24. Alice

24

ALICE

I wake to the sensation of Lars's strong arm draped over my body, his warmth enveloping me like a cocoon. As I lay there, my mind wanders to the life-altering decision that looms before me. Could I really leave Willow Creek behind? This town has been my home for as long as I can remember, and the thought of abandoning it fills me with a sense of unease.

My mom, who raised me alone, remarried and moved six hours away to Kerry when I turned eighteen. I chose not to go with her, opting to stay in Willow Creek. But honestly, a part of me has felt like something's been missing since she left. We were so close, and her presence provided a sense of companionship that I couldn't replicate, even with my best friend, Lily.

Don't get me wrong, I love Willow Creek and the people here. Lily is an amazing friend, always there for me through thick and thin. And I have other friends who make life here enjoyable. But as I lay here, wrapped in Lars's embrace, I can't help but feel a longing for something more.

My mom and I still talk on the phone regularly, but it's not the same as having her here with me. When she left, I felt abandoned, like a piece of my heart had been ripped out. I've tried to fill that void with work and friendships, but it's never been enough.

Now, as I contemplate the possibility of leaving with Lars and the carnival, I wonder if this could be my chance to find that missing piece.

I feel Lars's body stir beside me as he shifts and opens his eyes. "Good morning, princess," he murmurs in that deep, gravelly voice. He leans in and presses his lips to mine in a lingering kiss.

As our lips part, Lars must sense the unease coursing through me. "What's up? You seem tense," he says, his brow furrowing.

I take a deep breath, unsure how to voice the thoughts swirling in my head. "I... I was just thinking about the decision I have to make," I admit hesitantly.

Lars lets out a low chuckle, his eyes darkening slightly. "You can pretend you have one if that makes it easier."

I feel my heart rate quicken as his words sink in. He's insinuating that no matter what I decide, I'll be coming with him when the carnival leaves town. The intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt that I'm already his in his mind, and my so-called choice is merely an illusion.

I take a deep breath. "How can I leave with someone I know nothing about?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly. "I mean, I barely know you. How can I uproot my entire life for a stranger?"

Lars's eyes soften, and he tries to brush a strand of hair from my face. "I'm an open book, princess. What do you want to know? Ask me anything."

His sudden willingness to share catches me off guard. I pause, considering what I truly want to know about this enigmatic man who's turned my world upside down.

"Tell me about your family," I say finally. "And your upbringing. I want to know where you come from, what shaped you into who you are today."

Lars's expression shifts, a mix of emotions flickering across his face. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to share.

"My family..." he begins, his voice low and measured. "It wasn't exactly a picture-perfect childhood. My old man was a mean drunk, always taking out his frustrations on my mom and me. We lived in a small, run-down house on the outskirts of town. Money was always tight, and tensions were always high."

He continues, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance.

"My mom worked herself to the bone, trying to keep food on the table. Double shifts at the diner, cleaning houses on the side. But it was never enough for my dad. He'd come home late, reeking of booze, and start in on her. I'd try to step in, but..." He trails off, his jaw clenching.

I reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Lars looks at me, his eyes filled with a vulnerability I've never seen before.

"I practically raised my little sister," he says softly. "Made sure she had something to eat, got her ready for school. It wasn't much of a childhood, but I did what I had to do."

I feel a lump in my throat as I listen to Lars's story. My heart aches for the young boy he once was, shouldering so much responsibility when he should have been able to be a kid.

"Where is your sister now?" I ask, hoping to hear that she found a way out and is living a better life.

A shadow falls across Lars's face, his eyes darkening with pain. "She's gone," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "She killed herself."

I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth. "Oh, Lars, I'm so sorry."

He nods, swallowing hard. "She left a note. It turned out that right under both my mom's nose and mine, my dad had been..." He pauses. "He'd been molesting her since she was five."

My stomach churns at the revelation, and I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Lars's grip on my hand tightens, his knuckles turning white.

"I blame myself," he continues. "I should have realized, should have saved her. I was supposed to protect her, and I failed."

I want to tell him it wasn't his fault; he was just a child himself, but I can see the guilt etched deeply into his features.

"Dad got locked up," Lars says, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. "But it wasn't enough. I wanted to kill him. I still do."

I can see now why Lars is the way he is, why he's so fiercely controlling. It's all rooted in this profound loss and the guilt he carries.

My heart aches for him, for the little boy who had to grow up far too fast and endure unimaginable trauma.

Without a word, I reach out and pull him into a hug, cradling his head against my chest. He turns tense at first but then slowly melts into me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

We stay like that for a long moment, our breathing synchronizing as I run my fingers soothingly through his hair. I can feel the tension seeping out of him.

Finally, Lars pulls back slightly, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Alice..." he murmurs.

I reach up and cup his face, my thumbs caressing his cheekbones. "I'm here, Lars," I whisper. "I'm not going anywhere."

In that moment, something shifts between us, a connection forming that transcends the physical passion we've shared. It's all happening far too quick, but I've never felt like this for anyone before.

Lars leans in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that's achingly tender, yet brimming with a depth of feeling that takes my breath away.

My fingers tangle in his hair as I pull him closer, our bodies pressed flush against each other. But there's no urgency, no desperate need for release. Instead, we move together in a languid, sensual dance, savoring every touch, every caress.

As we lay there lazily exploring each other, I realize he's right. We belong together. And I can't wait to start my new life with him on the road with the carnival.