Page 19 of Live for Me

I could protect her now.

Abbie deserved love, and I was going to give it to her. Day after day. Year after year. Until I was old and gray. Until my lungs stopped working. Until my heart stopped beating, I would love Abbie the way she was destined to be loved.

I didn’t know when the man stopped moving. It could’ve been when I heard his bones crunching or when I’d finally started feeling pain in my hands. At some point, his arms fell to his sides, and I felt wetness splash up on my face, hitting my forehead and cheek.

I didn’t fucking care.

All I could see was him hitting her, hurting her—scaring her.

Eventually, when my body was tired, I leaned back, chest heaving as I dropped my hands, leaving them to hang in over my hips, throbbing now. Abbie came around to my front, her hands over her mouth as she stared down at me in horror, shaking her head rapidly.

But God, she looked so fucking pretty today.

Her hair was in loose braids, hanging over her shoulders, strays escaping as the ends curled around the swell of her chest. When she walked into the school this morning, I’d never seen anything more perfect in my life. However, right now, she wasn’t perfect. Her white blouse was ripped at the shoulder, and her long, pink skirt that flowed around her legs, down to her white tennis shoes was covered in dirt stains. I bit down hard, hoping like hell we could get those stains out. She loved that skirt so fucking much, and I still remembered the happy dance she did when she found it in Sam’s thrift store last spring. My eyes dropped to her shoes, studying them as my heart drummed in my ears. They had a hole them, and I was doing all I could to save up so I could get her a new pair.

I couldn’t give her money—not again. The last time, her momma found it and stole it for blow. Abbie Spears didn’t have a dime to her name, despite all the extra dish washing shifts she’d been picking up at the diner in town. Nothing ever lasted. Her greedy mother was always stealing her paychecks.

“What did you do, Beau?” she whimpered as she dropped her trembling hands to her sides. My eyes flicked up from her shoes to her face, seeing fear still shining in her eyes.

“What I had to,” I answered roughly, rolling my right shoulder.

I didn’t have to look at the man. I kept my eyes on her, focused on where he’d struck her. It was already swelling and fuck me, my girl bruised easily.

“Beau, you…you…”

“Take a breath,” I ordered calmly. I knew the man was dead.

I’d just killed a man, but I didn’t care. I only cared about her.

My father had killed plenty of men in his lifetime, and growing up on Hallow Ranch, there were just certain things a cowboy had to do. Killing anyone who hurt the people you loved was one of those things. From the age of ten, I knew that,someday, I would have to take a life, and growing up beside Abbie, I also knew I would do it to protect her.

Now that day was here, and I had no regrets.

“What did you do?” she repeated, her voice higher and louder this time.

I bent my head, closing my eyes, knowing she wasn’t a stranger to violence. But she was a stranger to this—death.

I wasn’t.

I saw many things during my summers at Hallow Ranch. I was used to it.

The only thing I cared about was Abbie.

Inhaling a deep breath, I opened my eyes and wiped my bloody hands on the dead man’s shirt before rising to my full height. I bent down, swooping up my hat off the ground, and slowly walked towards her, my jaw tight. She was trembling as I gently gripped her chin, turning her head to the side. Her cheekbone was a deep red, turning purple, but I didn’t think it was broken. Pop would double check when I got her back to the ranch.

“Beau!”

I turned around, my upper lip curling into a snarl as I shoved Abbie behind me. My shoulders relaxed when Mason came around the corner, his eyes wild. He stopped short, his hand on the top of his black cowboy hat, chest heaving like he’d been running. His eyes dropped to the body, staring at it for a second before lifting back up to me, flicking to where Abbie was behind my frame. His jaw ticked once.

“He fucking hit her?” he guessed.

I nodded once, saying nothing.

Mason had a choice here.

He could either call the cops, maintain his image of John Langston’s son for the town of Hayden and have me arrested. Or, he could help me hide the body.

I felt Abbie’s hand wrap around my forearm, her fingers tightening. I held my breath, heart pounding, only to release it five seconds later when Mason said, “I’ll call your dad.”

---