Page 81 of Beautiful Exile

LINCOLN

Arden was twitchy.Not in a skittish way, but if I got too close, she put some distance between us. She thought I didn’t know that’s what she was doing, but she was wrong. Only I found it didn’t bother me this time. It was honestly adorable.

Because the thing Arden didn’t realize was that, even amid the push/pull of each interaction, I still ended up closer. To her scent. Her feel. Justher. And that was worth any price.

“Come on, Brutus,” I said, punching in the lock code to the front door. “I want you to know I got you a double patty. No singles for you. Think that means you won’t cockblock me next time?”

He looked up at me with eyes that said he thought I was ridiculous. He was probably right. Iwashaving a full-on conversation with a dog.

A scream tore through the air like a lightning strike, hitting my ears like a bolt slamming into the ground. I was running before I could think twice. The food and drinks fell, spilling out over the front stoop.

The run to the workshop was quick, barely a couple of seconds,but it felt like a lifetime passed in those beats. A million what-ifs swirled. Countless fears.

Brutus pulled ahead, snarling, barking, and charging into the studio. A place where Arden stood frozen. I scanned her quickly, checking for injuries, but I didn’t see any. Then my attention moved to the room, looking for an intruder. No one.

But that’s when I saw it.

Arden’s workshop had been all but destroyed. Supplies were strewn across the room, broken and smashed. Canvases had been slashed by what must have been a knife. And the metal statue Arden had been working on was toppled to the ground. Whoever had done this wasn’t just angry.

They were enraged.

But it was more than that. Because beyond the destruction was the blood. Splashed on the walls, across the floor, coating her statue and the sliced canvases. And written on the far wall…

YOU CAN’T HIDE.

Fury coursed through me. It was as if whoever had done this had infected me with their rage. I moved into Arden’s space and pulled her against me. My hands slid over her body, searching for reassurance—for her, for me, for us both. She trembled, and that slight movement, so unlike Arden, only stoked the fury coursing beneath my skin.

“You’re okay.” My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was as if some robot had spoken the words.

Arden just shuddered against me in response.

Fuck.

“You’re okay.” I spoke the two words again like they would miraculously work this time. “Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll call Trace and?—”

“The horses.” Arden jolted, ripping herself from my arms and taking off at a run.

I cursed, quickly running after her, Brutus right by her side. We didn’t have the first clue if whoever had done this was still around, getting his rocks off by watching. Or worse, waiting to strike.

“Arden,” I barked. “We need to get to the house. We need cover and to call the fucking cops.”

She sent me a look that should’ve had my skin blistering. “They are mine. They save me over and over, just like my art. I’m not leaving them alone.”

Hell.

I didn’t argue. I simply pulled out my phone and hit Trace’s contact as I scanned the surroundings. He answered on the second ring. “Everything okay?”

“No.”

“Talk,” he clipped, but I could hear him already moving through the station.

“Someone trashed Arden’s studio. Left behind a threatening message and a lot of blood.” I didn’t want to think about what that blood could be from.

“Get her somewhere safe and lock yourselves in. I’m on my way and sending units.”

“That might be a problem,” I muttered.

Arden rushed to the fence line, slipping between the rails and into the pasture. Her two horses moved to her instantly, and I watched as her shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of no visible injuries on the animals. She pressed her head to the gray one’s as the tan nuzzled her neck.

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