Live for Me (Hallow Ranch)

Chapter Thirty-One

Beau

“Chase!” I barked, kicking in the doors of the police station.

Amy, the front desk assistant, shot up from her chair, her face paling.

“Beau? Lawson? What’s going on?”

Lawson pointed to her. “Get your fucking boss out here now,” he clipped as my phone buzzed.

Without looking, I put it to my ear. “Give me a fucking update.”

“Do you have eyes on my wife?” Denver clipped.

Just then, both Valerie and Harmony emerged from Chase’s office. I allowed relief to rain down on me for a second as they ran to us.

“Red,” Lawson breathed, wrapping her in a tight hug.

Valerie came straight for me, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Beau. I’m sorry. He—he pointed a gun at me, and—and—” She cut herself off on a sob, covering her mouth with her hand.

On the other end of the line, Denver roared, “PUT MY WIFE ON THE FUCKIN’ PHONE!”

She heard him and pulled the device from my hands. I wanted to be upset, but I couldn’t. My anger wasn’t geared towards her.

It was towards the sheriff.

Harmony came to me then, her hands trembling. “I-I-I am so s-sorry, B-Beau,” she stuttered, her rasp thicker than usual, her blue eyes filled with fear.

Harmony had been through a lot in her life. Situations like this weren’t good for her. I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight. “It’s okay,” I told her, finding Chase emerging from his office, strapping his gun to his hip, holding the phone against his shoulder, barking orders into it.

“I don’t care,” he snapped. “Do not let them leave the fucking premises.”

“Smoke, I’m alright,” Valerie said, grabbing Lawson’s hand and giving him a “don’t worry about me" smile.

The two women were precious to all of the Hallow Ranch cowboys. We’d burn the fucking world down for them and now, they were ready to burn the world down for my wildflower.

Chase came to the front of the station, ending the call and holding his hands up. “Beau, listen to me.”

I released Harm and then, I was nose to nose with the sheriff. “If he touches so much as a hair on my woman’s head, Bowen, I will skin you alive.”

“Beau,” Lawson warned from behind me.

Chase’s eyes held mine.

“If she gets hurt because you failed to keep Hallow Ranch in the loop, not even God will stop me,” I growled, ignoring everyone else in the room.

“Beau, I had direct—”

“There’s going to be a day when a woman walks into this town and knocks you on your ass,” I hissed, grabbing the front of his shirt. “And when that day comes, I hope you never have to feel the fear that’s tearing me apart from the inside out right now.”

With that, I shoved him back and looked over to Valerie. “Phone.”

She nodded, murmuring a goodbye to Den and handing it to me.

“We’re on our way back to the ranch,” I clipped, grabbing Valerie’s wrist and tugging her along gently. Lawson and Harm were behind us.

As I pushed the doors open, Chase called my name.

I ignored him. All I could feel was rage.

If I didn’t kill Johnson, I would be killing the motherfucking Sheriff. Prison be damned.

“There’s a unit being sent to his home in Colorado Springs right now, Beau,” he said to me once I had the truck loaded up. Valerie and Harm were in the cab and Lawson was in the back, pulling out his gun and checking his rounds.

Chase’s eyes went to the young cowboy and then flicked back to me. “I had direct orders from the capitol to keep the investigation on Johnson under wraps.”

After leaving Sheri’s shit trailer, we hauled ass to the police station to get Harm and Val. Johnson had showed up at the diner, spotted Abbie, ordered a soda and paid with the wrong card. This all happened before he pulled his gun out and kidnapped Abbie. Mason had called us in the panic, Harmony having called him.

I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “Those two women are married to your oldest fucking friends, Chase. Hell, I thought I was your friend—”

“—this has nothing to do with friendship,” he said, cutting me off.

Lawson clicked his tongue. “Langston mountain has nothing to do with friendship either, but you sure like to utilize it whenever you can.”

We spread ashes on the mountain. We reaped souls on the mountain. Justice was served the right way on the fucking mountain.

Lawson sighed, and looked up to the sky. “This goes south, Sheriff, you might want to skip town,” he suggested.

Chase’s throat bobbed and he looked at me again. “Beau—”

“Fuck you,” I spat, yanking open my door and climbing in the truck.

