Page 143 of Beautiful Exile

“Is that why you destroyed her studio?” Trace asked, his voice still remarkably calm.

“I destroyed her lies,” Hannah spat. “Isaiah wouldn’t stop talking about it that day. Howamazingit was that Arden had organized all those workshops. How much the kidslovedher. I couldn’t take it. I had to let her know that I saw the real her, that she couldn’t hide behind that do-no-wrong façade. She had to stop distracting Isaiah so he could seeme.”

Hannah jabbed the knife forward as if to punctuate the point. “I told Isaiah and Farah that I had a headache. That I had to leave. And I did. Her lies make me feel like my head’s going to explode. I’dneverlie to Isaiah. Not likeyou,” she spat at Arden.

“What did you do, Hannah?” Trace asked softly, trying to keep her talking.

She let out a huff of air. “I know Cope has cameras, so I stole my brother’s football pads, a hoodie, jeans, and that stupid mask he bought for Halloween last year. But it was good because I wanted you scared. It was a warning. But she just wouldn’t listen. She’s too damn selfish.”

I tried to follow her thinking, but the logic seemed to be Hannah’s alone, something that didn’t quite fit. But she held on to it with a death grip.

“So, you tried to shoot her instead?” Trace pressed.

“She deserves to die!” Hannah cried.

Then she lunged again. Arden’s eyes went wide, shock and panic filling them because she had nowhere to go. Hannah let out a scream that sounded more animal than human as Arden tried to evade her. But it was too late.

All I could see was blood.

53

ARDEN

I wincedas Dr. Avery released his hold on my hand and pinned me with a stare. “Are you sure you don’t want those painkillers?”

I shook my head and leaned against the massive sectional in Cope’s living room, Brutus at my feet. “The Tylenol’s good enough.”

Linc’s frustration and anger hit me in waves from where he sat next to me on the couch. “Take the pills. There’s no reason for you to be in pain. It’s somethingyouremindedmeof not that long ago.”

I twisted in my seat, resting a knee still covered in silk on his thigh. The poor pink dress had blood splatters on it now. I had a feeling those didn’t come out of silk. “I’m okay,” I promised him. “Need to brush up on disarming an opponent, but Kye’ll deal with that.”

I’d managed to grab Hannah’s wrist and twist her arm behind her back, breaking her grip on the blade. But not before it clipped my palm. It wasn’t horribly deep, but it had been a bleeder, which hadn’t made Linc or Trace all that happy.

“Damn straight. We’ll hit the gym as soon as the stitches are out,” Kye said from the opposite side of the sectional. He was tryingto keep it light, but I saw the shadows in his amber eyes. Fallon saw them, too, and was sticking close, making sure he didn’t do anything stupid to try to bury those demons.

My whole family was worried—my friends, too—which was why we were currently piled into Cope’s living space. I was doing my best to assure them that I was okay, but none of them seemed to believe me. All I’d ended up with was a slice across the palm while Hannah had landed in cuffs.

Isaiah scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m so?—”

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, I’m going to attackyouwith an X-ACTO knife,” I clipped.

No one laughed.

“Come on,” I pressed. “It’s a little funny.”

Linc leaned in, pressing a kiss to my head. “Gonna take a long time to see any humor in this, Vicious.”

Farah shot me a grin. “I thought it was a little funny. But I also know that if I laughed, Isaiah would’ve smacked me, so…”

My lips twitched. “I can always count on you.”

“To be inappropriate,” Isaiah amended. His gaze gentled on me. “Let me say it one more time, and then I’ll be done.”

I let out a long breath. “Okay.”

“I’m so damn sorry. I had no idea she was fixated on me like that. I thought we were friends. I just—I feel responsible somehow.”

My stomach twisted as I thought of everything Isaiah was trying to parse through right now. And how violated he must feel. Because some of the pictures on that wall were of very private moments.

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