Chapter 16 #2
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 both knew, 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 sat back.
“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 let myself 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.”
It was the gentlest he’d been with me since I’d arrived back home, and I couldn’t help but gravitate towards him. I’d been orbiting around his stability since I was a kid.
My breath caught in my throat, and I collapsed against him, my sobs breaking free in full-blown wails.
I clutched at his cotton shirt like it was the only thing keeping me alive.
Rowan and I were destined to repeat the same dance repeatedly—me losing it, him keeping me together.
It had been the same way the night Logan had taken his life, and I’d held onto Rowan with everything I had left.
Maybe I was finally losing my mind. Or maybe I was just letting the pain in for the first time.
I wasn’t sure which was worse. It hurt more than I wanted it to, but I guess that’s what happened when you spent years not feeling much of anything—when the pain finally clawed its way to the top, all you could do was hold on and pray you survived to see the sunrise once again.
Rowan’s heartbeat remained steady, grounding me in the moment. “We’ll get to the bottom of it, whatever happened. I promise.”
My entire body shook, my world shifting beneath my feet.
“He never said goodbye, Ro. Logan just left us. He could’ve said something.
Could’ve told someone.” I gripped Rowan’s shirt tighter, my fingernails almost tearing right through the thin fabric.
“He left me. Left me alone and I can’t ever forgive him. ”
My head fell against his chest, and I cried loud and ugly. I needed it—needed him. He smelled of cologne with the hint of motor oil. I never realised how much I’d missed it until then. It was like coming home after an extended holiday.
He had no idea how much this was breaking me, pushing me past everything I’d already crumbled beneath. Or maybe he did. Maybe he knew more than I did, and that’s why he was holding me as close as he was.
Rowan cupped the back of my neck, pressing his cheek to the top of my head. “This isn’t your fault, Sades. None of it is your fault. I was his brother. If anyone should have seen the signs, it should have been me. But . . . I need to show you something.”
Sniffing, I tilted my head, blinking back the blur of tears the same way I’d tried to blink back the blur of our past. “What is it?”
“You’re not going to like it, but you deserve to know the truth.” He peeled himself out from beneath my body, hesitating for a moment before he disappeared up the staircase.
I swiped at my face, my eyes already burning from everything I’d just let out. What was worse was the waiting. If my mother had been investigating the mayor—and the club— then the story I’d told myself about her death was unravelling fast.
And whatever Rowan had to show me was likely going to unravel it even further.
He reappeared a minute later, and dropped back onto the floor beside me, his thigh brushing up against mine. The dim light in the corner flickered, almost as though it knew what I was about to discover deserved a moment of impending doom.
Without a word, Rowan handed me an old phone, the screen cracked in the top right corner.
My eyebrows shot up and my focus darted to Rowan. “Logan’s phone?” The question slipped out, but I already knew the answer.
I remembered when he’d broken it doing wheelies in the street. It had fallen from his pocket. He’d been pissed because he’d only bought it the previous week. I hadn’t failed to mention it was his own fault, which led to him chasing me down the street spraying me with a can of coke.
My hands shook as I tapped the screen and swiped it open.
Rowan’s silence was suffocating. Each breath dragged, uneven, like he was barely holding it together.
Whatever was on the phone was threatening to tear him apart.
Even the room felt colder now, the weight of what was coming sucking the heat from the air.
“The messages,” Rowan murmured, the words barely audible over the rush of blood in my ears. I nodded absently and opened the message app. “Top one.” Rowan didn’t even bother looking.
He knew exactly what I was going to find. A message thread between Logan and his dad opened, and I scanned each one until I reached the final few.
I shook my head. “No . . . he—” I cut myself off, my hand flying to my mouth.
Rowan’s eyes met mine, the desperation matching mine—an open wound that refused to heal. Something had cracked, and he was mourning his brother all over again.
“Logan had somehow gotten caught up in club business.” His voice trembled, and I tried to force down the panic that was clawing its way out of my chest. “He went to Dad, Sades, and the bastard did nothing. Then he tried to warn me, and I thought he was being dramatic. I should have fucking listened.” He scrubbed his hands over his face like he could rub away the grief.
Words formed on my tongue, but none of them made sense in that moment. I scrolled through the messages again.
The first one, dated two days after my mother’s death.
Logan: Dad, I fucked up. I need your help. Just talk to Iron, tell him I’ll keep my mouth shut.
Dad: It’s okay bud, I’ll sort it. Everything’s going to be alright. Just keep your brother out of it for now.
Again, a month later.
Logan: Dad, seriously. I think Rowan suspects something. Are we all good?
Dad: Just keep your head down. Tell Rowan nothing.
Two days before graduation, before Logan . . .
I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I couldn’t even bear to think about it.
Logan: I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to tell her. She deserves to know the truth, even if she hates me.
Dad: Keep your mouth shut, son. I’m dealing with it.
The night of graduation.
Logan: I’m telling her. I’m done.
That was it. No response from Troy, just Logan’s plea for help left on read like he hadn’t been worth the seconds it would have taken to save his life.