Page 58 of Live for Me

Denver said nothing, studying me with an intensity that could scorch the Earth.

After a few moments, he spoke again. “He may not see it because he is blinded by his own goddamn pain, but you aren’t fooling me, Abbie. You loved Beau, then you left him, and for some fucking reason, you still love him.”

My lips parted as my face heated, hating how exposed I felt.

“You can love him from a distance, Abbie. You’re allowed to do that,” he said gently. “But that’s all you’re allowed to do.”

I blinked. “W-what?”

“Hallow Ranch will protect you. You have my word,” he vowed. I waited, knowing he had more. He looked over my shoulder, no doubt looking at Beau on my porch. “Under one condition, Abbie.”

A lump formed in my throat. “What condition, Denver?” I asked, hissing his name, my chest heaving now.

Those gray eyes collided with mine again. “You let Beau go.”

Pain shifted inside my chest, his words coming directly for my soul. I knew what he was asking, but I had to give him a sliver of the truth. Then, maybe, he would understand. I lifted my chin a fraction, ignoring how my bottom lip trembled. “He never could’ve been mine in the first place, Denver.” His dark brows snapped together, but I continued, “There’s nothing to let go of.”

With that, I stood and walked into the kitchen, leaving the Hallow Ranch owner alone.

I didn’t get out of the truck when Beau parked in front of the bunkhouse instead of behind it, the back of his truck filled with all my damaged art pieces and supplies, having just transferred it from Mason's.

I’d spent a good chuck of my morning talking with Ash Doss, former SEAL, current employee of Red Snake Investigations. He walked through the house with me, asking me questions about my stalker in great detail. I showed him the gift my stalker had delivered to my office before everything went to hell. Of course, I did this behind my bedroom door, away from my friends. I didn’t need them knowing the man who was stalking me also managed to get locks of their damn hair.

After telling Ash the details of the nightmare I’d been living, he put his hand on my shoulder and promised me Red Snake would handle this. When I asked him about payment, he only shook his head and said, “I’m not taking your money, Ms. Spears.”

Beside me, Beau shifted his old truck into park, remaining silent. Neither of us moved for some time, the air around us thick and wired with emotions too dangerous to process.

I didn’t know how much time passed, but when Beau’s father stepped out of the bunkhouse, his hat in hand, his eyes not on his son but on me, I nearly broke.

Jigs’ eyes connected with mine, and the pain was too much. I sucked in my bottom lip between my teeth and twisted my neck, eyes closing.

Beau said nothing as he opened his door and folded out of the truck. “Pop,” he greeted.

I could still feel Jigs’ eyes on me, but I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t look at the man who took me in, convinced John Langston to let Hallow Ranch be my sanctuary, a home away from my mother. I couldn’t look at the man who used to kiss me on the forehead when I was having a bad day, the man who taught me how to right a horse, how to drive, how to cook…

Being around Beau was torture enough, but being around his father?

I didn’t know if I could handle it. I bent my head, trying to get a grip on my emotions as my heart pounded in my chest like a thunderstorm.

Jigs Marks was shorter than his son, his bowed legs making him that way. Back in the day, I was sure he was just as tall as Beau, and just as handsome. Now, his skin was weathered, tanned, his hair gray—almost white and a thick, gray mustache was the primary resident on his face. His eyes were blue, but not Beau’s blue. Beau’s eyes were a mix of Jigs’ and his mother’s eyes, the woman who destroyed Jigs nearly twenty years ago, leaving him with a little boy and a broken heart that would never be healed.

I couldn’t look at Jigs because I was the woman who shattered his son.

History was repeating itself in the Marks family, and there was nothing I could’ve done about it. No matter how much I wanted to stop it…it happened. Neither of them could ever know the truth, and I would have to let them hate me for it.

“This is what you deserve, Abbie,” I told myself on a shaky exhale. I didn’t have any more tears to cry, not today, at least. Tomorrow, though, that was a different story.

Suddenly, my door opened, and I jumped.

My eyes collided with Jigs’. His hat was now on, but the shadow it cast did nothing to hide the look of concern painted across his features. “Abbie, sweetheart, you okay?” he asked, his rough, aged voice soft.

Sweetheart.

You okay?

He was asking me if I was okay?

I looked out the windshield, finding Beau walking out of the bunkhouse with a bag over his shoulder and second pair of boots in his hand. The twins emerged in the doorway behind him, their faces serious.

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