Page 53 of Beautiful Ruins
He flipped through the pages, his focus darting between the notebook and the article, confirming something in his own mind. “Fuck.” The word sat heavy in the room. It carried everything with it. “Your mum was investigating the Mayor, Sades. And I’m going to guess, he was working with the club as well.”
“What?” I snatched the article and the notebook from Rowan’s hand. Disbelief warred with what I already knew to be true. “How—oh shit.”
It was there. All of it, right in front of me, staring at me, daring me to connect it in a way that made sense. The article also listed every address my mother had written down.
Mayor Watson’s quote was a punch to the gut:Sometimes you have to tear things down before you can build something better.The greasy bastard was connected to it all. No wonder I’d hated the bloke all those years ago. Mum had always told me to trust my intuition.
The room fell silent, a tangible tension filling the air. I couldn’t be sure if we all shared the same explosive thought, but it was starting to feel like my mother had dug up a massive scandal before she died. The enormity of it hung there, words unspoken, yet as clear as a cloudless summer night.
Scout frowned as he glanced down at the list of addresses with a slight tilt of his head. “I know some of these,” he said, like it was a game of connect the dots. “My mates and I would go riding out the back of the Creek Street property. And the Knowles Street property runs right up to it. Been vacant for years.”
Rowan’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re sure?”
Scout nodded, taking a quick sip from his beer. “Me and my mates used to camp in the houses sometimes,” he said, oblivious to Rowan’s glare. “No-one lived in either of them. The Creek Street property was half burnt out from a fire. And the one on Knowles Street . . .” He shrugged. “All the crops died, something about soil contamination.”
We all knew, even though nobody had said it yet. There was no way all those properties had issues by coincidence. Bloody hell, the mayor had practically spelled it out.
Rowan met my stare head-on, tension tightening his jaw. His gaze burned into mine, but there was something else there, too. Fear? Resolve? Whatever it was, it mirrored mine.
Neither of us flinched from what we bothknew, even if it meant admitting all of this was way bigger than we’d asked for. But before either of us could say it, Jasmine’s gasp cut through the room.
“So, what we’re all not saying is . . .” She licked her lips, her gaze darting around the room at the serious faces. “The mayor was potentially tampering with the properties? And working with the Riders?” Her words sliced through the silence, but they weren’t a surprise.
I’d been thinking it, Rowan was thinking it. We were all thinking the same thing.
My mother was investigating the mayor because he was snatching up broken properties. And likely using the Ridge Riders to do his dirty work. That was the only conclusion I could come up with to explain why my mother would even have touched it.
“Scout,” I said. “Can you find those properties on a map?” I pulled out my phone, opening the maps app, and tossed it to him.
He nodded, quick and eager. “Yeah, I know that place like the back of my hand. I practically lived in the bush back in the day.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a slight twitch in his upper lips as though he was silencing what he really wanted to say. “You know, to get away from the old man.” His voice remained casual, like he was talking about the weather. Like it wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing ever to be admitted.
Jasmine stared at him, her gaze softening. Escape had always been my instinct, too. If I hadn’t run, I might’ve drowned in the dust and the grief—just like my father. I knew Jasmine had thought about it from time to time, too. We all knew that feeling, but none of us called it out.
The room had gone still, the only sound the faint tapping of Scout’s fingers against the screen. His focus remained unwavering, and with one final tap, he satback.
“Here.” The overhead light cast sharp shadows over the screen as Scout angled the phone for all of us to see. “That’s where the Creek Street property starts. Then as you move along, the Knowles Street property intercepts it.” He traced the unassuming pinpoints of the two properties, linking them together.
The land stretched far wider than I’d originally thought. We marked each address on the map, and by the time we were finished, there were five red dots, all surrounding each other, each one marking another acquisition in Watson’s scheme—whatever that was. He’d been hoarding them all.
What were broken-down shacks, worth nothing on their own, added up to something massive.
We just didn’t know why. Or how Hollow Creek Farm fit into it. But it was clear now. The map wasn’t just showing us land. It was showing us a plan.
Jasmine,Bear, and Scout finally left, and I sat on the floor with Rowan as we stared at the mess we had just uncovered. Neither of us said anything, not for a long while. I wasn’t sure what to say. I guess he felt the same.
I’d used up all my fight—against Marcus, against Rowan, against the entire fucking world. And I didn’t want to walk through the storm alone any longer.
“I should probably get going.” I pushed to my feet, my legs unsteady beneath me, and began gathering the mess into a neat little pile.
I needed things neat, contained. It was the only way I could deal with the chaos. Everything was way bigger than I’d letmyself believe. Two notebooks slipped from my fingers, and my heart skipped in my throat as crumpled paper and faded yellow Post-it notes scattered across the floor.
“Shit.” I dropped to my knees, my fingers fumbling as I scrambled to pick the items back up.
A rush of emotion took over, and an unexpected sob choked out of me, violent and sharp, tearing at my throat. As much as I tried to drag it back in, it was too much, too strong. It had lodged in my chest, unclaimed, for years. But now there was no stopping it. All the pain and guilt and loneliness I’d spent the better part of my life ignoring, reared their ugly heads and threatened to gut me right there on Rowan’s living room floor.
Digging into my mum’s past was digging into my own, and I was losing the fight against myself. I was losing everything.
Rowan was in front of me in seconds, his large hands cupping my face. “Hey,” he said, voice soft as he pulled me against his chest. “You’re okay, baby. Just let it out.”
