Page 89 of Beautiful Ruins
“You fucking knew,” Rowan spat, the accusation harsh. “I asked you point blank this morning what the fuck happened, and you told me to trust you. That bastard came after her. Had her pinned to the ground, half . . . naked . . .” He choked on the words, swallowing the emotions he was forcing down.
“Ro?” I murmured.
Nothing. Not even a muscle twitch. His hands were still fisted in Dad’s shirt, violence barely contained. I had to end this before it got worse. Before I lost Rowan to his anger, or worse—to my father.
“Rowan?” I said again. I stood and placed a hand on Rowan’s bicep, the tension coiling beneath his skin a live thing. “It’s fine. Let him explain, and then he canleave.” I stressed the last word, purely for my father’s benefit.
I was done with this and done with him.
His feelings no longer mattered to me. My father was supposed to be the first man to keep me safe, the onewho should have shielded me from this exact kind of danger, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. It was Rowan who kept me safe. It was Rowan who loved me.
With one last shove, Rowan uncurled his fingers, releasing my father’s collar with a reluctant grunt. Then he stepped back, slowly, chest heaving. His trust in me was absolute, and he kissed my temple, the heat of this emotion searing my skin.
“Go on then, John,” he said. “Explain away.”
My father exhaled, sinking into the two-seater once again like a deflated balloon. “I didn’t have a choice, Sades,” Dad said, finally meeting my eyes as he sat forward, pressing his elbows into his knees. “Marcus came in with Snake—threw me off guard. I didn’t see it coming.” He swallowed and kept going, each word twisting the knife. “I thought . . .” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I thought I was doing what was best for you.” The desperation in his voice didn’t match the emptiness of his words. His gaze flicked to Rowan, a silent accusation. “You know better than anyone what this town—what the Riders can do.” He was baiting Rowan, trying to spread the blame like it might save him.
Rowan let out a sound, something between a grunt and a sarcastic laugh. “You should have told me when I asked you,” he said, his voice cold. “Hell, you should have warned Sadie her psycho ex was in town.” His arm tightened around my waist, his fingers digging in.
“I know,” Dad said, nodding. “I know this. But he promised he wouldn’t touch her if I got rid of the evidence. If I made it disappear.” His eyes were desperate. Pleading.
Did he honestly believe he was doing me some kind of favour?
Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, you’re great at sweeping things under the rug aren’t you, John?” His anger pulsed like a heartbeat, vibrating through both of us.
Dad’s focus finally shifted back to me, his eyes full of quiet desperation. “I’m sorry, Sades. This is my fault, and I should have protected you. I know I’ve failed you, but I hope you can forgive me.”
His apology tasted like poison, each word cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. I wanted to push it away, tell him it didn’t matter, but it still hurt. He was still my father, the one I used to love.
“Forgive you?” I huffed out a laugh, one so empty and bitter it almost hurt to hear. All the pain I’d been holding in finally tore loose, and I didn’t care who got hit with the shrapnel. “Forgive you for what exactly, Dad?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer. I didn’t even care what he had to say. He was a coward and a traitor, and the only way I could deal with it was to hit back hard. “I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re not the man I grew up admiring, the man who would take me patrolling in his police car and then stop to get ice cream.” That man would never have thrown me to Marcus. Would never have left me for dead. “You can’t even tell me the truth about what happened to Mum. To Logan.”
Rowan’s fingers tightened on my waist in silent support, anchoring me as though I might get swept away. I was surrounded by Rowan’s love and Dad’s betrayal all at once, and I did everything I could not to drown in it.
“What are you afraid of?” I said, throwing my hands up. “Or is it notwhatyou’re afraid of, but who?”
I could have let up, could have eased back and given him a break, but I’d already given him enough. I wasn’t going to be the one bending and breaking for him. Not anymore.
I drew in a ragged breath and kept pushing until his hurt matched mine. It was like running downhill, and all I could do was keep moving or crash and burn. “I didn’t even care for the things you let slide when it came to club. Hell, I’m in love withone of their members and this life with him is what I’m choosing.”
It was my choice. And he needed to understand that.
Dad’s face twisted like he wanted to say something. Instead, he remained suffocating in his own silence, holding my stare for a long while, his eyes unreadable. It changed nothing. With my father it was always two steps forward, five steps back.
Outside, a dog barked in the distance, a reminder that life had moved on while we were stuck in this storm. I understood there were things he couldn’t tell me, but it was the secrets he was holding onto that had nearly gotten me killed. Things I could never have imagined, not if I had a lifetime to guess. It was what destroyed everything between us, what left us as nothing but two ghosts of who we used to be.
“I’m sorry,” Dad finally said, like those two words might mean something.
They couldn’t take away the fact my ex almost raped me and beat me today while he stood on the sidelines and did nothing.
Now, Rowan had to put Marcus in the ground, had to dirty his hands because my father wasn’t willing to do the damn job himself. Rowan was the one who had to protect me, had to clean up the mess my father had made. Part of me wanted to forgive him, to hold on to the father I used to know. But I couldn’t. Not after everything he’d done to us. Not after what he’d cost us.
Dad gave us a small, sad smile, the kind that begged for pity. “Do I have to worry about him coming after Sadie again?”
Rowan’s jaw flexed. “No.”
Only one word was necessary.
Dad nodded. Then stood. “Good. I’ll make sure nothing comes of it.”
