Page 38 of Beautiful Ruins
But it was too late. I was already there, and I was already bleeding from the inside out.
Jazz was right behind me, her heels scraping over the loose rocks in the parking lot. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she said, shaking her head. “Remember to ease your way in. If you come in like a bull at a gate, we’re both dead.”
I nodded as I chewed on my bottom lip. The truth was, I couldn’t believe it, either.
We paused in front of the large door. Rusted metal and bad intentions seemed to hold it together. From inside, the faint thud of bass leaked through the seams. There was no going back now.
Jasmine took my hand, giving it a quick squeeze, and pushed open the chain-link door into the Ridge Riders’ clubhouse. My stomach knotted up as the stench of cigarette smoke and sweat collided with me so hard I almost choked on it.
Low-hung lanterns threw a sickly orange glow over everything. I paused just inside the door, my heart hammering. Everything was familiar but twisted—the same way my life had felt ever since I’d left. Like I didn’t belong anywhere anymore.
“Come on, Coop. We’ve come this far.” Jasmine pulled me across the tiled floor, through the thick haze of smoke, her grip more like a lifeline than a guide.
She was trying to keep me moving before I had time to freak out and bolt back to the safety of her car. Or maybe she understood what I hadn’t wanted to admit—that a part of me was still afraid to be back there.
Men in denim and leather cuts, Ridge Riders patches stitched into their vests, packed the place, women hanging off them in droves. Most turned their head like a pack of wolves who’d caught a scent, eyes narrowing in on me. Their stares pressed down like claws. I was a mouse in a room full of hungry cats, and I fought the urge to run straight back out the door.
Jasmine was right. Every step deeper made the place feel more dangerous. She continued to drag me across the floor, past the old jukebox that was cranking out some old rock anthem. It was enough to drown out the thud of my racingheart, but not enough to drown out the roar of my own fear. My fingers trembled as I forced myself to breathe and put one foot in front of the other.
“Sit.” Jasmine shoved me down onto a stool in front of the bar, her gaze darting around the room.
Had she expected trouble to break out at any second? If so, I doubted we’d have made it out of there without someone’s big, grubby hands snatching us first. Or worse. After all, the Riders had their greedy hands wrapped around this entire town, from the cops—my father, mostly—to the local businesses.
Christ, even Logan and I had known it as thirteen-year-olds stealing beer from his old man’s fridge, that the Ridge Riders weren’t people you messed with. Troy—Logan and Rowan’s father—had always gambled, smoked and dragged us to the clubhouse for ‘five minutes,’ often turning into hours. But that hadn’t been all. We’d found stashes of cash hidden in behind old boxes of ice cream in their freezer. The first time, Logan’s eyes had widened to the point I thought they’d pop right out of his head.
Is that why Rowan wanted me to stay away from finding answers? Because Logan had somehow gotten himself involved in club business before he died? Rowan had mentioned Logan, and his old man had become close at the end. The more I thought about it, the more I realised I might not have known my best friend at all. Now I had more questions than answers.
Logan wasn’t there to hand them over. But the Ridge Riders were still very much there and being that close to them again was like standing on the edge of a minefield. One wrong step and I would be done for.
Jasmine placed her hands on my shoulders, squeezing like she was trying to transfer some of her courage to me. She’dmanaged to make a home for herself here, yet I was still an outsider.
She leant in close, her voice a low murmur against my ear. “Remember, behave yourself.”
I saluted her, my faux act of bravery barely convincing me. “You got it, Boss.”
She rolled her eyes. I wasn’t sure how far I could push my luck with her just yet, so I sat where she wanted me and waited for her to make her way around the bar. The room felt like it was closing in on me, but there was no way I was doing anything to make Jasmine second-guess helping me. I’d behave, just as she’d asked.
I could still picture Logan and Rowan at the pool table, Iron nodding with quiet approval next to Troy, as though he was figuring out how to reel them in, lure them deeper into his world. The thought made my skin crawl, each passing second reminding me that Logan was gone, and Rowan wasn’t the one standing near the table. He was now the one calling the shots.
I scanned the room for him, for that tall frame, that messy brown hair pushed back in a mop of loose waves. But there were only unfamiliar faces in a sea of bare skin and leather cuts.
I told myself it was a good thing, that his absence was a blessing. It didn’t matter how many times I repeated the words, disappointment still pinched inside my chest.
A shadow fell across the bar, cutting through the dim light. I didn’t have to look to know whose attention I had caught. My heart climbed into my throat, and I whipped my head to the side.
Snake casually leaned against the bar, his tall frame draped in black. His grin spread slowly across his face like a stain as he surveyed me with a crooked smile.
“Well, if it isn’t the chief’s daughter,” he said. The bastard didn’t even bother to hide the smugness in his words.
“Just wanted to see what the inside of a cliché looked like. Didn’t disappoint.” I fired off the first thing that came to my mind, infusing the words with the same sharpness I was getting from the looks around me.
I knew his game. He wanted to rattle me, to show me I didn’t belong there, just like he had that first night I met him outside my house. But I’d spent enough time around arseholes like him that I wasn’t easily scared off. I’d stabbed one, for Christ’s sake.
Snake didn’t even flinch at my words. Didn’t blink. He tapped a black biker boot against the scratched-up tiles, his eyes cold and calculating as they travelled over me.
“Can I get you a drink?” he said, pretending like it was a real question. “Or something else? Maybe a little direction.” His grin widened. “Or does your daddy have that covered for you?”
Something about him had my hackles rising, the fear I’d walked in here with morphing into courage.
