Live for Me (Hallow Ranch)

Chapter Five

Abbie

Present Day. Denver, CO.

“Abbie, listen to me,” Dave said, sitting in front of me, putting his warm hands on my shoulders.

I shook my head. “I don’t have the time for this. I have a—”

“—a deadline?” my best friend quipped. “That’s old news, Abbie. You are always on a fucking deadline. There is always something on your to do list. You don’t get to use that excuse anymore.” His grip tightened slightly, squeezing in a loving way. “You need to call the police.”

If I had the energy to roll my eyes into the back of my head, I would. However, today was a big day, and I didn’t have the time. It had been two weeks since my stalker broke into my home and I’d just gotten back from Chicago for a story. I hadn’t even been in the house for two minutes before Dave laid into me.

I shook my head. “The police would be no help. You and I both know that.”

“We don’t—”

I jerked out of his hold. “We do know that, Dave. Do you not recall the last time this happened?” I asked, my voice growing louder with each word as my composure broke. My carry on clattered to the floor as my words bounced off the white and black tiles and dark green walls of my foyer. Dave’s throat bobbed as he stared at me as the memory resurfaced for both of us.

I did what I was supposed to do. I called the cops. I depended on the men and women in blue to help me—to protect me--and they didn’t. They took my information and the gifts my stalker had left at my office, then nothing. They had no leads. They didn’t offer to put an officer on my job site. Then again, I wasn’t important enough for that. I wasn’t a celebrity. I wasn’t one of Denver’s elite.

I was just Abbie Spears, daughter of a town whore and drug addict.

“Abbie—”

I let out a huff, holding my hand up. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I did all I could. I got the security system, I got the cameras installed all around the house and in it, and I bought a gun. There’s nothing else I can do. I don’t know who this man is, don’t know what the hell he wants with me, and I don’t know how to stop it.” He jerked, but I kept going, seething now. “There is no one who can stop him, Dave. Not you. Not me. Not your boyfriend. Certainly not the cops.”

“Red Snake Investigations,” he blurted out suddenly as I turned my back to him.

I looked over my shoulder. “What the hell are you talking about, Dave?” I asked. I bent over, grabbing my carry on and rolled it into the living room, heading straight for my bedroom. Today had been the day from hell, and even though it was only two in the afternoon, all I wanted was a hot shower and to go to bed. I was halfway across the living room when Dave called out to my back.

“They are bounty hunters, Abbie.”

I stopped in my tracks, a chill going down my spine. Slowly, I turned back to face him, my chest tight. “What in the hell would a bounty hunter do for me?”

“Hunt your goddamn stalker!” he bellowed, throwing his arms out wide before shoving his hands into his hair.

I stared at him, not knowing what to say. All I knew was I needed to be alone. “Do you have their number?” I asked after a few minutes of strained silence.

Surprise fluttered over his face. “Y-yeah, of course,” he murmured, his outburst fading away as he pulled out his wallet, pushing out a business card.

I leaned my bag against the couch and held out my hand as I made my way to him. The card was thick—expensive, the logo something I didn’t expect. It was target with two red snakes back to back, not coiled together. My eyes dropped to the number, noting they also had an office in North Carolina. My eyes flicked up to Dave, and I let out a sigh. “Okay, I’ll give them a call—-on one condition.”

He nodded. “Anything.”

“You need to leave.”

His brow furrowed. “Abbie, you’re bat shit crazy if you think I’m leaving you—”

“Your place has been fixed for over a week, he hasn’t come back, and as previously stated: I’m armed and the house is locked down.”

“But—”

“Please,” I rasped, my voice suddenly weak.

I was so close to breaking again. It had been two weeks, and I would be damned if I was going to break in front of someone. So, I swallowed the pain and the fear and said, “I’ve been traveling for the last twelve hours. I need a shower and food. I’ve also been around people for the last seventy-two hours, and my social battery is non-existent. I need to re-charge. I need to…” I trailed off, looking away from him and out the window, the beautiful summer day passing me by as my life continued to fall apart.

I felt Dave’s soft finger under my chin, and then I was looking at him again. Dave could piss me off to no end and there were definitely days when I wanted to kill him, but I loved him. I loved him so much, it hurt. I knew if I ever lost Dave, I would be losing a piece of myself no one would ever be able to replace.

“If that’s what you need, then you have it,” he murmured, giving me a small smile.

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth in a poor attempt to stop the lump from forming in my throat as I nodded. A second later, his lips were against my forehead, the spot still warm as he whispered. “Call them today please. That’s all I ask.”

I nodded again.

I could do that. I didn’t know what would come of it, but making a phone call to Red Snake Investigations wouldn’t hurt me.

What was the worst that could happen? My life was already a shit show anyways.

