Page 141 of Beautiful Exile

Liar. Slut. Thief.

Holy hell.This was obsession. Rage.

“You bitch.” The words were low but filled with so much anger. There was no soft airiness like I normally heard in Hannah’s voice. There was only vitriol.

I whirled, taking in the woman I’d always thought of as a friend. Her red hair was piled on her head in an artful bun, her pale floral dress hugging her form. She looked beautiful, but there was nothing but hatred in her eyes as she filled the doorway. “Hannah, I?—”

“You what? It wasn’t enough that you made this whole night about you? You just had to invade my space on top of it?”

My jaw went slack. “No, I?—”

“You just had to throw yourself at Isaiah for the millionth time?”

Shock zinged through me as I tried to put the pieces together. The photos of Isaiah. The ones of me. I dropped my voice, trying togentle it as much as possible. “Isaiah and I are friends. That’s all. I’m with Linc. You know that.”

Hannah’s eyes flashed with rage. “But he’s not enough for you. You just have to keep Isaiah on the line. Give him just enough that he won’t let go. So he can’t see who else is right in front of him.”

Nausea slid through me as memories swept through my mind. The way Hannah flushed anytime Isaiah paid her attention. How she was always offering to help him load sculptures or upload new listings to the website. How she seemed to hover around the edges of anywhere he was.

“There’s nothing between us,” I said calmly. “There never has been.”

“You’re right. And there never will be,” Hannah muttered.

And that’s when I saw it. The X-ACTO knife clenched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles had turned completely white.

“Because you’re going away for good.” And then she lunged.

52

LINCOLN

My gaze sweptover the crowd as Luca and Keely did some sort of hopped-up-on-sugar dance in the middle of the gallery, joined by Benny and other faces I recognized from the kids’ workshop. But I didn’t see Arden anywhere.

I tried to pinpoint the last time I’d seen her in the crowd but, honestly, I wasn’t sure. That had an unsettled feeling sweeping over me. Moving through the guests, I found Trace talking to an older woman I didn’t recognize. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said to the woman, then turned. “Trace, have you seen Arden?”

He was instantly on alert. “Not since you had that big showdown with the douchebag.”

The woman let out a laugh. “Douchebag is the right term for him. Good job kicking him to the curb.”

I forced a smile. “Happy to do it.”

Trace placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It was good to see you, Louise. If you’ll excuse me, I need to hunt down my sister.”

She waved him off. “Of course, you boys enjoy your evening.”

“You, too,” I said, but I was already moving into the crowd, Trace at my side.

Isaiah looked up from chatting with two women. “Everything okay?”

“We can’t find Arden,” I said, my voice tight.

“I think she was going to check on the bartender.”

I nodded, instantly moving in that direction. A female bartender worked the station, handing out glasses of wine, sodas, and mixed cocktails. I didn’t even consider the rudeness of cutting a waiting patron off when I stepped up to the bar. “Have you seen Arden?”

The woman’s brows lifted slightly. “She was going to get me more wine and vodka. But that was a little bit ago.”

I shared a glance with Trace, my anxiety mounting. A muscle in his jaw ticked. “She probably got held up by someone she knows.”

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