I floored it all the way to Hallow Ranch and when we pulled up to the barn, Denver, Lance, Mason, and my father were all on horseback, their guns pointed at the wildlife team Johnson had sent in. All four of the young men were on their knees in the gravel, their hands tied behind their backs. I looked to my father, finding his eyes on me, his pistol pointed to the skinny man tied up in front of Spirit.

Pop wasn’t on his horse because he knew that I might need Spirit.

Fuck, I loved him for that.

I parked the truck and Lawson hopped over the tailgate, opening the passenger door for Harmony and Valerie. Slamming the truck door, I came for the first wildlife officer who had the balls to look over at me, shoving the barrel of my gun into his temple as I yanked his head back.

“Where. Is. Your. Fucking. Boss?” I growled.

“They aren’t willing to talk,” Lance drawled.

Denver loaded his shotgun, his eyes on his wife. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice strained. Ranger shifted underneath him, and Denver pointed his gun to the officer on the far end.

“Denver,” she tried.

“Are. You. Hurt?” he repeated, each word colder and darker.

I looked over my shoulder to find her shaking her head. “No,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around her middle, Harmony standing beside her, looking pale. “I’m not hurt.”

Mason kept his gun pointed at the men as he swiftly dismounted his horse, heading straight for his wife. Harmony met him halfway, burying her face in his chest, sobs taking over then.

Mason looked up to his older brother, his jaw tight as he put his free hand on the back of Harmony’s head. “Our wives are crying and Beau’s woman is missing,” he stated darkly.

“Please! We don’t know anything! We don’t—”

Denver, being Denver, fired the gun anyway, the force of the shot jerked his shoulder back, the sound ringing throughout the air, followed by a pain-filled scream. I looked over the bastard at the end, finding blood oozing from his leg and fragments of his kneecaps sticking out of his pants. He wailed out and fell forward, his body bucking from the pain.

The officer who was currently under my mercy started crying. “Please, I don’t—I don’t know where Johnson is. H-he said he was going to have lunch with his wife and—ahh!”

I shoved the man back onto the gravel, hitting him in the face with the butt of my gun, shouting down at him between each hit.

“She!”

Hit.

“Is!”

Hit.

“Not!”

Hit.

“His!”

Hit.

“WIFE!”

I heard bones crunching and blood was splattering all over my shirt. His co-workers were screaming and shouting, begging for mercy. When I finally let up, I fisted my bloody hand in his shirt, pulling him up and pressing the gun underneath his chin. “Where the fuck is Johnson?”

“We know you all have trackers on your phones,” Mason said from behind me. “The cowboy that suggested burning you all alive? He’s in the barn trying to unlock them.”

My eyes burned into the man’s swollen ones. “I sincerely hope you don’t talk before he unlocks one of your phones, because then you’ll get to watch me play with your buddies over there,” I explained, smiling at the man. “Are you ready to find out how many ways I can make a sorry son of a bitch like you scream?"

Police sirens wailed in the background as Chase’s squad car flew down the hill, gravel flying behind him.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He got out of the car and held up his hands. “Everyone needs to lower their guns,” he began.

Denver’s neck twisted to look at his friend dead on. “Go home, Chase. We’ll handle it from here.”

“Denver, this is crossing a line.”

I was about to whirl on him, fully ready to break his goddamn jaw when Lance’s voice shot through the air.

“I got it,” Lance screamed, running out of the barn, phone in hand. “He’s on the fucking ranch!”

All of heads snapped in his direction and Pop pulled out the radio. “Mags, do you copy?”

I shoved the worthless fucker to the ground and got to my feet, glaring at Chase. Without even looking back down, I fired off three rounds. Two in the chest and one in the head.

“Was that really fucking necessary?” Chase barked.

“Yup,” Lawson drawled, walking up to stand beside me and pointing his gun to the only fucker still breathing. “And so is this.” Three shots. Two in the chest and one in the head. For added measure, Lawson strolled over to the man on the end who was still slowly bleeding out. “No loose ends, correct?” he asked, looking over to Denver and Mason.

“Not a single fucking one,” the bull rider growled, holding his wife still.

Three more shots rang out and after Lawson tucked his gun in the back of his jeans, he threw his arms out wide. “You got something else to say, Sheriff?”

