Page 72 of Beautiful Ruins
The truth was, I didn’t know if my word was worth a damn thing. Not after the blood on my hands. Not after the lies I was still untangling. But if I didn’t have that—my word—I had nothing but the hollow ache in my chest and a pile of bad intentions.
When you wore a patch, your word was all you had, and the arsehole knew that as well as I did.
He rubbed his forehead, staring at the ground. “Yeah, because it’s that easy.”
A light breeze split the curtains, stirring the dust, and striping John’s face like prison bars. He was hiding behind something, I just didn’t know what.
“There’s more, isn’t there, John? Why do I sense it’s going to be your lies that’ll get her killed?” I let the questions hang in the air.
He didn’t answer, which told me more than I wanted to know. Hell, it didn’t take much to scare me, but I couldn’t shove down the chill that crawled up my spine. He was hiding something from Sadie, something dangerous.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “Just . . . make sure she’s safe.” He met my eyes, his face tight, worry etched into every line. He looked every bit the broken man, one who didn’t know what to do next. Or maybe he knew all too well, and it was killing him. “No matter what.” With that, he turned his back on me and disappeared out the front door, head down.
The silence that followed was heavier than the conversation.
Sadie appeared at the bottom of the stairs as soon as the door slammed shut. I hadn’t even gathered my thoughts or steadied my breathing.
“What did my father want?” she said, skipping the small talk.
She didn’t move towards me, just stood there like she was afraid if she came closer, the truth might physically knock her on her arse. Not that I blamed her.
I ran a hand through my hair, an attempt to buy myself some time. She wouldn’t let up, I knew that much.
“He wanted to talk about Snake’s case,” I said, forcing myself to meet her eyes. “I made a deal with your old man.” Each word fell out heavier than the last.
Sadie’s eyes narrowed. “About?”
“Before the shooting, your father found a print on the murder weapon from those cult killings,” I said, waiting for the coin to drop. “It matches Snake.”
Sadie’s eyebrows shot up, and she tensed. “And you didn’t think to tell me this before?”
I scrubbed at my jaw, the weight of her accusation pressing down on me. “It’s complicated, Sadie.”
“Complicated?” She scoffed, her hazel eyes darting over my face. “Try me.”
I groaned, letting my shoulders relax slightly. “Your father was going to make sure the evidence stuck, and I made plans—or rather Bear made plans after I was shot—to make sure Snake never made it out of prison alive. The shooting just held things up a little.”
Sadie’s face paled, and she frowned. “You were planning his execution?”
I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing my hands together. “Yeah, I was. Snake’s been gunning for my position for years, always looking for a way to take me down. And now, with the proof that he tried to kill me . . .” I trailed off, meeting Sadie’s wide-eyed gaze. “It was the only way, Firefly.”
Sadie’s mouth fell open, and she shook her head like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Never said I was the good guy in her fairytale.
I needed her to know the truth, even if it cracked the fragile thing somehow holding us together.
I stood and closed the distance between us, ignoring the pain shooting through my side. “But it wasn’t just about the club, Sades. It was about keeping him away from you.”
She swallowed hard, her gaze falling to the floor. “I didn’t ask you to do that for me.”
“You didn’t have to.” I reached out, gently tilting her chin, half expecting her to pull away.
But she didn’t.
“You’d kill for me?” she whispered.
I ran a thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
