Page 75 of Beautiful Ruins
“I’m coming,” I muttered, already easing the back door closed. “Don’t have an aneurysm.” My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out Scout’s mumbling on the other end.
I ended the call and shoved my phone in my pocket, slipping out into the dark.
Overgrown weeds clawed at my ankles like tiny skeletal fingers as I crept along the side of the house. The air hummed with the cooling of early evening, soaked with the smell of petrol and smoke.
Voices drifted from the driveway. My entire body locked up, and I pressed myself against the siding, powdery white dust flaking off onto my black shirt.
A gravelly laugh sent a chill down my spine. Another man’s voice joined in, unfamiliar, but just as menacing.
I inched towards the corner, heart racing, knees about to give way. I pulled out my phone again, steadying my shaking hands as I peered around the edge of the house.
Nicky and a burly man with a shaved head stood by a sleek black Harley, their heads bent close in conversation as the dim porch light flickered overhead. I snapped several quick photos, praying the shutter sound wouldn’t give me away. I shouldn’t have dragged Scout into this. But it was too late to turn back now.
Adrenaline surged through me as I crept backwards, eachstep like a drumbeat in my ears. Once I was out of view, I darted across the overgrown yard, my breath coming in quick gasps as I tore down the street to where Scout waited by my car, practically bouncing out of his skin.
The only light came from a flickering porch bulb two houses down, casting the street in long, ghost-like shadows.
The relief on his face was almost too much for me to bear, and when he grabbed me and pulled me against his chest, my emotions almost brought me to my knees.
“Jesus, Sadie,” he said through gritted teeth, “I thought you were done for.”
“Not yet,” I said through panted breaths as I squeezed him like I never wanted to let him go.
Scout let out a long exhale. “Just so you know, I like yellow daisies.” I pulled back enough to look up at him, and he shrugged. “For my funeral after Rowan kills me.”
I didn’t deserve his trust. But I needed it more than oxygen.
“What the hellare you smiling about?” Jasmine said from behind the bar, her smirk barely hidden as she expertly polished a glass until it sparkled.
She never missed a damn thing, especially with me.
I stifled my grin, pressing my lips together, but it was a failed attempt to hide from her. Jasmine’s knack for reading people was uncanny, almost as if she possessed some kind of sixth sense. It had been a while since a smile felt this real. Not something I wore to keep people comfortable—just mine.
The reasons for letting my guard down were numerous. Snake was locked up where he should have been, hopefullysuffocating under the weight of his misery. I was also pretty sure Scout hadn’t rattled me out, based on the fact Rowan hadn’t hightailed it back to Barrenridge just to rip me a new one. If anything, our connection was starting to feel less like a charade and more like something real. At least to me.
I stared at Rowan’s last text message. He’d sent it as he was leaving Sydney about an hour before.
Rowan: On my way, Firefly. Hope you’ve been behaving.
I shook my head and slipped my phone into my handbag, attempting to hide from her curiosity. “None of your business.” My voice gave me away—too light, too playful to pass as casual.
The old Sadie was clawing her way to the surface, no longer drowning in guilt and never-ending grief. Sometimes, just the simple act of looking at Rowan was enough to quiet the storm inside my head.
In all the wrong that surrounded this town, having people I loved back in my life was just . . . right. The home I’d abandoned years ago was now growing roots again.
Jasmine arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into the same teasing smile she used to wear whenever Rowan had strutted around shirtless, mowing the yard like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. I couldn’t hide the way my cheeks flushed back then. Nothing had changed.
“Oh, yeah?” she said, filling the glass with ice and coke and sliding it over to me. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain tall, dark and handsome VP, now would it?”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe.” I traced the condensation on the glass, pretending his voice wasn’t still echoing in my head from this morning.
Jasmine rolled her eyes dramatically. “God, Sades. You’ve got it bad, girl.”
I pointed a finger at her, as if to deflect her words. “It’s not like that.” The words felt thin, even to me. “It’s just pretend.”
I didn’t tell her how he looked at me this morning. Or how I still felt it, hours later, like a fingerprint pressed to my skin.
Or maybe I’d made it all up again. Just like I used to when I was sixteen and didn’t know the difference between real love and wishful thinking. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d let my mind weave fantasies about Rowan Knight that had no basis in reality.
