Live for Me (Hallow Ranch)

Chapter Thirteen

Beau

I folded myself out of the truck as soon as Mason put it in park on the street in front of Abbie’s house.

There were two police officers standing on the front porch, talking with a man in a suit with a purple plaid tie. He looked over to us for a moment, and then his eyes slid over to Dave’s Audi, which pulled in behind Mason’s truck. Denver slammed the passenger side door as his boots hit the ground and he looked back at me, his gray eyes flashing with anger as Dave and Abbie walked up. Dave had his arm wrapped around her, guiding her down the sidewalk. She had her eyes on the ground, looking lost.

The sight gutted me.

Mason rounded the front of his Chevy, putting on his hat before lifting his chin to me. “We going in with her or not?”

Silently, I moved, my boots hitting the sidewalk, following Dave and Abbie. In the daylight, her neighborhood looking like something out of a magazine. Every single house was different, each one having their own unique character. The lawns were trimmed, the sidewalks clear. A few front yards had some toys scattered across the bright green grass. A Black couple stood in the yard next to Abbie’s, looks of concern on their faces. As Dave turned Abbie to head up the driveway, the man stepped forward.

“Abbie? Are you alright?” he called.

The woman beside him looked over to Denver, Mason, and me, her eyes cautious.

Abbie twisted her neck, saying something to the man and then greeting the woman. The couple looked at each other in horror, and suddenly, they were crossing their driveway and wrapping her in a warm, welcoming embrace. As I drew closer, I listened in on their conversation and looked to the front porch, tipping my hat to the officers and who I assumed was Dave’s partner.

“We just got back from New York,” the woman said. “Our plane landed this morning. Goodness, Abbie, I’m so sorry.”

Abbie said nothing, and I didn’t have to look at her to know she was probably nodding through her tears.

“Were your security cameras on last night?” Dave asked them. “Do you think—”

“Abbie has her own security system,” I cut in, stepping forward and tipping my hat to the couple. “Though if your cameras could give a better angle, it would be appreciated if we could take a look.”

All four pairs of eyes landed on me, and I felt the Langston brothers coming up behind me.

“I don’t have any cameras, Beau,” Abbie said, her voice thick as her brows came together in confusion.

“You’ve had cameras since yesterday morning,” I returned, looking to the couple and holding my hand out. “Beau Marks.”

The man took my hand. “Marcus Jackson,” he introduced, giving my hand a shake. “This is my wife, Alisha.”

I tipped my hat to her as Abbie asked, “How did you—what do you mean I have cameras?”

“Red Snake Investigations installed them,” I told her.

She looked up, studying me as if I’d grown two heads. “I didn’t hire them.”

“I did.”

Those pretty pink lips of hers parted as her face softened in disbelief, but I didn’t have the patience to enjoy it. I was moving then, Denver and Mason flanking me as we made our way up the steps. I held my hand out to the man in suit. “Beau Marks. I assume you’re Harris, Dave’s partner.”

Harris was a few inches shorter than Dave and had a round face. He also looked like he’d seen a ghost. “I, uh, y—you’re Beau? The Beau?”

I raised an eyebrow, and Denver muttered something underneath his breath. “Yes,” I answered, not knowing how to feel about this stranger knowing who I was.

Did he have the answers I didn’t?

Did he know why Abbie left my heart in pieces with a ring in my hand?

Did she tell her friends the truth? Or did she paint me in a different light?

“Are you the owner of the residence, sir?”

I peeled my gaze from Harris, focusing on the officers. Abbie appeared beside me then. “No, he’s not. That’s me,” she answered.

The officer on the left stepped to the side, revealing the damaged front door. “We’ll need you to make a statement once you’re done. Try to make a note of everything that’s been damaged, for insurance purposes,” he instructed in a monotone.

Dave was standing beside Harris now, murmuring something to him in a low voice. I looked at Abbie. She was staring into her house, trembling. I moved then, getting in front of her and hooking my finger under her chin. “Look at me,” I murmured roughly. Those brown eyes met mine, shining with tears. “You want me and the boys to go in first? You can stay out here with Dave and Harris.”

