Beneath Dark Skies (Rolling Hills Ranch #1)

46. Farron

FORTY-SIX

FARRON

RESIGNATION

Day 443

The pounding at my door doesn’t surprise me this time. At this point, I’ve grown accustomed to the guys showing up at any hour of the day, knocking obnoxiously on my door, seeking attention. But tonight, it’s different. I’m not going to answer the fucking door. I have nothing to say to any of them. I asked them to give me space, and they couldn’t even make it one day? I should have assumed as much.

Curled up on the couch with a murder mystery novel in hand—explicitly chosen for its lack of romance—I try to lose myself in the pages. But any reading I hoped to get done is ruined by the insistent knocking. I roll my eyes in exasperation, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. Perhaps if I remain silent, they’ll relent and leave me in peace. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll get the message.

I hear the door knob rattle as someone tries to open the door, but that’s different tonight too. For the first time since I moved in, I’ve locked my damn door—a symbolic act of defiance. All the better to keep the wolves out. They can huff and puff and try to blow my house down, but I’m not coming out there.

“Farron,” I hear Kenji call out. Great, Satan himself is here, maybe to spew more hate in my face. Out of all of them, he’s the one I want to speak to the least. So, I do what any rational person would: I hold my breath and pretend I’m not home.

“Farron, please,” Kenji’s voice is muffled through the door, but I can hear the desperation in his tone. “I know I messed up. But it’s an emergency. Mr. Abel is injured and bloody, and he needs your help.”

My heart lurches in my chest, concern overriding my frustration. Without a second thought, I rise from the couch, my book forgotten on the cushions. As quickly as I can, I unlock the door and swing it open, and find myself greeted by the sight of Adrian and Kenji supporting a bloodied Mr. Abel, Theo hovering nearby. Mr. Abel’s condition shocks me to my core, his pale face contorted in pain, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Jesus,” I manage to get out, my voice strained with concern. “What the hell happened?”

“The undead happened,” Kenji replies, his words heavy. “They breached the perimeter and attacked during the potluck. Mr. Abel got caught in the chaos.”

My first thought is a question; how the hell did they make their way onto the property without the bells alerting someone? I think I can imagine a possibility where the music and noise from the potluck overtook the sound of the alarms going off. But that doesn’t feel right. Unfortunately, there’s no time for answers. My focus shifts to the injured man before me, his well-being now my priority.

Normally, I would refuse to ‘doctor’ in my cottage, but given the sight of Mr. Abel in front of me, I think I would be a fool to try and get him situated in the main house first. I step aside, telling the guys to bring him in and get him seated at one of the chairs at my small dining room table. I quickly jog over to the hallway closet, ripping it open and pulling out one of my medical kits before rushing back to the dining room.

The air is thick with tension and the metallic scent of blood. Mr. Abel’s face is pale, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. Adrian and Kenji carefully lower him into the chair, his body slumping as they do. Theo moves closer, his eyes full of worry, silently handing me a flashlight.

“Mr. Abel, can you hear me?” I ask, my voice steady despite the anxiety clawing at my insides.

He nods weakly, his eyes fluttering open. “Yes, Farron. I’m here.”

I open the medical kit, my hands moving quickly and efficiently as I assess his wounds. There’s a deep gash on his leg, blood seeping through his pants. I bite my lip, focusing on the task at hand.

“Adrian, grab some towels from the bathroom,” I instruct. “Kenji, get some water boiling. Theo, I need you to hold the flashlight steady.”

The guys all jump to spring into action, but Mr. Abel’s words cut through the silence like a knife. “No,” he croaks hoarsely, his gaze meeting mine with a mixture of resignation and fear, tears brimming his lash line.

I turn to him, my brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean, Mr. Abel? No to what?”

“No to them running around and getting anything,” he explains, his eyes meeting mine, his voice trembling with emotion. With shaky hands, he rolls up the sleeve on his left arm to reveal the real problem—a deep, festering bite on his forearm. The sight leaves me breathless, a surge of dread coursing through my veins. I glance at the others, their expressions mirroring my own shock and horror.

“Can you guys go get Jay, please?” my voice is a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the pounding of my heart. But Mr. Abel shuts that down quickly, too.