No one said a word as I moved over to Lance, grabbing the phone from him.

“I copy,” Mags said through the radio. “Still standing by.”

My eyes landed on the map and my heart plummeted.

“He’s—he’s at the cabin,” I bit off, turning around to face Pop. “He’s at the cabin!” I shouted.

“I’ll be there in two fucking minutes,” Mags promised, his tone dark. “Over.”

Pop was off my horse in record time, throwing the radio to me before putting his hands on my shoulders. My eyes met his, and I knew what he was about to say.

“Don’t fucking hold back, you understand me?” he pressed. “You put that son of a bitch in the ground. No one touches Abbie.”

Not even two minutes later, I was flying through the pastures, Mason and Denver flanking me. The wind whipped around us as the horses’ hooves pounded against the ground, matching the tempo of my heart. The ride out to the cabin was a blur, and by the time the three of us made it to the hill overlooking my field, my sanity had nearly run out.

As usual, we couldn’t see the cabin due to the pine trees, and we couldn’t go in there guns blazing.

“Mags is in there,” Denver said, looking into the trees.

“How do you know?” I asked, my gut twisting as I reloaded my pistol.

Denver looked over to me, his gray eyes stone cold. “Trust me.”

“How do you want to play this?” Mase asked me from my other side.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, “but every second we waste out here is another second he could be hurting her.”

“We’ll cut through the woods,” Denver said. “If we cut across the field, we lose the element of surprise.”

“Or this could be a fucking trap,” Mason deadpanned.

“You two stay here. I’ll go.”

Denver’s hand shot out, his hand clamping down on my forearm. “Like fucking hell you are,” he clipped.

I shook my head. “This is my mess. Abbie is my—”

“—Abbie is fucking family, and we protect our damn family, Beau,” Mason cut me off, pointing down the hill. “You can’t expect us to stand by and—”

“Harmony needs you, Mase,” I told him before looking over to his brother. “Valerie and your kids need you, Den. Stay here. If Mags is already down there, then I’ll have back up.”

The Hallow Ranch owner shook his head. “You followed me into a fire to save Valerie, Beau. What makes you think I’m not going to do the same for you and Abbie?”

My chest ached, and I looked down to my saddle, closing my eyes. “That was different.”

“The fuck it is.”

My heart thundered in my ears. “Abbie is my—”

“—your woman. But she’s our friend—she’s our family,” Mase said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“There’s only one way we do this, and it’s together,” Denver declared.

I looked back over to my friend, and opened my mouth—

A gunshot rang through the air, the sound spearing my soul.

Logic faded.

Fear took over.

There was no stopping me now.

“Abbie!” I roared, snapping the reins, springing Spirit into action. He flew down the hill and carried me across the field as I pulled out my gun. Denver and Mason trailed behind, calling out for me.

When I was about a hundred feet from the tree line, Ricky Johnson ran out from the shade, holding his shoulder, blood pouring from between his fingers. He shouted out in pain, his head bent, assessing the damage.

I pulled back on the reins, skidding Spirit to a stop before I hopped off, gun raised.

Ricky’s eyes widened when he looked up from his wound, his skin pale and shining with sweat.

“Where is she?” I barked, my finger resting on the trigger.

“You never fucking deserved her!” he yelled back at me, his lips curled up, hatred shining in his eyes. “You were never good enough for her!”

I said nothing, looking behind him for any signs of my beautiful baby.

When she didn’t call out for me or come running, my mind assumed the worst. I stretched my neck from side-to-side. “I’m about to kill you, Mr. Johnson,” I told him frankly. “And yes, it’s going to hurt like hell.”

Blood was oozing out, sliding down over the back of his hand, but that didn’t stop his sinister smile. “I know you think you had her back, but you didn’t.” Denver and Mason appeared on either side of me then, guns raised, but Johnson ignored them. “She was never yours. She was always meant for me .”

“I’m going to enjoy this,” I whispered, imagining his screams already.

Then, the cocky bastard kept running his mouth, his confession bringing everything to light.

“I spent so much fucking money on those fucking contractors,” he muttered, pinching his nose with his bloodied hand. “They did that job, and she was finally fucking away from you! Away from this place.”

