Page 67 of Beautiful Ruins
A door slammed somewhere out the front of the club, and the bottled-up tension of the last few hours—maybe the last six years—rattled loose in my chest. Raised voices echoed down the hallway, sharp and defiant, but one cut through the rest, snapping me into reality. My father’s.
The sound wrenched me out of the heavy chemical trance I’d been suffocating in since Rowan took a bullet. He’d been drifting in and out of consciousness, but the doctor was positive he’d make a full recovery.
I hadn’t seen or heard from my father in days, but what did I expect him to do after a crisis? This was Chief Cooper’s way of processing trauma—demanding answers with a raised voice.
I blinked and dragged my gaze from Rowan’s sleeping form to Bear, slouched in the corner with a book in hand and his legs sprawled like he owned the place. He was already staring at me,his lips pressed together in a thin line. He slammed the book shut and tossed it onto the table beside him, resigned to the fact he wasn’t going to be picking it up again any time soon.
He nodded toward the closed door, jerking his chin at the sound of scuffling feet and muffled curses. “Sounds like your old man’s finally figured out whose arse to kick.” He stood, towering and broad. And tired. “Just wait here, Sadie.”
“Like hell,” I said, pushing up from my chair. My world had gone to hell, and I’d be damned if I let someone else—especially my old man—get one up on me. “It’s my dad, Bear. And if he’s here, shit must’ve hit the fan. Maybe he’s got something on what happened to Rowan. To you. On who did it.”
Bear stared down at me, weighing his next move. He exhaled. He knew there was no point arguing with me over this. “Fine,” he said, running a large hand down his face. “But stay close. Snake and Nicky have been hovering like flies on shit. I don’t fucking trust them.”
I gave him a tight, forced smile and followed him out into the dimly lit bar room. The tension clung to me, crawling over my skin like a thick fog. My stomach dropped at the sight. Snake—of all people—was pinned against a rough wooden wall like the criminal he was, my father handcuffing him with practiced ease.
What the fuck was happening?
“Dad?” I said, the word uncertain.
I was still running on the adrenaline that had carried me through the past few hours while I sat by Rowan’s stitched-up torso knocked out on painkillers.
Dad snapped his head in my direction, his stern gaze softening for the briefest of moments, reminding me that somewhere underneath the badge was still the man who’d taught me to ride a bike and throw a punch.
Then his expression resettled into that steely facade I’d come to know well. “Sadie, stay out of this,” he said, jamming Snake’s head forward with a shove.
I wanted to hate him for barking orders. But some part of me—the same part that once ran to him after every skinned knee—ached with relief that he was finally there.
Snake groaned, the left side of his face mashed into the rough surface. “You’ll fucking regret this, Chief. You think you’ve won? You’ve got no idea what you’ve just kicked loose.”
Dad scoffed. “Regret taking a piece of shit like you down? I don’t think so,” he said, his laugh colder than the air-conditioned hum of the room. “Newsflash arsehole, you’ve been a stain on this town since you crawled out of your mother. I should’ve put you away years ago.”
The only people in the room who weren’t even pretending to intervene were the two Barrenridge officers flanking the door. One I recognised as Shane Elliot. The other, no idea. They both eyed Bear’s hundred-plus kilos of pure muscle and must’ve decided standing back was the smarter move. Even so, they loosened their holsters.
“What am I even under arrest for?” Snake said, voice muffled by the wall. “I haven’t done shit.”
“You want to try again?” Dad yanked Snake’s arm back at a brutal angle, almost dislocating it. He leaned in to Snake’s ear. “Not only do I have your fingerprints on a murder weapon from the Stone case, but I’ve also got three witnesses saying they saw your bike in the vicinity of a shooting last night. That’s two dead, one of your own. You want to explain that?”
Snake just grinned, teeth stained red. “You want to explain why half this town thinks you’re in the Ridge Riders’ pocket? Don’t play hero, Chief. We both know you’re just as dirty as the rest of us.” His gaze flicked to me, and a slow, ugly smile spread across his face. “How’s your daughterenjoying the club life, Chief? You know she’s fucking our VP, right?”
My hands trembled at my sides, and I clenched them into fists to stop myself from going after Snake. A hot flush crawled up my neck. Part of me wanted to correct him. The same part that wished it weren’t pretend at all.
For a second, Dad’s grip loosened. Snake twisted hard and drove an elbow into my father’s ribs. Dad grunted but didn’t let go. Instead, he dug in and slammed Snake’s forehead into the wall so hardmyears rang.
“You fucker.” Bear went straight for Snake, his voice a low, vibrating growl.
The two officers rushed in, reaching for Bear’s arms, but it was no use. He just shrugged them off like they weighed nothing.
Dad jumped back. Snake bolted, but Bear grabbed him by the vest and slammed him to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs.
He wrapped a hand around Snake’s throat and cocked his other arm back. “You tried to kill us. You think I’m going to let that slide?” He slammed his fist into Snake’s face, once, twice, each hit reverberating through the silence.
On the fifth punch, something wet and red sprayed across the floor. Snake screamed, then whimpered like the pathetic arsehole he was.
Dad stared at the scene for a moment, something dark flickering in his eyes. Then he snapped into motion, grabbing Bear’s upraised fist before it landed again. “Enough, son.”
But Bear was too far gone. His rage had tipped him over the edge. He twisted free and punched Snake again, this time catching the bridge of his nose. The sick crunch was even more horrifying for how final it sounded.
And still Snake kept taunting. “You’re still a fucking weakpiece of shit, Bear. Couldn’t even save your VP, now he’s—” The next punch cut him off, teeth spraying from his mouth in little arcs across the tiled floor.