“It’s too late,” he says with a shake of his head, his voice heavy with resignation. “It’s done. I don’t want him to see me like this, Farron. I don’t want Jay to have nightmares about my bloody body or what’s about to happen. You know what you have to do, Farron. It's okay.” His trembling hand reaches out to grasp mine, our shared fear palpable in the air. “I promise it’s okay.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, tears welling up in my eyes as a choked sob escapes my lips. I tenderly kiss his hand, silently acknowledging the suffering and depth of his words, and take a moment to center myself. Rising to my feet, I move to his side, offering my support as he struggles to stand.

Turning to the guys, my voice trembles as I ask for their assistance in escorting Mr. Abel outside. Adrian and Theo comply without question, but I can sense their confusion lingering in the air, their eyes searching mine for answers.

However, Kenji's reaction is different. He seems to have already caught onto what’s going on. As I make my way to retrieve my revolver, he follows closely behind, his presence unwelcome. Ignoring his pleas, I grab the weapon, place one single bullet inside, and step outside, determination etched into my features.

But before I can take another step, Kenji’s hand closes around my arm, his grip firm yet pleading. “Farron, you don’t have to do this,” he implores, desperation lacing his words.

I scoff, shaking off his grasp as I continue toward the others. With the gun in hand, I lead the way to the back of the cottage, my heart heavy with the burden of what lies ahead. As Adrian and Theo follow, their realization dawns, their shock transforming into disbelief.

“Farron,” Kenji's voice carries a sense of urgency, his plea more insistent this time. “Please. You don’t have to do this. I’ll do it, okay? Please don’t put yourself through this.”

“I don’t need anything from you!” I snap, my voice strained with the weight of my emotions. The turmoil of the past few days—the guilt, the anger, the sorrow—is bubbling up inside me, threatening to consume me whole.

“I wouldn’t want you to miss this opportunity, Kenji,” I start, my voice trembling with barely contained anguish. “Not everyone gets to lounge around in bed all morning. Even the community whore sometimes has to step up and do things that aren’t easy.” The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth, but I can't hold them back. I watch as the words strike him, guilt crossing over his features.

Before he can say another word, I turn towards the other men, who have heard the entire exchange. Mr. Abel gently tells Adrian and Theo to let go of him and step away, and they do. I approach him, my heart heavy with sorrow, and pull him into a tight hug. Tears stream down my cheeks, mingling with the blood stains on his shirt. I press my forehead against his, expressing my love and gratitude to him before the inevitable.

Tears begin tracking down my cheeks as a quiet sob escapes my lips. I kiss his hand, my lips trembling against his cold skin. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, my voice cracking from the agony of what I’m about to do.

“It’s okay,” he reassures me, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and acceptance. “I’ve lived a long life, and I’m grateful for every moment. Just make sure Jay knows how much I love him. You tell my grandson that I love him more than anything. You got that, Farron? And you tell him that he is the most incredible man I’ve ever met. Tell him to stay strong, to live a good life. Tell him to get his head out of his ass when it comes to love.”

“I promise,” I choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be there for him. He’ll never be alone.” Mr. Abel nods, a silent understanding passing between us. He nudges his chin, urging me to get on with it. I step back, my hands trembling uncontrollably, and turn to face him, finding his eyes now on Kenji .

“I’ve seen you and Jay together,” he starts, his words interrupted by a fit of coughing. When it subsides, he continues, his voice strained. “You’re lucky to have your brothers with you. You’d be even luckier to have Jay as one of them.” Kenji nods, his jaw clenched, his eyes betraying his true emotions. “Please don’t let Jay see the aftermath.”

Mr. Abel turns back to me, his gaze steady, his expression resigned. He slowly falls to his knees in the grass in front of me and nods his head one last time, sending me a soft smile. I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady my trembling hands as I lift the gun in front of me. My heart feels like it's being torn apart, but there's no turning back now. I raise the gun, my vision blurred by tears, and take aim.

As I pull the trigger, a deafening blast echoes through the air, reverberating in my ears. Time seems to stand still as the bullet finds its mark, and I watch in horror as Mr. Abel slumps forward, his lifeless body crumpling to the ground. Blood splatters over me, painting a macabre picture.