20. Arden

20

ARDEN

The woman standing in my driveway was a picture. She’d obviously just gotten off a plane but looked like she was about to walk a runway. She wore wide-leg, cream pants I would’ve stained in two seconds flat, a thin brown belt with a gold H clasp holding them in place. A figure-hugging, wide-strapped tank was tucked in, and a blue-and-white-striped sweater curled around her shoulders. To complete the outfit, a handful of gold necklaces ringed her neck.

And you couldn’t miss the massive diamond on her ring finger. But the only thing that didn’t fit was the worn, navy blue Yankees cap on her head. It had history. Not the kind of wear artificially put in place by a designer. This was real wear. The kind that came from donning the cap countless times for hours on end.

“El Bell,” Linc chastised.

“What?” she asked with mock innocence. “I would never want to be accused of being a cockblock.”

Linc barked out a laugh, and Ellie flew at him. He caught her in the air, swinging her around as she laughed loud and free. The sound hit me square in the chest, making an ache take root there.

Their bond was as clear as day. It was borne of a lifetime of history and deep affection. I wished I had that lifetime with my siblings. Sometimes, I wondered how different I would be if I’d been born into the Colson family instead of placed there at age twelve. Would I have been more normal? Would I have fewer demons? I bet I would sleep a hell of a lot better.

Linc set Ellie on her feet, her chunky-heeled boots kicking up dust. “What are you doing here?”

She grinned up at him, but I saw a hint of shadows in her pale green eyes. “Can’t a girl surprise her big brother?” She glanced at me, her smile still just as warm, and the shadows now hidden. “He wouldn’t shut up about this place. I had to see it for myself.”

“Welcome. I’m Arden.” I glanced down at myself and winced. “And I need to get dressed.”

Ellie giggled. “No need to get out of PJs on my account. Besides, I’m kind of obsessed with your T-shirt.” Her eyes lit. “And your big, beautiful dog. Hello, love of my life,” she cooed.

Brutus’s tale thumped against the patio stone in answer, but he didn’t go to her.

“Freund, Brutus. Freigeben,” I said, releasing him.

Brutus went straight to Ellie, who crouched low, all but throwing her arms around him. “Aren’t you just the most handsome love? And so smart, speaking German.”

Linc glanced from his sister to me. “Ellie loves dogs.”

“Do you have one at home?” I asked.

She glanced up at me, a hint of sadness playing over her features. “Not yet. Maybe when we get a place outside the city.”

Linc’s mouth thinned into a hard line. I guessed he wasn’t a fan of the fiancé, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the story was there.

“Come on in,” I said, heading inside. “I’m just going to change real quick.”

I was already darting for my bedroom, and not just because I was in my pajamas. I was unsettled and needed to get my bearings. Linc was throwing my routine existence out of whack, making me realize the palette I’d been painting with was all shades of gray while he splashed a vibrant rainbow across my canvas. It was beautiful but unsettling, and I needed a second to regain my equilibrium.

Grabbing clothes, I ducked into the bathroom to brush my teeth and change. I quickly donned my favorite deep green cargo pants and a gray tank. It would do for taking care of the horses and hauling my painting to The Collective. I pulled on thick socks, even though it was already hot out. I’d need them when I slid my feet into boots.

As I straightened, I stared at the door, the hint of voices filtering through it. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t hide in here forever. My fingers curled around the knob, and I twisted. The voices got louder as I made my way down the hall.

When I stepped into the kitchen, Ellie looked up, a smile still on her face. “I miss the death metal unicorn, but I do love those pants.”

I laughed, surveying the space. “I’d offer you food, but I don’t really have that around here. Your brother tried to force some sort of health drink on me, but you don’t look like someone who favors poison either.”

Ellie laughed, that same full-of-life sound filling the air as she turned to Linc. “I like her.”

His lips twitched. “Glad you approve.”

“You should be. I have impeccable taste,” Ellie said, flicking her light brown hair over her shoulder.

“You sometimes have impeccable taste,” Linc challenged.

Ellie’s jaw dropped in mock affront. “Excuse me? Who helped design your company logo? And gave you feedback on the Sparks mascot reboot?”

Linc’s eyes danced in amusement. “But who also used to dip grapes in ketchup and call it the height of cuisine?”

“I was five!” Ellie exclaimed, throwing her hands wide .

“My taste buds will never forget,” Linc muttered, but there was clear affection in his eyes.

That shifting and rearranging sensation took flight in my rib cage. I could see the image as clear as day as if it were actually playing out in front of me. A teenage Linc dipping grapes in ketchup just to please his little sister. There was something about a boy who would do that. And he’d grown into a man who was the same at his core. Making sure I was fed. Staying with me on the off chance someone wanted to stir up trouble.

Lincoln Pierce was a good man. The best kind. And it scared the hell out of me.

“While you two argue the culinary worthiness of grapes and ketchup, I’m going to go let my horses out and head into town.”

