her comfy couch?
The metallic screech of gears made her jump. The roller coaster lurched forward. Their “special” car shuddered before accelerating smoothly down the track. Despite the restraints, the first sharp turn flung her into Surfer Dude’s rock-hard body. Apparently, there were a few benefits to a shiftless lifestyle. Pressed against him from shoulder to knee, she met his gaze. A wave of heat surged into her cheeks. Was the guy perpetually amused, or what?
“Sorry.” She straightened with effort as the car went into another loop.
Holy crap, he smells good.
They wound in and out of tunnels, faster and faster until the ride slowed, click-clacking up a steep grade. Ally white-knuckled the hem of her shorts.
Crisp masculine hair chased tingles up the side of her arm, distracting her from imminent death. Surfer Dude’s golden thigh pressed against her hand. His thigh moved, doing a slow slide over her wrist. She glanced up. The heat in his expression made a mockery of all her internal cracks about easy-going. He was about as relaxed as a hungry lion crouched in tall grass, eyeing the plump lines of a grazing gazelle. Licking her lip, ultra-sensitive to every inch of skin he touched, she tried to scoot away. The ride went into a free fall.
The bottom of her stomach disappeared and she lost her breath. Jerking free of Surfer Dude’s gaze, her eyes widened as they screamed down the track, slammed around a corner and into a building. In the dark and shadowy interior, fog machines worked overtime. They shot in and out of clouds of the stuff. Moist air whooshed past her ear; severe claustrophobia kicked in.
She fought to remain calm as she breathed the thick, weird-smelling fog. Squeezing her eyes shut only worsened her panic. She bit her lip, holding in a moan of pure agony.
The girl behind her let out an odd squeak. People yelled. Ally snapped her eyes open. The clinging mist lent a dreamlike quality to the scene as the coaster flew high above the ground. Several cars ahead, two men had removed their seat belts and were wrestling. The fighting men stood and she gasped.
“What the hell?” Surfer Dude leaned forward.
One of the men toppled out and disappeared into the swirling fog. Eyes wide and heart in her throat, Ally gasped. Screams ricocheted off the walls. The second man peered over the side and then sat. Just…sat.
A few heartbeats passed. The ride clattered along the track, the low rumble blending with the muttering of her erstwhile companions; the noises were distant. Surreal. She tightened her grip on her restraints. No one touches my straps.
Her brain ceased functioning.
People shouting, demanding the ride be stopped, finally penetrated her fog of shock. Someone must have heard or seen what happened because the cars slowed as they rounded several more loops. At ground level inside the building they came to a stop.
“What’s going on?” An uneasy mix of teenage belligerence and anxiety threaded the juvenile delinquent’s voice.
The blonde in the rear leaned forward. “That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?”
Ya think?
Surfer Dude twisted around—Ally assumed to comfort his plastic-perfect girlfriend. “It’s okay, honey.”
Ally started to shake. She could barely see through the shifting gloom. Strange men were talking about stuff she only encountered from the safety of her living room while watching TV and, oh yeah, she’d witnessed a man plummet to his death. Would anyone notice if she covered her ears and cowered on the floor of this thing?
Lights bobbed closer, accompanied by the sound of men’s voices. From the fragments she caught, they sounded like the police.
“Hey! Freeze. Police.”
Bile rose in Ally’s throat.
A scuffle and swearing followed. Running feet slapped against the concrete and the