Page 18 of Beautiful Ruins
She wouldn’t tell me last night. But maybe she’d tell me now that it wasn’t three in the morning with whiskey coursing through my veins.
Sadie frowned, then realisation kicked in, and she ran the tips of her fingers over her cheekbone like an afterthought. “That’s not what’s important here, Rowan,” she said, holding up the note. “Logan wanted to tell me something. Do you think—” She swallowed hard, and took a step towards me,crossing the kind of line we’d both held steady for years. Even so, I stood there, too fucking cowardly to close the gap myself. “Do you think he was . . . in some sort of trouble?” She lowered her voice on the last word, as if she had just uttered the magic spell that would destroy us all.
Yes. I did think that. But Sadie had no business digging into it. And I’d damn well make sure she stayed in the dark. Logan had gotten closer with our father, and that was never a good sign, especially when he was deep inside the club’s business.
I yanked her into the garage attached to the back of the clubhouse. My hand clamped over her mouth before I could think. The scent of motor oil and steel clung to the air. Tools hung on pegboards like weapons waiting to be drawn. The overhead light flickered once, as if deciding to stay with us or leave us in the dark.
Sadie’s eyes widened—hurt, not fear—but it still made me want to crawl out of my skin.
I glanced around. I could never be too sure who was watching, who was listening. “Still lighting shit up, aren’t you, Firefly?” My nickname for her flew out of my mouth. “You want to come back here and after only twenty-four hours, you bring me this shit? What are you trying to find, Sadie?”
The question hung in the air, trembling like the woman in front of me.
Her eyes darted between mine, searching for something, but all I could see was that bruise, that goddamn fucking bruise. It had burned itself into my brain and I forced myself to relax, to breathe through the surge of anger. Someone had laid their hands on her. How many times? Had she cried? Had she fought back? The Sadie I knew would have.
She was still my Sadie, the same stubborn girl who, at ten years old, had threatened to suffocate me in mysleep if I didn’t stop messing with my brother. I would never have admitted it back then, but pretty sure that was the day I fell in love with her. I was only twelve. And now there she was, pressed up against me, her breath hot against my palm.
When I realised what the hell I was doing, I took a step back, releasing her from my grip.
Sadie exhaled sharply, her shoulders slumping forward like some of the fight had rushed out of her. “What the hell, Ro?” Her voice was a mixture of frustration and something softer, something closer to betrayal.
I raked a hand through my hair, pacing back and forth across the oil-stained concrete. “Jesus—fuck. I’m sorry.” There was no escape, no way to tear myself open and release myself from under Logan’s shadow. “You need to let this go. Do you hear me?” I was begging her, but she needed to know what she was doing to me, what she was risking. “Logan killed himself, Sades. End of story. I don’t know what he wanted to tell you, so just let it be. Move on.”
I didn’t even buy it myself. Not after seeing Logan’s scrawled confession. It was obvious now I couldn’t deny the change I’d seen in him in the last few months before his death. He became secretive, but I didn’t think he was suicidal. It was something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “You expect me to believe you don’t know a damn thing? You were his brother, Ro. He trusted you. And now you want me to walk away like none of it matters?”
“That’s exactly what I want you to do.” I didn’t want her anywhere near it.
That would mean reliving it all over again, and I wasn’t strong enough to reopen those wounds. Yet, Sadie was hellbent on picking at the raw skin.
The tin roof above us clicked as it heated in the sun, andthe faint roar of engines drifted from the surrounding streets. But all I heard was the breath catching in her throat.
“I was so mad at him for not showing up to the formal,” she whispered, a single tear sliding down her flushed cheek. “I thought he’d stood me up, but this . . . this note . . .” Sadie’s voice, at breaking point, mingled with the sound of my blood rushing through my ears.
She wrapped her arms around her waist. More tears streaked her face, slicing right through the walls I’d built up to protect myself from her. The sight of her falling apart wasn’t something I could handle. Not when I was barely keeping myself together.
My fists clenched at my sides. I had to step back. If I didn’t, I’d fold. I’d pull her in and give her what she wanted—the truth.
“It’s not your fault, Sades. Logan did this to himself.” My words were harsh, but fuck, they were all I had. “You saw him, he was strung up from his ceiling fan. End of story.”
But it wasn’t the end of the story, not even close. And there was no way I was letting her get involved in whatever dark shit Logan had buried himself under. If she started poking around Hollow Creek or going anywhere near clubhouse archives . . . fuck.
Some things couldn’t be un-seen. Some people wouldn’t hesitate to make her disappear. And I knew exactly who those people were.
Sadie shook her head. “You keep saying that, but do you really believe there’s not more to it? I knew him better than anyone.” She took a breath, the pulse in her neck jumping, the same rhythm as my heart. “Maybe even better than you,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Well, maybe that’s the issue.” The words came out beforeI could shut my mouth. Still, they kept coming. “Maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought.”
I knew I’d crossed a line, but I didn’t care. If this was the only way to protect her, then I’d be the arsehole. Maybe I was punishing her, too. For leaving me to drown in this mess alone. Like a child, I was lashing out because that’s just what happened when I was around her—I turned into an idiot.
The look Sadie gave me hurt me more than any fist to the face could. More than the crack of bone, the splitting skin, and for a second, I thought the impact might just break me the fuck apart.
“Nice one, Rowan.” She sniffed, swiping at the tears tracking down her pink cheeks. Each tear she shed felt like a scar I didn’t earn the right to wear. They crumbled everything I’d tried to build up against her. Turns out I’d built it on rot. Her hazel eyes locked onto mine with a force that threatened to knock me out of the fight. “You’re a real fucking arsehole.”
My jaw tensed. I didn’t flinch, but damn, I felt it. Every syllable hit like coming off my bike at a hundred k’s an hour.
Then she stormed across the parking lot, the heat simmering around her as she swung open the car door and climbed inside. The slam of metal against metal echoed in the stillness. The entire world had paused just to watch me bleed. Even with my eyes closed, she was still there, like a burn mark I’d see every time I blinked.