Ellie whirled in my direction, her pale green eyes lighting. “You have horses?”

Her excitement was almost childlike. Even though she was probably a year or two older than me, I felt the bizarre urge to look out for her. “I have two. If you stick around, I’ll take you for a ride.”

Ellie let out a little squeal. “That would be amazing.”

I glanced at Linc, who was frowning. “What? No horses?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure you should go into town alone. We can come with you.”

I tried not to let his concern wrap around me like a warm hug, but it did anyway. Which was exactly why I shouldn’t let him go with me. “I’ll be fine. Just a quick trip there and back. Trace already made me turn on that damn find-my-device setting on my phone, so he’ll know my whereabouts at all times.”

“Arden—”

“I’m good, Cowboy. A stupid prank, that’s all.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“No bogeyman sends you notes before they strike. And I’ll be careful. Promise.”

As Linc stared at me, I knew he didn’t believe me. And the worry in his hazel eyes put me on edge. Not because it meant he cared, but because I knew what it was like to lose that care after having it. Knew what it was like to have your world ripped out from under you with no warning. And I never wanted to feel that again.

Wanda bumped along the gravel road as I headed into town. My windows were rolled down, letting the summer breeze blow through the cab. Brutus was in heaven, his head out the window, ears flopping in the wind. I reached over and gave his hind end a scratch, making his tail thump.

This was it. All I needed. The fresh air. My dog. My truck. My work.

I didn’t need dark, avenging angels who woke things in me that were terrifying beyond measure. Even if every cell of my being came alive at his touch. Even if he was the only person who’d made me feel completely safe for the first time in over a decade.

Just thinking about how Linc made me feel had annoyance coursing through me. How dare he waltz into my life and flip it on its head? How dare he make me realize everything I’d been missing with my walls sky-high?

My phone rang just as I turned onto Cascade Avenue. As I pulled to a stop at the first light in town, I plucked it from the cupholder. At the sight of the name on the screen, I hit accept, putting it on speaker and dropping it back into the holder.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” I asked.

Trace grunted in response. “Want me to tell Mom you’re sassing me when I’m just trying to look out for you?”

I chuckled. “Sassing? I’m not your six-year-old, remember?”

“Sure are acting like her,” he shot back.

I stuck out my tongue at the phone, even though he couldn’t see me.

“You’re either flipping me off or sticking out your tongue.”

My spine snapped straight as the light changed. “Did you put cameras in my truck or something?”

Trace laughed, and it was damn good to hear the sound coming from my eldest brother. He didn’t do it much anymore. I wasn’t sure if it was the weight of his divorce, managing Keely on his own when he had her, or maybe simply the heaviness that came with his career path. He’d always been more serious than the rest of us, a rule follower. But this was more.

“If you were Keely, I’d have you doing extra chores for that sass,” Trace said, humor lacing his words.

I guided my truck down the main road through town, taking in the flower beds at each corner with their brightly colored blooms, and the tourists already moseying down the streets to peek in shops. “I already mucked out stalls this morning. Can we call it good?”

“I guess.” Trace paused for a moment, and I braced. “Got a call late last night. Mrs. Henderson said some kids were playing ding-dong ditch in those creepy Scream masks. Checked this morning, and we had a few other reports of the same.”

I pumped a fist in the air. “Told you. Stupid kids playing pranks.”

“There were no other reports of notes.”

“Trace,” I said, gentling my tone. “If I hadn’t been through what I have, I wouldn’t have reported the note either.”

He sighed. “I guess you have a point there. Still, I talked to the agent at the FBI who has your case.” I sucked in a breath, holding on and not letting go. “She said there has been no movement as far as she can tell. Grady Ellison gets exactly one visitor in prison. His mother. She comes once a month. He doesn’t use the phone or email. There’s no way he was behind this.”

Just hearing the name Grady Ellison sent a shiver down my spine. The man who had so carelessly killed my mother, father, and countless others. All for a little extra cash.

“That just fits with the prank line of thinking,” I said, flipping on my blinker to make the turn toward the gallery. I swallowed hard, steeling myself. “They say anything else?”

“They still have no idea who paid him and why. No idea exactly what cases your father threw beyond the few they were able to pin down early on. If they had a wider picture, they might be able to track it back to whoever was behind the hits. ”

I gnashed my back teeth together. “If they haven’t found out any new information, it doesn’t make any sense that whoever was pulling the strings would suddenly come after me all these years later. It’s not like I remember anything beyond what I already told them.”

And that ground at me. I’d played the voice over and over in my head, trying to place it. But nothing ever fit. If I had heard it before, it hadn’t stuck. The police had found the shoes, a high-priced loafer with waiting lists and thousand-dollar price tags, but they’d never been able to match the recipients of the shoes in the Boston area with any persons of interest.

Trace sighed across the line. “Okay, okay. I’ll let up.”

“Thank you.”

“I still want you being cautious in case we have this wrong. I’ve got Cope’s place on the deputies’ drive-by route, and I want you to keep that location app and ringer on .”

