by Chiah Wilder
“I didn’t even know there was one, but I think that would be best.”
“Do you need anything else?”
She laughed. “A stiff drink would be nice.”
“I can’t manage that, but what about an iced latte? We have a new coffee maker, and I’ve become quite the barista.”
Ashley smiled. “An iced latte sounds perfect.”
“Chocolate sprinkles?”
“A ton of them.”
Pearl’s smile shone bright and warm as she left the office.
Resting her head against the back of the chair, Ashley sighed. I can’t believe what just happened. First, that weirdo Mark and his sidekick, and now Brady. Am I a magnet for whack jobs? His parting words haunted her. She couldn’t figure out if he was threatening her, or telling her that she’d find out he was right about Smokey. Either way, she couldn’t go back to the shelter. It would be too uncomfortable and tense, and she’d always be looking over her shoulder. She hated abandoning the teens, but the situation with Brady had become unbearable. I can always find another charity, but I really liked working with the kids. I was starting to break through to Ian. He was the boy she’d seen that first day when she toured the center.
Pearl strolled through the door and toward the desk, placing a tall glass down on a coaster. “Here you are.”
“That looks amazing. Thanks bunches, Pearl.” She picked up the drink and took a sip. “That’s delicious.”
Pearl beamed. “It’s been fun playing around with the machine.” She held Ashley’s gaze. “And don’t you believe a word that man said about Mr. Harty. He’s a wonderful boss, a generous man, and a champion for the underdog. He’s good to his brother and mother, even though she won’t give him the time of day. He’s got a good heart, and that’s what’s important.”
Ashley didn’t know whether to be mortified that Pearl—and probably the whole office—heard Brady’s rant, or to hug her for sharing personal insight into Smokey.
“Follow your instincts and your heart. In my experience, neither of those two things have ever failed me.”
A warm glow spread through her as she watched Pearl disappear down the hall. The woman was a gem, and Ashley knew she held a special place in Smokey’s heart. She could hear it in his voice when he spoke about her.
Picking up the iced latte, she took another sip, grateful for the shot of caffeine to get her through the rest of the day.
Honking lines of geese flew in V-shaped wedges across the crimson sky, while the trees threw long purple shadows across the parking lot as Ashley walked toward her car. Waving goodbye to a yoga classmate, she tossed her duffel bag onto the passenger seat before slipping in behind the wheel.
As she was turning onto Spruce Street, her phone rang. Quickly glancing down at the screen, she groaned when she saw Zach’s name.
“Hi, Zach,” she said “What’s up? Another difficult client?”
He chuckled. “Not right now. Again, good job with the Wynhammer project. How did Smokey’s launch go?”
“Positive results so far, but it’s only the first day. I’ll have a good grasp on the performance in the next three.”
“Is he pleased with it?”
“I don’t know, seeing as he didn’t come in today. He’s been kind of hands-off with this whole project.”
“That’s typical. Unless you made it about motorcycles, his attention span is somewhat limited.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I agree that he’s obsessed with motorcycles—Harleys in particular—but he does have other interests. He’s very involved with charity fundraisers, he’s into nature, and, of course, he loves his work.”
“It sounds like you’ve enlisted in Smokey’s fan club. I hear all the other women who work for him are members.”
Coming to Smokey’s defense wasn’t a good move on her part. There was no way she wanted Zach to get an inkling about what had happened between them.
She forced out a laugh. “I didn’t know he had fan club. I’ve never been interested in joining anything that wasn’t work-related.”
An audible sigh of relief came across the line. “I was just kidding. I know you’re all work. Now, tell me what’s going on between you and the handymen.”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “They’re both weirdos, and I’m over them. I know Smokey will come in and finish the job.”
“Mark said you were yelling at him and Gage. He said you were out of control.”
“Of course he’d say that. I’m sure he didn’t mention that he just showed up, even though I’ve asked him about a million times to make an appointment with me before coming over. For some reason, he just won’t do it, and then he gets pissed off when I tell him to leave because I won’t be home. And I bet he didn’t mention I almost ran him and Gage down. They were standing in the middle of my driveway when I was backing out of the garage. Who the hell does that?”
“Have you always had problems with repairmen?”
“Oh, please, Zach. I’ve never had any problems like this before, because I’ve dealt with normal people, not a couple of looneys.”
“He’d be finished by now if you’d just give him a key to the house.”
Ashley gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I’d never give a key to my residence to anyone who wasn’t a friend or relative. And if you decide to do that, I’m moving out.”
“Whoa—hang on. You really are upset about this. Okay, I’ll talk to Mark and tell him he has to go through you to set up future appointments.”
She loosened her grip on the steering wheel. “Thank you.” Just then, the beep from an incoming call drew her gaze to the screen. Her stomach fluttered. Smokey. “I have to go, Zach. I have a client calling.”
“Okay. Bye.”
She swiped up. “Hello?”
“Hi, darlin’.” His voice had a low, sexy timbre.
“Hi. How are you?”
“Fine. I had some stuff that kept me busy all day. Don’t tell me you’re still at work.”
