Page 39 of On Your Knees

I give Zeland a thumbs-up, and we spot Arlo the second he steps through the entrance. The gates creak closed behind him, sealing him inside the carnival’s world of shadows and neon lights. He looks nervous—his hands twitching at his sides, his shoulders stiff—but there’s something else beneath it. Curiosity. Anticipation.

He steps forward, passing the line of rigged carnival games, and right on cue, the clown heads jolt to life. Their painted faces twist and mechanical laughter echoes as they spin toward him.

Arlo practically jumps out of his skin and excitement sparks in my veins.

I pull my mask into place and switch the neon and voice transformer on, inhaling deeply before letting the words slip from my lips.

“You better run... let’s see how fast you really are.”

Arlo whips his head around, eyes locking on me. For the briefest moment, something flickers across his face, and the corners of his lips curl up in a grin.

He takes off running and I bolt after him, my heartbeat thundering in sync with his footsteps. The carnival blurs around us, flashing lights and distorted music twisting together as he barrels away from us. Zeland could easily overtake him, but he lingers behind me, letting me take the lead in our hunt.

Arlo ducks past the ring toss, weaving through the sideshow alley, his breath sharp and ragged. He’s fast, but not fast enough.

“Are you really trying to get away? Or are you just waiting for me to catch you?”

His head jerks slightly at my voice, but he doesn’t slow. Good. I don’t want this to end yet.

I stay close, watching him react, observing the way his body moves and the tension in his shoulders. He veers right, using the teacup ride as a makeshift barrier. I slip between the gaps effortlessly, keeping him in my sight.

“Keep running if you dare. It only makes me want you more.”

He mutters something under his breath, probably a curse, and pivots sharply toward the Ferris wheel.

My pulse spikes. He’s desperate now.

I lunge as he reaches the metal gate, but at the last second, he grabs onto the bars and hauls himself onto the moving ride. The cart sways as he climbs in, and he stares down at me.

I tilt my head, lips curving under my mask. He thinks he’s safe, but he’s wrong.

Zeland stops beside me, laughing under his breath. “What now?”

I step closer to the Ferris wheel, my eyes never leaving Arlo.

“You’re only making this more fun for me.”

The ride creaks higher. This game is far from over.

Arlo pops his head over the side. He might need a quick break, but he won’t get away that easily.

“What happens now is we wait for it to descend to a relatively safe height and we stop the ride. Ever fucked in a Ferris wheel?”

Zeland chuckles. “Stop the Ferris wheel when it’s too high to jump out safely, but won’t kill us if we fall.”

I open my mouth to ask Zeland who he is talking to, but then I realize he must have an earpiece and is talking to Ridge.

When the ride eventually halts, I skip forward.

“Is this the best you can do? I expected more of a challenge.”

Turning to Zeland, I place a hand on his chest and whisper, “You wait here, but tell Ridge to start the ride once I’m in.”

“Whatever you want.”

I move closer to the Ferris wheel, then I climb the emergency ladder. Heights have never bothered me, and I love when my adrenaline spikes—I like the excitement of feeling free. When I reach the arm for his cart, I step onto it and hold the crossbars, balancing carefully while my heart beats a million miles a minute. Once I’m close enough, I vault over the railing and land in the seat beside Arlo before he can react. The gondola sways under our combined weight, but I barely notice. I’m too focused on the way his breath stutters, and the way his hands grip the bar as if that could somehow keep him in control.

I lean in, close enough that he can feel the heat of my body, close enough so that if he turned his head even slightly, if I wasn’t wearing the mask, our lips would nearly touch. His chest rises and falls rapidly, adrenaline still coursing through him from the chase. But I can tell it’s not just the thrill of running that’s making his pulse race.

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