Page 130 of Live for Me

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 forme.”

“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.

Thatgot 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.

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