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ONE
Her world was spinning out of control. Correction. Not her world—her body.
But what else could Mackenzie Hanson expect while in the grip of a colossal gyrating octopus? A cephalopod built from a jumble of plastic and metal parts, and powered by a smelly, backfiring motor. All of it quickly bolted together to be ready for patrons visiting the traveling carnival.
She imagined a tentacle flying off. How safe was she, really?
Her stomach grew queasy with the spinning and rocking motion.
Sky. People. Balloons. Asphalt. Sky. People. Balloons. Asphalt.
Over and over and over.
Mackenzie squeezed her eyes shut.
But for the brief time she’d kept them open...
She might have been hallucinating. Could centrifugal force cause hallucinations?
She thought she’d seen ... No. It was only someone who looked like Julian.
Even with the mere thought of seeing him, her heart rate skyrocketed. The ride wasn’t helping. She squeezed her eyes tighter as if that would protect her from the g-force conspiring against her.
Screams erupted. Laughter too. Loud rock music pounded through her bones as her stomach dropped to catch up with her body being flung by an octopus tentacle. She clung to the safety bar that kept her secure or prevented her from escape. She hadn’t decided which.
All she wanted was to get off the giant rolling octopus.
Now!
A hand squeezed her shoulder. “Are you alright?”
That William, her friend—her date—could even speak while the ride continued spinning added to her anxiety. Mackenzie shook her head.
“I thought it would be fun.” William’s voice sounded tight. “Just hang on. It’ll be over soon.”
But the ride wasn’t over soon. In fact, it continued far too long.
Was the operator distracted? Flirting with a girl much too young for him? Had he left to use the facilities? Mackenzie recalled enjoying this crazy, exhilarating fluttering of her stomach as a kid. Things had certainly changed.
Finally, hydraulics hissed and shifted with the decrease in the motor’s rumble. Her heart calmed with the knowledge that the torture by cephalopod was coming to an end. Keeping her eyes closed, she leaned back and breathed in the malodorous exhaust from the ride’s overtaxed motor.
An image popped into her mind.
Glasses. Dark hair. A forest-green jacket.
Julian Abel.
It couldn’t have been him. But if she’d imagined him—why? She hadn’t seen him since she was sixteen, and she’d locked those memories in a vault and thrown away the proverbial key. Why was he breaking out of the crypt today?
“See, I told you it would be over soon.” William’s sarcasm demanded a smile.
A smile she had to force, along with an incredulous chuckle. “What was I thinking to let you talk me into this? I’m too old for this kind of thing.”
William pressed his large hand over her small one, which still clung to the safety bar.
“Too old?” He quirked a brow. “I beg your pardon.”
She caught him looking at her and dropped her hand from the bar, breaking free from his touch.