“What the fuck?” Denver whispered.

“Did he just…? Is he the man in the mask?” Mason asked, looking at me.

“What the fuck did you just say?” I hissed, taking a step closer and ticking my head to the side.

Ricky shook his head, spitting on the ground. “Fuck you, Marks. Fuck you, Langston. All of you. This entire town worships this fucking ranch, and I never got the fucking hype.”

“Pretty sure you got it when your daddy came here, begging for fucking jobs for you and him,” Denver deadpanned.

Ricky glared at him. “My father was worthy of being a fucking cowboy here.”

“No, he wasn’t and neither were you,” Mason cut in.

“Do you love Abbie?” I asked, wanting to know the truth.

He scoffed, throwing his uninjured arm out. “Of course, I do.”

“Your father tried to keep me from her so his buddy could assault her when she was sixteen at the rodeo,” I told him, watching his face closely.

That got to him.

He blinked, his throat bobbing. A moment later, he shook his head. “That’s not true. My father was—”

“—a piece of shit. Don’t worry, buddy. So was ours,” Mason deadpanned.

“The only difference is, we didn’t turn out to be pieces of shit like ours.” Denver’s words set Ricky off and his composure snapped.

Fucking finally.

He lunged for us, and I took the shot, missing him on purpose. The bullet flew past his head, hitting the tree I’d been aiming for.

He skidded to a halt, eyes widen, chest heaving.

“You drove her away from me.” My words were cold as I fired a second time.

The bullet hit him the other shoulder and he cried out in pain.

“You made her break her own heart.” I fired again, taking another step closer.

This one hit him the thigh, and he dropped to his knees before shouting at me. “You were never good enough for her, you bastard!”

Just for that, I fired off another shot, the bullet hitting him in the opposite thigh. He clenched his teeth in pain, groaning as he leaned towards me. My upper lip curled as I stopped in front of him. His uniform was soaked with blood, his eyes red, his skin pale. He tried lifting his arms, but couldn’t.

“You tormented her for years, made her live in fear,” I stated, my voice cold.

His face was filled with pain and hatred as did his best to keep his gaze on mine, slowly bleeding out. “She’s not yours, Johnson.” I fired, hitting him in the abdomen.

Seconds later, blood trickled out from his lips as he coughed, choking on it.

“She was always mine,” I growled, pressing the gun to the middle of his forehead. My head tilted to the side as I murmured, “I’ll see you in hell, buddy.”

My finger squeezed the trigger and I didn’t even wait for his body to go down before I was running into the trees, calling out for Abbie.

“Abbie! Abbie, baby!”

“Over here!”

Mags.

As I rounded a pine tree, I stopped, my heart nearly exploding at the sight of Mags and Abbie sitting on the porch steps. He was holding a bottle of water with a straw to her lips, encouraging her to take a drink.

The sight of her—seeing her alive—was too much.

Her eyes lifted up to mine, and my soul—my fucking soul—sang with joy.

I moved, surging towards her, seeing only her, needing and loving only her. Mags was up and out of the way by the time I dropped to my knees in front of her, my hands cupping her face.

“Beau,” she croaked, her hands finding my wrists.

“Hi, Wildflower,” I whispered, my eyes lingering on her bruised cheek. My thumb lightly brushed over it as I bit down, grinding my teeth. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head, clinging to me. “Don’t—don’t say that. This was all him.”

“Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay,” I begged, checking out the rest of her, searching for injuries.

“I’m okay. He drugged me with something, and I dosed off for a few minutes. I feel better now after Mags got me some water.”

“Ash and Jake are headed here to do a blood test,” Mags informed us.

I looked back to find him, Denver, and Mason all watching Abbie closely. “Help me get her inside, yeah?”

Then, as my friends— no, my brothers—helped get my woman in the cabin, I pulled off my hat and looked up to the pines. My eyes locked on the hawk perched in her nest, staring down at me. Then, after a few moments of quiet, she spread her wings, soaring up into the blue sky.

That’s when I felt it.

The happy ending Abbie and I were supposed to have six years ago finally settling on my shoulders.

I dropped my head, spotting something between my knees, poking out from the pine needles against the porch steps.

A wildflower.