Live for Me (Hallow Ranch)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Abbie

“Beau?” I called softly, lifting my head up from his chest. He’d fallen asleep hours ago. I, however, had a mind that refused to shut off, continuing to race, tumbling over unanswered questions. The calloused hand resting on my bare ass moved, his fingers squeezing my plump flesh.

“Abbie, I love having you in my bed again, but for the love of all that is holy…” he grumbled, keeping his eyes closed. “I know you haven’t forgotten how much a cowboy needs sleep, how valuable it is to him.”

“No, I haven’t forgotten that,” I admitted softly, running my fingers across his toned pectoral. “Which is why I also know you know when my mind is racing, I can’t sleep.”

In the moonlight, I watched him crack an eye open. “Baby, your mind has been racing for thirty years. I don’t think it ever had any plans on stopping.”

“I just—we never got to talk about earlier.”

“Earlier?” he parroted, both eyes open now, and in the pale light, paired with his tanned skin, his eyes looked…eternal.

“I went to the hotel today,” I told him, dipping my chin. “First of all, I want to say thank you—you know, for the wall in the Grand Room.”

Beau said nothing and honestly, I was too chicken to look at him. I’d come back to the bunkhouse earlier today, running on nothing but blind rage and after everything he’d done for me, I tossed his honor into the dirt and stepped on it.

“Why were you at the hotel in the first place?” he finally asked, his voice quiet in the room we decided to call ours.

“A story.”

Suddenly, I was on my back, and his hips fell between my legs as he hovered over me, his jaw tight. “You trying to tell me your fucking boss put you on a fucking story while there’s a damn stalker after you?” That velvet voice was no longer quiet and sweet. It was filled with malice, and it should’ve scared the shit out of me.

But this was Beau.

My Beau.

“My boss may be a money hungry sort of asshole now, but once upon a time, he was just like me, always searching for a story. He told me about a possible story and offered it to me. He gave me the choice, Beau. He didn’t assign me to it.”

“Why in the hell would he offer you a story in the first place?” he clipped, his hands on either side of my head now, flattening my fluffy pillow.

“If you ruin this pillow, my neck will hurt in the morning,” I mumbled.

“If you don’t start talking, that sweet ass will hurt in the morning,” he threatened.

I reached up, cupping his strong jaw, feeling the anger and fear beneath his scruff. “He knew I needed the distraction. After, well, after everything with the asshole stalking me, my house being broken into, my art being destroyed, I just…” My words faded away, a lump forming in my throat. I kept my hand against his face, stroking his cheek, using this touch as a way to keep me grounded. I hadn’t given myself the chance to think about all the art my stalker had damaged because that would be a hole I’d never crawl out of.

My art wasn’t a hobby; it was an expression of my soul.

After dinner, Beau asked me if I wanted to go into the sunroom and take a look at the canvases he’d brought over.

The sunroom wasn’t really a sunroom, not with the trees all surrounding us. It was built with that intention, but the second I saw it after mustering up the courage to take a peek two days ago, I knew it would’ve been my studio. There was one painting of mine that I wouldn't let Beau see and it was currently in the other bedroom, hidden underneath the bed. This cabin was meant to be our home, and now? Now, after the conversation Beau I had during dinner, I didn’t know what it was going to be. Everything was so complicated and messy and—

“Wildflower.”

I blinked, and slowly, everything came back into focus. Beau’s features had softened, understanding creasing his brow, and his eyes shined with what I could only describe as love. “Yes?”

“Need you to stay here, right here with me, when you’re talking like that,” he murmured. “Okay?”

I nodded, looking out the window, keeping my eyes on the moon as I continued. “I just…Beau, after you left me at Denver and Valerie’s, the only thing holding me together was that Valerie was in the next room. She’s a stranger to me and I couldn’t let her see me crumble like that. I asked for her phone so I could call my boss, and everything happened so quickly. For the first time in days, I had a purpose. I could be something—mean something to this world.”