“No, I’m heading home. I went to yoga class, and I was thinking of stopping by the market to pick up a Cobb salad.”
A low chuckle vibrated through the phone. “You’re the fuckin’ queen of takeout. I’ll pick up pizza and salad on my way over.”
“I like that plan.”
“Text me what you want on your half of the pizza. I’ll be there in an hour.”
Passing by the market, she smiled. “Okay.”
“I missed you last night,” he said quietly.
“Me too.”
“See you soon.”
Joy shot through her like a flaming arrow as she put her phone down. All her misgivings and worry evaporated in an instant. Her evening had suddenly turned into something wonderful and romantic, and she couldn’t wait to be back in Smokey’s arms.
Turning into her driveway, she scanned the area for any suspicious people. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, she pressed the opener and pulled into the garage. With her gaze fixed on the rearview mirror, she closed the door, then grabbed the duffel bag and got out of the car.
She headed straight to the laundry room and put her yoga clothes into the hamper, then ambled into the bathroom to shower and change. After a while, she emerged wearing shorts and a loose top that set off her dark hair. She padded into the foyer and scooped up the mail that had fallen to the floor. Checking the slot for any stuck envelopes, she retrieved two large cardboard flyers that were jammed inside: one for discounted tires, another for life insurance.
After dropping the mail onto the coffee table, she went into the kitchen and poured a glass of white wine before making herself comfortable on the couch. Rifling through the mail, she saw a medium-sized manila envelope. There was no return address. It was just her name, printed on a label, with no other markings. Opening it, she pulled out a folded, single notebook page. Unfolding the paper, she sucked in a breath as she read I’M WATCHING YOU, the ominous message typed in bold, black and red letters. Turning the envelope upside do
wn, several pictures fell out.
Her blood froze.
She stared at snapshots of her and Smokey. The photos showed them kissing, embracing, talking on the porch, standing in front of the family room window, and at the curb by his motorcycle. There were also a few pictures of her in the grocery store, walking inside the yoga center, and coming out of the office building.
“No,” she whispered, hearing the tremor in her voice.
Her hands shaking, the pictures fluttered to the floor. For a second, she couldn’t catch her breath.
Then she heard it: a scraping noise against the front door.
“The alarm—I forgot to set it!” Leaping from the couch, she scrambled to the foyer. With trembling fingers, she punched in the code, relief washing over her when the system activated.
Again, the noise. Though this time, it sounded more like footsteps running down the steps. It was like someone had been watching her through the window.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, too afraid to look out, but knowing she had to.
Stumbling to the window, she pulled the sheer curtain aside, only to look out at an empty street. I know I heard footsteps. Someone’s watching me—I know it. I have to call the police. No, they think I’m imagining all this. Smokey. I’ll—
Brrring!
The jarring sound of the landline from the kitchen startled her.
Heart pounding wildly, Ashley slowly walked toward the kitchen. No one but Zach ever called on that phone. Wait, Mark has the number. He’s called me a few times on it.
Brrring!
Her hand hovered over the receiver.
Brrring!
“Hello?” she answered, expecting to hear Zach’s voice.
Silence.
Pushing the fear away, she repeated, “Hello?”
“How did you like my package?” a male voice whispered in a low, sexy voice.
“Who is this?”
A deep chuckle echoed over the line. “Someone who is going to make sure you get what you deserve.”
“Mark, I know it’s you.” But she didn’t know that. In fact, it didn’t sound like Mark at all, but she was grasping at straws while trying to keep the panic clawing at her chest at bay.
“You need to try harder, Ashley.” The voice wasn’t menacing or cruel. It was seductive, almost caressing.
“Why are you doing this? Leave me alone,” she said, trying to keep her voice from cracking.
“I’m not going to leave you alone, Ashley. I have some very special plans for you.”
“I’m calling the police.”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” A husky laugh filled her ears. “I’m watching you.”
The line went dead. The voice on the phone echoed through her head as terror engulfed her. She dashed over to the control box again and double-checked the alarm. Rushing back to the family room, she glanced out the window to make sure no one was there. The street was still empty and quiet. Darting over to the couch, she picked up her cell phone and dialed Smokey’s number.
“Hey, darlin’,” he answered in a husky voice.
“Someone’s watching me,” she blurted out.
“What do you mean?” Concern wove through his tone.
“He just called me. He said he’s watching me. He knew I got the pictures, so that proves he is watching me. I don’t know what to do.”
“Is the alarm on?”
“Yes. I just checked it again. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Stay put. If something happens, call the badges. I’m on my way.”
“Okay. Please hurry,” she whispered.
“I’m getting on my bike now, darlin’. I’ll be there soon.”
Ashley sank down on the couch and stared at the wall as she waited for Smokey to arrive. The stranger’s voice played in her head over and over, as if stuck on rewind. Clasping her hands tightly in her lap, she counted down the minutes until Smokey showed.
It didn’t even feel as though that much time had passed before she heard the rumble of Smokey’s motorcycle. Jumping from the couch, she ran to the door and peered out the window. As soon as she saw his Harley pull up in front of the house, she disengaged the alarm and flung open the door.
