Fan the Flames by Katie Ruggle Read Free Book Online

Phil said, ushering his girlfriend toward the door. “See you at the station, Ian.”
    â€œI thought you were going to buy me a gun,” the blond protested.
    â€œYou heard the owner,” Phil said, glancing over his shoulder as he opened the door and shooting Rory a wink. “There’s nothing with flair here.”
    His girlfriend’s response was lost as the door closed behind them.
    Ignoring Phil’s farewell and the pair’s departure, Ian leveled an impassive stare at Rory. “At least tell me if you were hurt.”
    â€œNo. I’m fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. The events of the previous night had pushed her sexy Ian dream to the back of her mind where it belonged. It was a relief to be able to talk normally to him again. “Whoever it was didn’t get past the front gate.”
    That seemed to calm him down a little, although a muscle in his cheek was still twitching with tension. “Good. Any idea who it was?”
    â€œMy main people of interest, Billy and Zup, denied it, so no.”
    Ian began pacing. “I don’t like it. First someone dumped that body in Mission Reservoir, and then Lou’s stalker burned her cabin and tried to kill Callum. And now someone’s lurking around your compound? Seriously bad sh—uh, stuff keeps happening around here.”
    â€œThe stalker is dead, though,” Rory said, attempting to make her tone soothing, but probably failing miserably. She’d never been very good at soothing. “Wasn’t he an ex-boyfriend of hers from back East? That has nothing to do with someone testing the lock on my gate.”
    He came to a stop and folded his arms across his chest, mirroring her stance. “I still don’t like you being out here by yourself.”
    She couldn’t hold back a laugh as she swung an arm, indicating the shop and all its contents. “Right. Me, by myself, with hundreds of guns, knives, and other weapons. I think I’ll be all right.”
    His gaze swept over the store, but he didn’t look any happier. “I wish you’d tell me where your apartment is. We’re friends. I should know where you live.”
    â€œYou do know where I live.”
    â€œI have a general idea. Friends should know specifically where their friends live. There are only two doors in the back room—that one,” he pointed to the opening between the front and back rooms, “and one that leads outside. Do you stay in the pole barn? In some pit you dug under the chicken coop?”
    â€œNo.” Her stomach jumped at the idea of anyone but her or her parents knowing about the underground bunker. That had been the first rule drilled into her head as a child: trust no one, not even friends. Not that she’d been allowed to have friends until her parents were gone.
    Not that she had any friends besides Ian.
    Trying to hide her panic, she turned the conversation toward him. “What’s with you, anyway? Why’d you come blasting in here, all crazed just because I had a wannabe trespasser?”
    He eyed her for a long moment, and she was worried that her distraction hadn’t worked. After a long silence, he finally spoke—although about a completely random topic. “I remember seeing you for the first time at the grocery store when we were kids.”
    That first meeting had been seared into her brain for over a decade. “It was my birthday.”
    He smiled. “You were just a tiny thing, like ten or something, and you were staring at this bakery display with huge eyes. From the look on your face, you’d have thought those cakes were magical.”
    Rory started to smile. “My parents hated going to the store. Everything we ate or wore was either homemade or grown or raised or traded with a neighbor. My mom loved Colorado peaches, though, and Harry, the guy who usually had the roadside stand—remember him?” Ian nodded. “He