A man with a deep voice answered on the fourth ring. “Red Snake Investigations. This is Ash.”

I stared down at the business card in my lap for a moment. “Uh. Hi.”

“How can I help you?” he asked, all business.

Licking my lips, I closed my eyes and braced. “I was needing…uh…a bounty hunter.”

The man was silent.

I cleared my throat, knowing this was the second stupidest thing I’d ever done in my life. Who in the hell calls a bounty hunter for a stalker?

“Miss?” the man—Ash—called out gently.

“Uh, yes. Yes, I’m still here.”

“Why are you in need of a bounty hunter?” he asked, his voice still gentle.

My heart jumped. I hadn’t expected gentle, and I sure as shit didn’t get gentle when I was crying to the cops. “Do—you—or are you the bounty hunter that would be taking my…case?” I asked, flipping the card around in my hands.

“We have a team of them, miss. Any one of us could be assigned to it.” The man chuckled, the sound reminding me of a certain cowboy’s rough, addicting chuckle. I felt heat bloom in my cheeks as memories of Beau rushed to the surface, throwing me off balance as I stood.

I reached out, grabbing the back of the couch, Beau’s blue eyes flashing in my mind.

“ Sweet fucking Monet ,” I pushed out, suddenly breathless.

Why was he invading my memories now? After six years of shoving him down? Was this some sick way for the universe to torture me?

“Excuse me?” Ash said.

I threw the card out before slapping my hand to my forehead as it fluttered to the floor of my living room. This was such a dumb idea, but there was no turning back now. I already had the poor man on the phone. “Right,” I breathed out, letting my hand fall. It slapped the side of my thigh as I word vomited everything to this kind stranger on the other end of the phone. “I have a stalker. It’s not a new one or anything. In fact, he’s the only one I’ve ever had, but apparently, lots of people have them. I just never thought I’d be important enough to have one, but anyway…yeah, I—uh--have a stalker, and my friend gave me your card and told me to call because the cops didn’t help me when I called them a year ago about him.” I sucked in a breath, waiting for a response, but it never came, which made me feel dumber than I already had, thus forcing me to ramble some more. “Which was fine, you know, cops are busy and all. However, the stalker found me again, and I thought I’d lost him, but two weeks ago, he came into my house while I was in the shower. I heard him and—”

“Miss, take a breath for me,” Ash ordered softly, cutting off my ramble.

Of course, he didn’t want to hear this sad story. What good could he do?

He couldn’t help me. No one could. Not the cops, not the bounty hunters. Pain sliced through my gut and I nodded, accepting that I was all alone in this. “You’re right,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to waste your time. Bounty hunters don’t go after stalkers. I’m so sorry again.”

I pulled the phone away from my face and ended the call, tears welling in my eyes. The dam had broken, and I didn’t even make it into my bedroom before I completely broke, falling to my knees in the hall, a wretched cry leaving my lungs.

My life wasn’t supposed to be like this.

As a little girl, before my innocence was taken from me and I was shown the truth of the world, I believed I was a princess. I believed in fairytales and happy endings. I believed I would grow up to be loved, that I would be happy.

Then, I turned five years old, and I had to grow up.

No one was coming to save me, and I had to accept that.

Three days later. Denver Tribune Office.

“Delivery for you, Miss Spears,” Jamie called out to me from the hall.

I looked up from my interview notes, chills dotting down my spine like Morse code as the floor secretary smiled at me from the doorway. After a few moments, when I hadn’t responded, she tilted her head to the side, concern masking her features. “Miss Spears?”

I blinked, snapping out of it and clearing my throat. I gave her an apologetic smile, pushing my chair back. “Sorry, it’s been a long morning,” I told her, rounding my desk. “Where is it?”

“The delivery man is at my desk. He needs a signature,” she explained as we walked down the hall together, passing the other small offices and the even smaller cubicles meshed in the middle of the floor, the comforting clicking of keyboards louder than the hushed whispers flowing throughout the space. I moved into the lobby, the marble floors pristine as my eyes landed on a young delivery man. He couldn’t be more than twenty-one. There was an impressive display of white and yellow roses on the desk in front of him, a small box beside it.

My heart warmed, knowing who the flowers were from. Dave. Those were his signature: white and yellow roses. He sent them to me multiple times throughout the year, mainly for holidays and birthdays, but this was a nice surprise. He was doing this to be kind, an attempt to lift my spirits.

I approached the delivery man with a smile and a soft greeting before he confirmed my identity and held out the tablet for my signature.

“These are lovely,” the secretary, Anna, murmured as she took her seat.

“They always are,” I told her as the delivery man gave me a smile and walked away. I leaned in, smelling the flowers as I closed my eyes.