He waited, but God, he waited.

When my eyes met his again, I asked the question that had been burning in my mind for the last four hours. “Did you kill those two developers?”

“They weren’t developers. They were investors,” he corrected, and I held my breath as he shifted his weight so he could bring a hand to my face, his finger trailing down the side of it. “The first one assaulted a fifteen-year-old girl. Chase filed the report and came out to Hallow Ranch the next night.”

“Chase?”

He nodded, his eyes scanning every inch of my face now, as if trying to memorize it. “He’s the sheriff now, Abbie. When he knows the justice system will fail, he calls us.”

I said nothing for a few long moments, remembering the night I was attacked at the rodeo.

“I didn’t kill him,” Beau whispered, his hand falling away. Then, he was gone, on his back once more, staring up at the ceiling with a hand tucked behind his head. “Hell, I didn’t kill either of them.”

“What happened to the second?”

His jaw jumped exactly eleven times before he answered. “He tried to rape Valerie.”

My hand went to my mouth, but it wasn’t quick enough to stop my gasp. Beau’s neck twisted, those blue eyes on fire now. “Denver rushed into town. Pop saw her at the bar that evening with that fucker bothering her. Pop, being Pop, he knew he wouldn’t be able to protect her. So he raced back here and told Denver. I was right behind him.” Beau sighed, looking back up to the ceiling again. “Denver put three bullets in him, just like the first, and I respected him for that.” He paused. “Because I would’ve dragged it out if either of those fucking bastards touched you.”

“So…you haven’t killed anyone since…” I trailed off, letting him figure out the rest.

“Told you, I didn’t kill those two, Abbie. Never said there wasn’t any more.” He looked over to me. “Told you—I’m a different man now.”

I shook my head. “No, Beau, I don’t think you are,” I argued, my voice timid. I sat up on my elbow, my fingers playing the edge of the sheet, and I dropped my eyes, focusing on that. “I think that man has always been inside you. Deep down.”

“That scare you?” he asked.

“Not if you’re only killing men like that,” I answered.

“As much as I’m pleased to hear that, I need you to say it again. This time, look me in the eyes,” he suggested, and I felt him move.

I found his face mere inches from mine when I looked back up, the heat of his eyes surrounding me again. “You don’t scare me as long as you’re killing monsters like that.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I scared you, Abbie. Every time I see fear in these gorgeous brown eyes of yours, a piece of me dies.”

“You can’t control—”

“I may have been a boy when I promised to protect you for the rest of my life, but I never intended on breaking it, no matter how much time passed,” he cut me off. “The second Mags came to the bunkhouse in the middle of the night, I knew—fuck, Wildflower, I knew deep in my soul that you were in danger.”

My heart skipped a beat. “The second I saw you standing on my porch in the rain, I wanted to jump into your arms and apologize for all the pain I caused you,” I crocked.

His forehead met mine. “I need you to let it go,” he urged, his hand cupping the back of my neck now. “I need you to let go of that guilt, Abbie. It’s only going to weigh you down.”

I jerked back. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

That jaw jumped again, and then, I was underneath him—again. “Listen to me now. I need you to hear me and let my words sink into that stubborn brain of yours,” he commanded, leaning down to put his forehead back against mine. “I forgive you.”

Tears filled my eyes. “No, you can’t—”

“—Oh, I damn well can, and I already did. Now give me a kiss so we can go to sleep.”

As a tear streamed down the sides of my face, I rasped, “You want to go to sleep? In the middle of this conversation?”

“Beautiful, I had this conversation scheduled for tomorrow morning on the front porch with two cups of coffee and your pussy freshly fucked and filled. The ranch waits for no one. You know this. I need my sleep.”

I opened my mouth and closed it.

There really was no arguing with that.

“Okay, Beau,” I murmured just before his lips touched mine.

“Atta girl.”

The next evening. Hallow Ranch.

Beau held my hand the entire drive to the main house.

I hadn’t said a single word.