She blinked, swallowing. “I have to see it,” she rasped.

I tilted my head slowly. “I can see it for you, Abbie. You don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to.”

“We can take a look, assess the damage, and go from there,” Denver said, his voice soft.

Abbie looked over at him, and the next words out of her mouth rocked me to my core, down to the bottom of my broken soul. “Why are you here if you hate me?” she whispered.

I stiffened.

Denver’s brows snapped together, and before he could respond, she pulled away from me and looked at Mason. “Neither of you belong here. Neither of you give a damn about me or what happens to me. I don’t understand why the both of you are here. Leave.” Her eyes shot to mine, an unfamiliar coldness lingering within them. “All of you. Leave.”

Then turned to the doorway and stepped inside without another word.

The broken glass from her living room window crunched underneath my boots as I surveyed the walls, noting how all her pictures and art had been ripped from them, the frames and canvases thrown all over the floor and furniture. The cushions of her couch had been slashed open, most likely with the discarded butcher knife laying on the coffee table. There was a message etched into the wood.

Come back to me, Abbie.

My jaw tightened to the point of pain, and I allowed it to shoot up my temple, letting it throb for a few seconds before I relaxed it.

“He’s lashing out,” Mason noted. I looked over to find him standing behind her love seat, his eyes on the message. “He feels out of control, and this was a way to get her back in line.”

“He feels like he’s lost her,” Denver concluded as he walked into the living room from the kitchen. He rolled his neck and adjusted his hat, a deep sigh coming from his nose. “If she stays here, she’ll be a sitting duck. He wants full control now. This isn’t just about scaring her anymore.”

“Her staying here was never an option in the first place,” I stated firmly. My eyes bounced back and forth between them. “She is coming back to Hallow Ranch. If you boys have a fucking problem with that, tell me now, and I’ll find somewhere else to take her.”

Denver’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Abbie knows she isn’t welcome, and she can fucking feel it,” I bit off through clenched teeth.

“She hurt you, Beau,” Mason said bluntly, his tone forcing me to look at him. “She nearly destroyed you.”

“Her life is more important than my fucking feelings,” I clipped.

“We know that. However, the fact remains. You’re part of our family. She’s not,” Denver said, folding his arms over his chest. He looked into my eyes, his face set. “You claiming her again? Is that what this is?”

A muscle in my cheek jumped as I glared at him.

No, I wasn’t fucking claiming her again, even though it was the only thing I wanted.

I wanted Abbie Spears. Always had and always would.

But that didn’t mean I could have her.

Watching her walk away from me earlier— that nearly killed me. I was going to let her go. I had my mind made up. She would leave me a second time, and I was ready to hire Red Snake. They could handle it, protect her in the ways she didn’t want me to. She would’ve been safe.

But seeing her walk away for a second time caused something to snap inside me. As Dave pulled out of Hallow Ranch, my heart took over. Suddenly, I was back in the saddle, snapping the reins, chasing after her —like I should’ve done all those years ago. I should’ve never let her walk away from me; from the life we promised each other. I should’ve fought for her, demanded answers….

That was in the past now, just like that fucking kiss. I’d made my bed, and she made hers.

I would protect her until we found her stalker, and then we would go our separate ways.

As much as my brain wanted to let this go, that just wasn’t the kind of man I was.

I was a cowboy.

Cowboys protected their women, brokenhearted or not.

“I’m protecting her because of who she was to me. That’s all,” I answered them. “I’m asking you to accept that. If you can’t, I’ll step away from Hallow Ranch for the time being.”

“Like hell you are,” Denver grunted. He shot a look to Mason. “Quit being petty.”

“Not petty,” Mason mused. “Just blunt.”

