Page 44 of Beautiful Exile

I didn’t miss that one tiny word. I’d never been awe. Not even before my father’s greed ripped my life apart. I’d always simply beenme.

Something about being a part of something larger was nice. Even if just for a handful of moments. I didn’t feel quite so alone.

“I’ll be careful,” I muttered, reaching for the white bag. Brutus was already sitting politely, a little drool gathering at the side of his mouth at the prospect of a french fry or a bite of burger.

Linc snatched the bag just before I could get it. “Promise me.”

My jaw went the slightest bit slack. “Are you holding The Pop’s delicious, caramelized onion cheeseburger over my head?”

His brow arched as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “I’m not above using food to get what I want.”

“Of course, you’re not,” I mumbled. But Linc showed no signs ofhanding over the goods. “Fine. Fine. I promise I’ll be careful. I won’t even turn my phone on silent.”

Linc lowered the bag and handed it to me. “That’s better.”

I fished my burger out of the bag. “You play dirty.”

“No, I play to win.”

Goose bumps rose on my skin at the promise of his words, but I shoved the awareness down, reaching for something—anything—else. “I’m surprised you left poor little defenseless me alone to go pick up dinner.”

“I didn’t.”

My gaze lifted to Linc’s face. “They don’t deliver way out here.”

That mischievous grin was back, the one I was growing addicted to. “They do if you offer to pay the driver a hundred bucks.”

A laugh bubbled out of me as I rolled my eyes. “Money doesn’t solve everything, but I guess it does when it comes to cheeseburgers.”

The smile I was coming to adore slipped from Linc’s face. “Doesn’t solve everything. Not even close.”

17

LINCOLN

Something about how she said,“Money doesn’t solve everything,”hit. But right along with that came another blow I wasn’t expecting.

Doubt.

I wondered if I tossed cash around with too much callous disregard—just like my father.

Arden lowered her burger and set it on the coffee table. “I was just joking. I didn’t mean?—”

I waved her off. “It’s fine.”

Her expression hardened, and that stubborn fire blazed to life. “It’s not.”

I opened my mouth to speak, to let loose some sort of brush-off, but Arden cut me off.

“Don’t lie to me.” Those gray-violet eyes were pleading now. “You don’t have to talk about whatever put those shadows in your eyes, but don’t lie. Not when I told you about the hardest moments of my life.”

A curse slipped free. She was right. I’d be a bastard of the highest order if I fabricated some elaborate alternate reality for why herwords had tripped my trigger. But laying that shit bare? That wasn’t in my nature.

When you laid it all out there, it meant people could use it against you. Just like my father had.

My gaze moved to the painting in the center of the room. It grabbed hold—like Arden’s art always did. But this one was different somehow. Even more honest. More raw.

I stared at the bleeding heart. The brambles could be protecting it or imprisoning it. Or maybe they were simply an allegory for the harshness of the outside world. But then there were the flowers. Blooming despite it all.

---