My mind was racing again, and I knew full well there was nothing I could do to slow these anxious, fear-laced thoughts. After finishing his work for the day, Beau came back to the cabin, informing me Denver called a meeting. Beau went on to explain the cowboys needed to hear the truth from me, down to the last detail.

I didn’t want to re-live that night.

I didn’t want to tell any of them.

In the back of my mind, there was a small part of me that was wound up in fear. If I told them the truth, would they be able to protect themselves, or would I be putting everyone on this ranch in danger?

Beau cleared his throat as he pulled his truck up beside Denver’s old red one. For a moment, I let myself reminisce about all the times we’d rode in the back of that truck while Denver did donuts in one of the empty pastures. I remembered the laughter, the thrill. There were so many times—so many places on this land—that held my happiest of memories. I inhaled a choppy breath, peeling my gaze from the vehicle and dropping it to my lap.

“Hey. Look at me,” Beau whispered after shutting off the truck.

I didn’t.

Instead, I pulled my hand from his, bringing it to my lap. I stared down at my hands, knowing all the art they’d created, the stories they’d told, the truth they’d revealed. My eyes closed when Beau’s finger slid underneath my chin, gently lifting and turning my head to face him. He was leaning over the bench seat now, his hat resting on the dash.

“You are safe here,” he vowed, telling me something I already knew.

“But are you?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His brows furrowed. “Baby.”

A tap on my window filled my ears then, and I let out a yelp, turning to find Lance giving me a smirk before he opened the door. “Hi,” he greeted.

I blinked.

I’d been here for days, and this was my first true interaction with either of the twins. “Uh, hi.”

His eyes held mine as he said, “Every single time a pretty woman shows up on this damn ranch, trouble follows.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but Beau beat me to the punch. “There something you need, Lance?”

The young man clicked his tongue, looking at his friend. “Need a lot of things, Beau.”

“You sure as fuck aren’t going to find them in the cab of my truck,” Beau shot back, his voice smooth.

Lance’s eyes sliced back over to me, and he dipped his chin. “Just wanted to say hi. It’s been a shit couple of days.”

Nodding, I replied. “Thank you for saying hi.”

A slow, panty-melting smile stretched across his face as he backed up and rounded Denver’s tailgate. He paused and looked over his shoulder. “Thanks for bringing the trouble, by the way. Things were starting to get boring around here.”

Behind me, Beau muttered something about a cattle prod, and I whirled back around. “You want to do what with a cattle prod?” I breathed.

Shaking his head, he muttered something else while grabbing his cowboy hat. “Shut your door, Abbie,” he commanded, opening his.

“I thought I was needed in this cowboy meeting,” I deadpanned.

His blue eyes snapped to mine. “Shut your fucking door so I can open it for you and stop being difficult.”

Before I could respond, he was out of the truck, putting on his hat as he came around the hood. I hadn’t shut the door. He didn’t like that. After giving me a heated glare, he shut the door, leaving it for a moment as I stared at him like he’d grown two heads. When he opened the door again, he held out his hand, and my eyes dropped to it.

“Do you realize how much time and energy you wasted?” I asked, grabbing his hand. “I mean, I can—oh!”

With a short, deep growl, he yanked me out of the truck, shut the door, and backed me into it. He planted his free hand beside my head and angled his body to get eye-level with me. “Probably the same amount of time and fucking energy you wasted arguing with me over stupid shit.”

“I—I don’t argue about stupid shit,” I retorted, ignoring the heat crawling up my face.

“Wildflower, arguing with your man over him opening the truck door for you is the definition of stupid shit,” he deadpanned. My mouth opened of its own accord, but it closed just as quickly when he threatened, “Keep opening that mouth, Abbie, and you’ll find out just how difficult it is to argue with my cock down your throat.”

I shuttered as desire curled low in my belly, dropping straight down to my clit. His eyes scanned my face, pausing at my lips when they parted and rasped his name. I put my hands to his chest and closed my eyes. “You can’t—you can’t say things like that before we go into a meeting like this.”