His older brother sighed as he looked up to the ceiling. “Pains in my damn ass, every last fucking one of them,” he muttered. Finally, when he was done complaining about his cowboys, he said, “She can stay. She is welcome at Hallow Ranch for as long as she needs. However, I don’t think she is going to be comfortable staying with Mason and Harm or in the bunkhouse. Val and I don’t have the room.”

I nodded, disappointment hitting me. “We can find someplace in town—”

“You and she can take the cabin,” Denver declared, stroking his beard.

I blinked. “You mean the hunting cabin that burned down in the fire Val was in?” I asked as a gentle reminder.

Mason chuckled, and Denver’s lips twitched, shooting a humorous look back to his brother. “Glad to know our ranch still has secrets.”

“Oh, there’s still plenty that needs to come to light,” Mase drawled.

“What the hell are you two talking about? What fucking cabin?”

Denver looked back at me. “The cabin my father built for yours.”

I said nothing, staring at my friend in shock.

“It was after your mom,” Mason added softly.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I whispered, something cracking open inside my chest.

Denver stepped forward, putting his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll talk about it later. You need to go help Abbie.”

In that second, Dave came into the living room, devastation coating him. He looked at me behind his glasses. “Beau, you need to see this.”

I moved, my footfalls echoing through the living room as the cowboys behind me fell silent. “What is it?” I demanded lowly.

Dave looked gutted, his cheeks shining with leftover tears. “She won’t leave her art room.”

I bit down, grinding my teeth as looked down the hall, my eyes focusing on the small doorway at the end on the left. When I was here the other night, it was only shut door in her house. I didn’t bother going in there to grab anything, knowing what sat inside. Her soul.

Without saying another word, I slowly walked down the hallway. As I reached the doorway, I bent my head and removed my hat, holding it to my chest as I took in the sight.

Abbie was on her knees, her back to me, in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the damaged pieces of her soul. My throat tightened as I took a second to survey the damage. There was red paint slashed across all her walls, paint supplies, and empty canvases. The small window to the right of her, which gave her a good view of the mountains, was smeared with red paint, a message across within it.

Come back, or I’ll destroy everything you love.

My brows snapped together, and slowly, I looked back down at her, watching her shoulders shake in time with her quiet sobs. I stepped into the room, careful to not step on any of her paintbrushes scattered across the floor. As I came around to her front, I spotted the small, wrapped canvas clutched to her chest.

“Abbie,” I murmured after a few long, silent minutes, not taking her eyes off her face.

She wasn’t looking at me. Her focus was on the group of huge canvases—her finished projects—leaning against the far wall, all splattered with that damned red paint.

“Those are her commissions.”

My eyes snapped up to find Dave standing in the doorway, wiping his tears, his partner, Harris standing beside him. I nodded and looked back down to her, noticing how white her knuckles were wrapped around the canvas she clutched to her chest.

“Abbie,” I whispered, lowering down to my haunches, putting my hat back on.

She said nothing, staring straight ahead, another tear silently escaping her eye. It cascaded down her already-wet cheek, dipping underneath her soft jaw before rolling down her neck and disappearing. There were a few stray hairs sticking to her tear-stained cheeks, her skin splotchy, eyes red-rimmed.

“We have to go,” I tried again, ignoring the pain and fury coursing through my veins as the threat written on the window burned into my brain.

She blinked, swallowing. “Okay.”

“That means you have to get up, alright?”

Those warm brown eyes snapped over to me, allowing me to see the utter devastation swimming in them. “I have nothing left,” she whispered.

Her words struck me, hitting me directly in my broken, hopeless heart. My face relaxed, shock and sadness washing over me like a summer rain. “That’s not true,” I whispered back.

God, I wanted to touch her .

I wanted to reach out and cup her wet face, to spend the rest of eternity wiping her tears.

But that wasn’t an option.

My eyes dropped down to the wrapped art piece against her chest. “You can take that back to Hallow Ranch,” I said. She looked at me again, her eyes wide. I gestured around the room. “All of this can go.” She began to shake her head, but my next sentence stopped her. “He’ll never touch your art again, Abbie.”

