LITMIR.BIZ

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took charge, instructing everyone on getting out of the car. They all climbed out, the cool concrete floor of the dark building a small jump down from the raised track.

      Ally scrambled to unclip the seat belt and get out. She almost wept when her feet touched solid ground. There might be more to Surfer Dude than good looks after all. Even so, she didn’t plan on ever getting on another roller coaster. Who knew fears could be so sensible?

      Escape was in sight.

      Well, not sight exactly. Between the poor lighting and the dense artificial fog, she could barely see her hand in front of her face. She leaned against the cool block wall, letting her heartbeat slow, and gradually realized she was completely alone. Apparently, her fellow passengers managed to keep their wits about them and beat a hasty retreat out of this walking nightmare.

      “Hello?” she whispered.

      The darkness heightened her other senses. The slow drip of water. Low-wattage bulbs flickered here and there, barely penetrating the shifting gloom. Water condensed on the hard gray walls and the scent of moist earth filled her nose. Which was strange since she stood surrounded on all sides by concrete.

      Why didn’t someone turn off the fog machines?

      More importantly, why was she still standing there?

      Hesitant, one hand maintaining contact with the damp wall, she started away from the ride. Some guy had met his maker down here. The last thing she needed was an up-close-and- personal look at death.

      Shouts erupted again, commanding yells ordering someone to stop.

       Oh, wow. So not good.

      The sharp echo of gunshots followed and she dropped to a crouch. Ally wrapped her arms around her bent legs and curled into the smallest ball possible. The scrape of her shoes as she edged closer to the wall seemed overly loud. Huddled against the wall, moisture seeped into her clothes and she shivered.

      Gingerly rising to a crouch, she broke into an awkward trot, still hugging the wall. Two heartbeats later, pounding footsteps drew close. Ragged breathing accompanied the thud of shoes on concrete. The hair on her nape rose.

      Hand on the wall, she broke into a run. A rough spot tore at her fingers, but she didn’t pull away, praying for a doorway. Or a nook. Really, a cranny or crevice would do. Anything she’d be able to duck into and hide. Please, please, please, please.

      The wall ended and she nearly tumbled into the opening.

      Yes! She slid inside, the pitch-blackness of her cranny not nearly as scary as what was coming behind her. The heavy footsteps drew closer. She shrank back farther, dormant instincts screaming. Terror wrapped clawed fingers around her throat. A whimper escaped without her permission. So close…

      A broad hand clamped over her mouth and a strong arm yanked her back against a warm, hard body. Eyes wide in the dark, her lungs seized. She almost peed her pants. Footsteps and heavy breathing passed within inches of her not-so-empty hidey-hole.

      I am so screwed. She parted her lips.

      “Quiet,” came a low masculine growl. “Just because he’s passed doesn’t mean he won’t double back.”

      His palm caught her gasp as the familiar voice clicked into place. Surfer Dude held her tight against his hard body. She sagged with relief but abruptly stiffened again when he didn’t release her.

       What the heck?

      Mumbling into his hand accomplished zilch. He didn’t budge. She squirmed in his grasp. Nothing. Out of desperation, she licked his palm.

      Soft laughter rumbled in her ear.

      She shivered in delicious response. Wait, no. She shivered in revulsion. Yep, revulsion.

      “You’re gonna have to do better. Licking only brings to mind all sorts of fun games.” The hand over her mouth moved down. Slowly. More of a caress, actually. He cupped her chin, skimmed his fingers down her throat and over her collarbone…

      Whoa. She smacked his hand away. No way was he hitting second base when she didn’t even know his name. Oh, for crying out…No way was he hitting second base period.

      He chuckled again. As if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

      She rolled her eyes. As if. A scuff of sound in the distance grounded her. Was Surfer Dude intentionally trying to distract her from the danger of their situation? Where was his girlfriend?

      “I think it’s safe now.” His whisper reminded her they stood cuddled together like lovers.

      She pulled free, her face burning. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

      “Who?”

      “The gorgeous blonde on the ride. You remember her, right?” Okay, that might have sounded more snotty than she intended.

      She leaned forward to peer around the wall, but his hand on her abdomen stopped her. All her nerve endings fired in response.

      “That was my sister, Celia,” he whispered low in her ear. “After I got her out of the building, I came back for you. You went the wrong way.” She started to respond, but he cut her off. “Now step back while I see if the coast is clear.”

      Setting aside the whole girlfriend issue for the moment, she straightened her spine and stood there like a delicate flower of womanhood while the big manly man peered around the wall. Hey, if he wanted to play hero, far be it for her to stand in his way.

      He snagged her hand, dragging her along behind him as he stepped out of their hiding spot and down the tunnel. Did the guy have spidey-sense? How had he unerringly found her hand in the dark?

      Returning to the main part of the building brought relief mixed liberally with trepidation. After hanging out in the pitch black, dim light was a drastic improvement. Even so, a deranged psychopath was running around inside with them.

      She added a little more enthusiasm to her step. Walking behind Surfer Dude and admiring the broad expanse of his back distracted her from imminent danger. Okay, so the muscle she was admiring was a little farther south.

      He stopped and she smacked face-first into his shirt. And lingered. Good Lord, he smells good. Voices drifted down the building, rudely distracting her from olfactory bliss.

      “You sure you haven’t seen anything, MacAfee?”

      “Nah, he didn’t come my way, Sarge.”

      Her hormone-induced bubble burst. She peeked around Surfer Dude. Two uniformed police officers stood in a doorway with a man in street clothes. Probably a detective or something. Luxurious, beautiful sunlight shone beyond the door.

      Intent on the freedom the swatch of sunshine represented, Ally sidled around Surfer Dude. He pulled her back into his chest and covered her mouth. She sighed into his hand and crossed her arms. This was getting old. Maybe she should stomp on his foot. Kick him in the shin. Elbow him in the ribs. Or just bite him.

      “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, his low voice barely reaching her ears.

      Annoying man. He could read minds too?

      “See the dark shadow against the wall there? Between us and the door?”

      Squinting, she strained to separate the subtle differences in the shadows. A soft sound reached her, like the shift of a foot in dirt. Her eyes widened as the silhouette of a man pressed into the corner became clear.

      A reflection glinted, like a deer’s eyes in the middle of the night as you flashed by in your car. He was looking their way. She pressed back into her human wall, shaking. She belatedly sensed the alert edge in Surfer Dude’s stiffened muscles.

      Slow and easy, hugging the wall beside them, he moved backward. The rough block wall scraped her bare arm. She didn’t care. The closer they were to something solid, the safer she felt. A sense of impending disaster filled her.

      A

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