Page 28 of Beautiful Ruins
Seconds passed, then Rowan’s broad shoulders filled the entrance. I scrambled back, hugging my legs to my chest. Thesight of him had my breath catching in my throat, and I almost choked on the scent of old wood and Rowan. That same familiar warmth tugged at my chest, but I wasn’t going to give in to it.
He was the last person I wanted to see, especially after that morning. His words had their intended effect—making me question how well I really knew Logan.
“Get out.” My voice shook as I pointed to the open doorway. It wasn’t because I was crying. I didn’t care if Rowan saw my tears. But he didn’t belong there. “This isn’t your place.” I bit out the rest. “It’s Logan’s.”
Rowan didn’t even flinch at my words. Instead, he remained unmoving. Like the slightest twitch might cause me to bolt.
“Logan showed me,” he mumbled, his expression unreadable in the dim light filtering through the gaps in the walls.
I swiped the back of my hand across my cheeks, though it did nothing to stem the flow of torrential tears. “You’re lying. He wouldn’t bring you here. Not this place.” I shook my head and buried my face in my knees.
“The night before.” His voice was rough, as if the words sliced through his throat upon their exit. “He was different. Kept looking over his shoulder.”
My fingers curled around the photo still in my hand, and I glanced back up at him. A gust of wind slipped through the floorboards, stirring the photos like ghosts.
“Why would he bring you here?” Unless he’d had his death planned all along. And he’d trusted Rowan to take care of me instead.
Rowan finally moved, stepping inside the small space and settling against the opposite wall, the wood creaking beneathhim. He rested his arms on his knees, his leather cut tight across his shoulders.
“Sadie will come here,” he’d said. “She’ll need someone.” He rubbed a hand across the dark stubble on his jaw. “Those were his exact words.”
The photo crumpled in my grip, folding under my fingers like my heart had—slow, irreversible. “So, he did know,” I whispered. “He knew what he was going to do. He knew he was going to leave me.”
A sob burst out of me, tearing through my ribs like something feral. It hurt worse than the bruises. Worse than anything my body had ever survived.
I folded in on myself, my arms wrapped tight like I could stop the pieces from breaking off if I just held on. “Why would he do that? Why would he leave me all alone?”
“I should’ve seen it.” Rowan’s voice dropped, that ever-present anger cracking to reveal something raw underneath. “He was my little brother, and I didn’t . . .” He broke off, scrubbing his hands over his face. “But my fucking father—” His jaw tightened. “Him and Logan grew closer those last few months. And I didn’t ask why.”
The silence gnawed at my insides until Rowan finally spoke again, his words dragged from some place deep—some place he didn’t want to return to. “Found him in his room. The first thing I saw were his boots. They were new. He’d saved up for them, wanted to wear them to the formal.” His breath caught in his throat. “Called it in. Then you came tearing in like the world had ended.”
He pressed his palm to his chest, like he could still feel the moment there. It was the first time he’d spoken to me about that night.
My eyes burned with fresh tears. “I was supposed to meethim.” I held the note up. “If I’d just found this when I was supposed to, maybe?—”
“You were screaming.” Rowan barely registered that I’d spoken, his eyes growing distant. I knew that look. He remained trapped within his own nightmare. “I caught you before you hit the ground. You kept screaming his name over and over. You wouldn’t let anyone else near you. Just me. Like even then, part of you knew.” He shrugged, staring at the ceiling. “I come here sometimes. I enjoy being around Logan’s life . . . before. It’s one of the few things I have left of him. Of you.” The last words were whispered as though they weren’t meant for me.
But I heard them as though he had screamed them at me.
Another violent sob broke free from my chest, breaking Rowan’s trance. He reached toward me, then paused, his fingers curling mid-air. But then he shook his head, just the slightest of movements, and crawled across the splintered wood until he was beside me.
I traced Logan’s features on the photograph, my vision blurred. “I should have been there, Ro. I could have saved him.”
Part of me wanted to hate Rowan for being the one Logan had confided in. But I hated myself more.
Rowan wrapped me in his arms and pulled me to his chest. His leather smelled faintly of oil and smoke, grounding me in the moment like a tether to something real. I buried my head under his chin and held onto him for dear life. It was the same way he had held me the night Logan had died, his cheek pressed to the top of my head as he whispered repeatedly that everything was going to be okay.
“Logan loved you, Sades,” he said, sniffing. “More than anyone in his life—even me.” His heartbeat wassteady, his thumbs rubbing small circles against my upper arms. “But you need to let him go. It’s not good for anyone.”
I flinched at his words, heat rising up my chest. He still didn’t get it. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. Either way it felt like betrayal.
This wasn’t over. Rowan knew more—I could feel it simmering just beneath the surface of his hard exterior. I just didn’t know if it was his pain keeping it buried, or because he was a stubborn arsehole.
But I was done begging.
“No.” I shoved him away, the sharp contact jolting through my arms as I stumbled onto unsteady legs. The treehouse swayed under my raw, stinging feet. “So we’re back to this again?” I said, throwing my arms up. “You aren’t going to tell me what you know? You said Logan and your old man got close. Why? What was Logan afraid of?”
Rowan clenched his jaw. “Don’t, Sadie. You don’t want to pick at this.”