“Abbie, the police need to take photos,” Dave said gently from the doorway.

She bent her head, her hair falling around her like a curtain. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I heard heavy footfalls coming down the hall then, and a second later, Denver appeared behind the couple. He jerked his chin to me. “Ash is here.”

I nodded. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Denver’s gray eyes scanned the room, growing harder and colder with each passing second. When he was done, he shot me a look before disappearing back down the hall.

“Who is Ash?” Harris asked.

My eyes met his. “Ash works with Red Snake Investigations. He’s going to help us find this fucker,” I vowed darkly as I rose to my full height. I looked back down at Abbie, thankful to find her looking up at me. “You have my word.”

She said nothing and looked away from me, sniffling.

I sighed through my nose and carefully made my way back to her friends. They backed into the hallway, giving me room. I looked at Dave. “She isn’t going to listen to me,” I began gruffly, “but she will listen to you.” My eyes slid over to Harris. “Both of you.”

Dave got the hint. “I’ll get her out of there.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. She’s damn lucky to have friends like you, and I’m thankful for that.” I turned, ready to go talk to Ash, but Dave’s kind voice stopped me.

“You still love her, don’t you?”

I looked over my shoulder, jaw tight. “You already know the answer to that, Dave,” I answered, my voice firm.

He looked back into her art room and then back to me. “I wish—”

“—wishing won’t change anything between us,” I told him, cutting him off. Then, I was moving back down the hall and into the living room.

Ash was standing in her kitchen, wearing black cargo pants and a dark gray thermal, a gun strapped to his hip. His face was coated with anger as he questioned the officers. As I got closer, I heard that anger laced through his voice. “Are you boys aware Ms. Spears contacted the police twice about her stalker?” he clipped, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He held out a file to the officers. “Maybe the boys in blue need to take this shit more seriously. When a woman comes to you, you listen to her. You don’t brush her off.”

“Mr. Doss, most stalker cases—”

“Not every stalker is the same, just as not every case is the same. Don’t throw statistics at me while we stand in a woman’s house that was destroyed by a deranged stalker. The next time a woman comes to police for help, you help. Do you understand me?” he clipped.

I folded my arms over my chest once I stopped, and the officer closest to me turned his head. “We need to take photos of the damage,” he told me. He wanted to be done with this, with Ash lecturing him.

“That won’t be necessary,” I replied. “We got it from here.”

“If she wants to open a case—”

“—she did. Months ago, and you turned her away. Have a good day,” I cut him off.

“In that folder, you’ll find a direct order from the FBI to stand down,” Ash said, gesturing to the file in his hand. “Red Snake Investigations will be working in conjunction with the FBI to bring down this stalker.”

Minutes later, the officers were driving away as the four of us watched.

“The FBI?” I asked, keeping my eye on the cruiser rolling down the street.

“Anytime the cops don’t want to back off, Red Snake pulls some strings,” Ash answered simply from beside me.

When he didn’t elaborate more, I turned to him, holding out my hand. “Thank you for coming out,” I said. I didn’t care what strings Red Snake pulled, just as long as Abbie’s stalker was delivered to me on a silver platter.

He shook it, dropped it, then dove in. “Took a lap around the house. None of the cameras were damaged, and Jake is pulling up the footage now.”

I nodded. Jake Murphy was Red Snake’s tech genius. “Good.”

Ash’s jaw worked. “However, don’t be surprised if we don’t find much on the outside video feed. This fucker has been stalking her for months, and if he is as obsessed as I think he is, he would’ve noticed even the smallest of changes.”

“You put cameras on the inside?” Denver asked, leaning against the porch railing.

Ash nodded, his lips twitching with satisfaction. “Now those, he would never be able to find.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement through the living room window. I turned my head to find Dave and Harris guiding Abbie to the couch. Harris sat beside her as Dave disappeared. Mason, Den, and Ash continued talking in low voices as I watched Dave come back a minute later with a bottle of water and a small plate of food.

Fuck, but she was loved here, wasn’t she?