Page 142 of Beautiful Exile

God, I hoped that was the case.

“What’s going on?” Farah asked as she walked up wearing her usual artist’s black. The only color present on her was the red slicked across her mouth.

“We’re looking for Arden,” I said, tension strangling my voice.

She grinned at me. “Man, you really are a goner, aren’t you? Can’t go five minutes without your girl. It’s adorable, really. I?—”

“Farah,” I cut her off. “Have you seen her?”

“She went to get more of the booze I stashed in Hannah’s supply closet.”

I didn’t wait to answer; Trace and I were already moving. We strode through the crowd and down the hall, coming up short at the doorway to Hannah’s studio. As we stepped inside, I heard it. Voices.

“Hannah, let’s just take a breath.”

Arden’s voice sent relief sliding through me, but not for long.

“I don’t want to take a goddamned breath,” Hannah snapped. “I want you to stop stealing all Isaiah’s attention. I want you to stop being such a show-off. It’s always aboutyou. Your art. Your hatred of the press. Your stupid charity projects.”

“I’m not?—”

“But he falls for it every time,” Hannah screeched. “He doesn’tknow who youreallyare. That you’re manipulating him. That you’re just doing it all so he’ll fall for you. But it’s not going to work.”

He doesn’t know who you really are.

The note we’d found on Arden’s windshield flashed in my mind.I KNOW WHO YOU REALLY ARE.

That was what this was all about? Isaiah? The note, destroying Arden’s studio,shootingat us?

Trace held up a hand, silently pulling a gun from the holster under his suit jacket. As he stepped farther into the main studio space, I followed behind. In a matter of steps, the closet’s opening came into view.

Hannah’s back was to us, Arden trapped inside, but it was the glint of silver metal that had my heart lurching. A knife.

My gaze connected with Arden’s over the top of Hannah’s head, and I swore relief swept through those gray-violet eyes. But it only made my gut tighten. Because there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help her.

And I wasn’t sure Trace could either. The space was too tight. If he took a shot, it could go through Hannah and hit Arden.

“Hannah,” Trace said, his voice taking on a robotic quality, one devoid of emotion. “This is the Mercer County Sheriff’s Department. Put your weapon down.”

The redhead whirled but kept the knife pointed at Arden. “No, no, no.” Her free hand tugged at her hair in desperate jerks. “You can’t be here. You can’t. This is my place. Mine and Isaiah’s. You can’t be here. Andshecan’t either.”

Hannah lunged forward like a fencer, and Arden narrowly avoided the jab.

“Hannah,” Trace warned. “Don’t do that. You move like that again, and I’ll have no choice but to shoot you. And I don’t want to do that.”

“You do want. You do.” Hannah tugged harder on her hair. “Because then she’ll have him. You’ll kill me, and she’ll take him.”

“She doesn’t want him.” I spoke the words before really thinkingthem through. I knew you really couldn’t reason with someone whose mind had warped in this way, but I had to try.

Hannah turned angry eyes in my direction. “I feel sorry for you. She’s just fooling you, too. Pretending to be someone she’s not. She’s greedy. One is never enough for her.”

“Linc is the only person for me,” Arden whispered. “The only one I want, now and forever.”

Everything in me tightened to the point of pain, ready to shatter into endless pieces. “Vicious.”

“Love you,” she croaked.

“LIES!” Hannah screamed the word, pulling harder at her hair. “Everything is lies. Even your art. Everyone thinks you’re so good, but it’s just scrap metal and bland paint. It’s nothing. Just like you.”

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