Free Fire and Ash (Immortal Touch) by Allie Gail

admitted. “They don’t say anything and the number doesn’t show up. The only person I can think of would be my ex. After our engagement was broken he was calling me a lot. He…um, sorta lost it towards the end. But I hadn’t heard from him since I left Alabama so I was hoping he’d given up.”
    “Would he have any way of knowing where you are?”
    “I don’t see how. Only my parents and best friend know, and they wouldn’t tell him. Not after…well. They wouldn’t tell him.” No, not after all that had happened. They didn’t trust him any more than she did - and they didn’t even know the whole story.
    They didn’t know that he could possibly be much more dangerous than anyone realized.
    “Well, if anybody’s still hanging around your patio door, Tag will find him. He’s retired military. We take security here very seriously.”
    “Oh, hell,” Sami exclaimed, bringing a frustrated hand to her forehead. “I don’t have my keycard.” She’d evacuated in such a hurry, the key had been the last thing on her mind.
    “No problem.” Retrieving a compact wallet from his pants, he pulled out his own card and used it to open the door to 122. The room was just as she had left it, innocuous and unthreatening. Television still on with the volume low, teal throw blanket bunched up on the couch, plastic cup on the coffee table with melting ice diluting the soda inside. Ash walked over to the back door and flicked the light switch.
    “I think the bulb’s burned out,” Sami told him unnecessarily.
    Finding the door still secure, he unlocked and slid it open to step out onto the dark patio. Sami followed on his heels, sucking in her breath when she glimpsed a huge, shadowy figure with a flashlight approaching them.
    “Nobody back here, Mr. Reid,” the gruff voice said. He drew closer and Sami could make out Tag, the beefy security guard who was built like a tank. She’d met him her first day here and immediately pegged him as a gentle giant. “If anyone was screwing around out here, they’re gone now.”
    “Okay. How about keeping a close surveillance on this area for the rest of your shift?” Ash requested.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “You working tomorrow?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “How about asking Jeff when he comes in to hook up a security camera back here. Just in case.”
    “Will do. Anything else?”
    “No, that’s all. Thanks, man.”
    “No problem.” He nodded with a lopsided grin. “’Night, Miss Porter. Just dial 101 if you need me.”
    “Thank you, Tag.” She gave him a grateful smile as Ash reached up to unscrew the bulb from the porch light. They stepped back inside, and she watched while he replaced it with a bulb snagged from her reading lamp. That done, he pulled the sliding glass door closed and locked it.
    “The phone calls…did they come to your cell phone or the land line?”
    “Cell.”
    “So you haven’t had any direct calls to your room?”
    “N-no.” Feeling a sudden chill, Sami began to shiver. She crossed her bare arms, and the skin was hot as a sidewalk in July. She wondered if she should pop a couple of aspirin.
    Ash was casually scanning the room, his sharp eyes absorbing the random items that gave a glimpse into her personal life. The World War II memoir on the end table with a Peanuts bookmark sticking out of it…a framed photo of her parents smiling over an anniversary cake…pink flip-flops sprinkled with white sand on the floor where she’d kicked them off…bottle of cocoa butter lotion on the coffee table.
    “I could be wrong, but I’m guessing your ex doesn’t know where you are since he hasn’t called here directly,” he deduced. “Your trespasser was probably just someone who had the wrong room. But we’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
    “You’re probably r-right,” she agreed, talking through her teeth so they didn’t chatter.
    He gave her a strange look. “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah. Just a little s-sunburn.” The arms folded over