I had no idea what I did to deserve a friend like Dave, but I was so grateful for him. With that thought on my mind, I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text.

Me: Thank you for the roses. They were just what I needed. You want to grab a drink after work? Harris can join!

Once my phone was put away, I grabbed the crystal vase and the small box, murmuring a goodbye to Anna before heading back to my office. I set the flowers on the small table by the window, appreciating the light and color they provided in my small workspace before taking my seat and looking at the small present that came with it.

This was new.

Dave had never given me a present with flowers, but then again, this was Dave being the kind-hearted, warm, loving friend he’d always been.

The present was wrapped in a delicate yellow paper with a lace bow on top. Slowly, I pulled the blow apart and carefully removed the wrapping paper to reveal a black box with tape.

I opened my top drawer, ignoring my work for now to grab the box cutter, feeling myself smile as I wondered what it could be. Perhaps it was another paperweight. He knew I collected funky ones, the ones you’d find deep within an old antique store. As I opened the box, my smile faded as my eyes grew wide, fear coiling around my neck like a viper, squeezing the life out of me. I shot out of my seat, a scream lodged in my throat as a sweat broke out on my forehead, my eyes never leaving the gift.

I stumbled back, not stopping until I was against the window, my chest heaving as tears welled in my eyes, stinging. My gut twisted painfully, and when I finally managed to peel my eyes from the present, my head snapped over to the flowers, focusing on the card sticking from the top. I moved then, snatching it up as the vase wobbled back and forth. My fingers were shaking as I tore at the small envelope, my breath unsteady.

My hand flew to my mouth as I read the note, and I threw it away from me as if it had burned my fingers. I stepped back, slamming into the wall as I watched it land on the corner of my desk, the words written in blood red ink.

Sobs, violent and overwhelming, took over then as I bought my knees up and began rocking back and forth.

There was truly no one who could help me now.

I was his prisoner in a cage made by my own hand.

I closed my eyes, trying to get the image of his gift out of my mind as my cell phone buzzed. My head shot up and I scrambled to get it out of my pocket, whimpering when I saw Dave’s text on my screen.

Dave: I didn’t send you any flowers, Abbie…

I looked up to the ceiling, a feeling of hopelessness settling on my shoulders. I knew he was watching me; he could see my tears, see my fear. I knew he probably enjoyed it—the sick bastard.

A few minutes passed, and when a knock came to my door, I cleared my throat and got to my feet. One of our photographers for the newspaper, Aaron, was here to give me my photos for another story I’d been working on. “You alright, Abbie?” he asked, stepping into my office as I grabbed the card and box off the table, setting them in my chair.

I wiped my cheeks. “Yes,” I breathed. “It’s just been an emotional day, that’s all.”

Aaron’s eyes shot over to the flowers and then back to me. “Those are pretty,” he noted.

I looked back to them, cursing that they were in fact, stunning. I plastered a smile on my face before looking at him again. “Aren’t they? My best friend had them delivered to me, and I just…got emotional,” I explained, waving it off. “Anyways, you got those photos for me?”

He nodded, holding out a flash drive. “Yup. Let me know if you want me to tweak the brightness a bit, yeah?”

I took the drive, holding it close. “I’m sure I won’t need to. Your work is always good.”

Aaron gave me a closed-mouth smile. “Thanks, Abbie. I’ll let you get back to it.”

As he walked out of my office, my cell phone started ringing, and I jumped, my hand flying to my chest. I blindly pulled it out of my baby pink pants, keeping my eyes on the box in my chair.

“This is Abbie.”

Dave’s voice flooded my ear. “What flowers are you talking about?”

My eyes flicked to the note, focusing on the last three words.

Or they die.

Or.

They.

Die.

I released the breath I’d been holding, mentally preparing myself to fake it as my eyes lifted to the gift in the box. “Yeah, sorry. It was a mix up at work,” I lied, laughing it off. “They were for Abbie down in marketing.”

“Oh, I see. Well, are you still down to grab a drink after work? Harris hasn’t seen you in a minute, and maybe we could get the gang together?” he asked, hopeful.

Knives gathered in my throat as I pushed out, “Yeah, we can do that. Sounds wonderful.” A tear fell onto my cheek as Dave took this opportunity to tell me about this morning.

I didn’t hear a word.

I was too busy staring at the gift: a photo of all of us, taken last year at a Christmas party. Lying beside it, wrapped in individual ribbons, were bundles of their hair, each labeled with their name.

Brown for Dave

Blonde for Hannah.

Red for Becca.

A dark, almost black, for Tim.

And for good measure, my stalker also had a lock of Harris’ bleached hair tied to Dave’s.

I looked around my office, realizing that dream I’d made a reality was now a nightmare, one I could never wake up from.