Smokey hurried up the sidewalk, and when he walked into the foyer, she collapsed into his arms, hugging him tight.
“Ashley,” he murmured, hugging her just as tightly.
In his arms, she felt safe and cherished.
Breaking away, he stared deeply into her eyes. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
“Let’s go into the family room.”
When he settled on the couch, she handed him the photos and the notebook page. “This was put in my mail slot. I found it when I got home from yoga. Then, I got a call from whoever sent these pictures. He must’ve known I was here. He’s watching me.” Her voice hitched.
Throwing the photographs onto the table, he slipped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her close.
“Did you recognize his voice?”
“Not really. He was whispering, so it was hard to tell if I knew him or not. I keep replaying the conversation over and over in my head, but I’m not sure. I must know him, right? Why would a stranger be doing this to me? I haven’t even been in town long. This doesn’t make any sense.” A small sob broke loose from her throat.
“I’m here, Ashley. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he whispered, grazing his lips over her temple, down her cheek, and across her mouth.
She snuggled into him, resting her head on his chest. The steady thrumming of his heart was reassuring, and his muscular arms wrapped around her made her feel safe.
“I’ve gotta know everything so I can figure this out and help you.”
She raised her head and looked up at him. “I told you what happened.”
“Darlin’, somethin’ hasn’t been right since you got here. Like the flat tire, and that dude in the lot at the Buckhorn. You need to tell me without holding anything back.”
Sighing, she pulled away and tucked her legs underneath her. “A lot of scary shit has happened to me since I’ve been here, but it really started in Denver several years ago.”
He placed his hand over hers. “Go on.”
“It all started when my old boss, Jeffrey Elion, decided to embezzle a shit ton of money from the company.”
For the next hour, Ashley told her story, leaving out no detail. Smokey stayed silent as the words spilled out. After she’d finished, he drew her to him, telling her that everything would be all right, and that he would take care of her.
And she believed him.
No longer was she alone in this battle.
Smokey was there, and he wasn’t going anywhere.
20
Ping! Ping! Ping!
Smokey’s eyes snapped open. There was a noise at the window across from the bed. Straining his ears, he listened closely. There it was again: three distinct taps against the window. A tapping like rain, or even hail.
There was an interval of silence, long enough for Smokey to dismiss it as a twig swiping against the glass. Glancing over at the nightstand next to Ashley, he looked at the luminous numbers on the alarm clock. Three o’clock in the morning. The noise didn’t wake her up. She was sound asleep, her breathing shallow.
Then, several more pings, louder and harder than the others. Jerking into a sitting position, he slid out of bed and walked over to the window. Peeking out of one of the slats, he saw it wasn’t raining. Something’s going on.
He grabbed his boxers and jeans off the chair and slipped them on, then pulled on his boots. Picking up his jacket, he reached inside the pocket and took out his Glock 19.
“Where are you going?” Ashley mumbled softly, sleep muffling her tone.
Turning around, he found her sitting up in bed, her hair mussed, holding the sheet over her naked tits. A shaft of moonlight fell across her face, highlighting her surprised expression as she stared at him.
“I want to c
heck something out.”
She looked over at the clock. “At this hour?”
Walking toward her, Smokey leaned over and stroked the side of her face. “I heard something outside, and I’m going to check it out.”
“What did you hear?”
“Something against the window. It’s probably tree branches, but I wanna make sure.”
“And you’re taking a gun? Wait … why do you have a gun with you?”
He smiled. “I’m in an outlaw club, remember? I’ll be back soon.”
Ashley grabbed his arm. “I want to go with you.”
“No, you stay here until I get back. I’ll put the alarm on when I leave.”
“I don’t want you to go. You may get hurt.”
Caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers, he said, “Don’t worry—I’ll be fine.” Hugging her close, the sheet fell down, and her bare tits crushed against him, making his cock jerk. He kissed her then pulled away. On top of the nightstand, he picked up a knife and pushed it into his left boot, then crossed the room to the control box to disarm the alarm. Smokey looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with Ashley, her bottom lip quivering. Fuck.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“Promise?” she whispered.
Going over to her again, he kissed her. “Promise.” Opening the door, he said over his shoulder, “Stay inside, and don’t turn the alarm off, no matter what.”
“Okay,” she replied in a shaky voice. “Be safe.”
“I will.”
Closing the door behind him, Smokey made his way to the foyer. He plugged in the security code, opened the door, and slowly closed it behind him as he stepped outside. Moving into the shadowy corner of the porch, he stared out into the darkness and the empty street. Nothing was amiss. The feeling that someone was out there didn’t ease, so he continued to scan the area, looking for any signs of movement.
Seconds turned into minutes, and Smokey hadn’t moved an inch. Then he heard it. A noise like someone crawling. It’s coming from the bushes near the garage. Fixing his gaze in that direction, he waited. The noise grew louder, more frenzied, and still he waited, not moving a muscle, focusing his attention on the cluster of bushes. Maybe it’s a racoon or a skunk. But his gut told him otherwise, and it never failed him.