His lips brushed against mine then, kissing me softly. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

My eyes fluttered open as he pushed off the truck, nabbing my hand again.

“Let’s go rile up some cowboys, shall we?”

Denver, CO. Abbie’s house.

The man stared down at the gift he’d left his woman almost a week and half ago.

Anger boiled in his gut, hating himself for not getting her something better. Abbie deserved the world, and he fully intended on giving it to her.

A soft beep came from the security panel in the foyer, and the man knew his time was almost up. He’d done all he could to buy himself some time in here, but there were people trying to keep them apart.

He’d been patient with her.

He’d given her enough space to find herself and grow in her career. When she moved from her old place to this house, he’d been scared, fearful he’d lost her forever. Back then, he’d been cautious, so much so, it could’ve been labeled as downright foolish.

He nearly let her slip through his fingers.

This time would’ve been different. It was supposed to have been different. He’d visited her almost daily, watching her work until the late hours of the night from the bushes outside, and when his beautiful woman would go upstairs to take a shower, he’d let himself inside. During this time, he’d check on the house before heading back into her art studio. That was the one place he hadn’t been. His Abbie always kept it locked.

Someday, he’d hoped when they were together, she’d show him.

That day never came.

His plans, his efforts, everything had gone to shit.

He reached down, his hand covered in black latex and plucked the pieces of hair from the box. This was supposed to be the final push. She was supposed to let him in.

Yes, she would be scared at first, and the man understood that.

For years, he’d tried not to scare her.

All he wanted to do was love her.

She’d been within his reach until the cowboy showed up.

The man’s hand balled into a fist as he eyed the message he'd carved into the wood of her coffee table just days ago, and before he could stop himself, he drew back and slammed it down onto the glass center. Pain radiated through his hand, but he didn’t care. All he could see was the blond cowboy.

The one with the nice smile.

The tall one.

The one who knew Abbie in a way the man wanted to know her.

The cowboy knew her body.

Beau Marks needed to die. That was the only solution. Once he was out of the way, Abbie and the man could finally be together.

On that thought, the man rose back up and, with a roar, he slammed his fist down onto the glass again, shattering it. The sound echoed throughout the house he was going to spend the rest of his life in with Abbie, the shards falling onto the rug below like a short rainstorm in the middle of summer. The man’s chest heaved, and spots dotted his vision.

He couldn’t lose Abbie.

Not again.

With another growl, he fished out his flip phone from his jacket pocket and pressed the number three button before putting it to his ear.

A woman answered on the second ring.

“How’s my favorite son-in-law doing?” Sheri asked, her smoke-damaged voice doing its best to sound sweet.

The man couldn’t help but smile as another beep sounded in the foyer.

It was time to go. He turned, leaving the mess for now, and headed to the back door. “I’m good, Sheri. How are you?”

The old woman sighed. “Oh, you know. I’m making it. How’s everything at home? Is Abbie doing okay?”

The man didn’t answer until he was out of the house, his eyes on the security camera he’d hacked into days ago. He knew he couldn’t have hacked into all of them without Red Snake Investigations knowing, so he hacked into this one and only used the back door to get in and out of the house. “She’s good,” the man answered, pride filling his voice. “She just had another article featured on the front page of the paper again.”

Abbie’s mother hummed. “That’s really good, Son.”

The man’s chest twinged. He didn’t know if he liked the idea of Sheri calling him that. Maybe it was because he and Abbie weren’t officially married yet. Maybe it was something else entirely.

The man didn’t have time to analyze it.

“Listen,” he began once he was on the sidewalk, heading two streets over to where he’d parked his car. “I know Abbie won’t be able to make it, but it’s the end of the month, and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind a visit from me tomorrow.”

Sheri’s voice filled with excited as she squealed his name. “I would love that! What time can I expect you?”

The man looked up to full moon, smiling. “I’ll be in Hayden in the morning, Sheri.”

“Great! See you then!”