I made a grumbling noise in response.

“Arden,” Trace warned. “Do not make me get Nora and Lolli involved.”

“Cruel and unusual punishment,” I shot back.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Yeah, yeah. I promise.”

“Thank you. Where are you now? I hear your truck.”

“Detective on the case,” I muttered. “I’m dropping off a painting at The Collective, then heading back home. Think I’m feeling a sculpture calling my name today.”

“All right. Just don’t forget about dinner tonight. And I invited Linc.”

I cursed. I’d forgotten all about Lolli’s request for a command performance. Her visit felt like it’d happened a lifetime ago. And having Linc there would make it that much harder. He saw too much. “I’ll be there.”

“Good,” Trace said, then paused. “We just care about you. You know that, right?”

My throat constricted, a burning sensation igniting there. “I know. Sorry I don’t always make it easy. ”

“Screw that noise,” Trace clipped. “You make caring about you as easy as breathing. Even when you’re being prickly.”

My mouth curved the barest amount as I turned into the alley behind The Collective. Trace was being too easy on me, too kind. Which meant I hated myself more for not being able to give any of them the words and tell them I loved them. It was like if I did, I would know just how much pain I’d be in if I lost any of them.

“You’re the best brother,” I whispered. It wasn’t enough, but it was all I could give him for now.

“I’m gonna tell Cope that.”

I barked out a laugh. “You trying to get me kicked out of my house?”

“I’d never,” Trace said, humor lacing his words. “I gotta get back to work, but call or text if you need anything.”

“Will do,” I said. “Be safe out there.”

“Always am.” And with that, Trace hung up.

I tried to shake off the conversation as I pulled into an empty spot near the back door of The Collective, but the conversation still clung to me. As I put the truck in park, my phone dinged twice. Lifting it from the cupholder, my lips twitched.

Your group name is now Arden’s Favorite & the Other Ones.

Trace

Arden finally admitted it today. I’m her favorite.

Kye

Someone check on A. Trace might be torturing her if she lied like this. We all know I’m her favorite.

Cope

The fuck you say? I’m the only one Arden allows to keep Brutus when she has to go somewhere without him.

Rhodes

You mean you’re the most convenient one since you’re a five-minute walk away?

Cope

Harsh, Rho Rho. That was uncalled for.

Shep

You can all stop now. I built her art studio, so I’m obviously the favorite.

Fallon

You’re all being ridiculous. I know exactly who Arden’s favorite is. It’s Lolli.

Kye

That’s not fair. Lolli’s probably bribing her with pot brownies.

I snorted out a laugh.

Me

I wouldn’t mind the brownies minus the pot. From everything I heard about Rho getting accidentally dosed in college, I’m steering clear.

Fallon

You mean this??

She sent a video we’d all seen countless times, but it never got old. Rhodes was wandering through Lolli’s flower garden, singing and talking to all the flowers.

Rhodes

You said you got rid of that!!! TRAITOR!

Fallon

Sorry. I lied. This is too golden not to keep forever.

Kye

Fal is tiny but fierce. And she has way too much blackmail material on all of us.

Fallon

And it would do you all good to remember that when I ask you to volunteer at our back-to-school event in a few weeks.

There were some texts of protest, but everyone mostly agreed. When your sister worked for Child Protective Services, how could you say no?

Shutting off my engine, I slid out of the cab and motioned for Brutus to follow. Since we were heading straight into the gallery, I didn’t bother with a leash and swore my pup looked up at me with gratitude.

The moment I slammed the door, a familiar head of dark hair poked out of the back door. Isaiah grinned as he stepped outside. “How’s the love of my life?”

I made a face. “Just fine, heartbreaker.”

He strode over to me, crouching to give Brutus some scratches. “I don’t know. I hear you’re the heartbreaker. Had Daddy Warbucks at your place this morning. ”

Isaiah waggled his eyebrows to accentuate the point, and my face flamed. “It’s not like that,” I muttered.

“Suuuure, it’s not.”

I flipped him off, and Isaiah just laughed.

He pushed to his feet, and I saw the clay smeared across his worn tee. “Heard you were bringing in a new piece. Need help?”

Gratitude swept through me, not at the offer of help, but because Isaiah was letting it go. He might like to needle me, but he also always had my back. “That would be great. It’s not fully dry yet, so we need to be careful.”

Isaiah gave me a two-finger salute and headed toward the back of my truck. I’d had a cover designed for the bed for situations just like this one. There were times I needed to transport pieces I couldn’t risk getting wet in snow or rain—or in this case, getting dirt or other debris on a still-tacky surface.

Isaiah started the dance we’d done countless times before, rolling back the cover and reaching into the bed. But he stopped just shy of the painting, glancing up at me. “Ardy. This is incredible.”

My face heated again. “Thanks. It’s, um?—”

“Different,” he finished for me.

I nodded. “Makes me twitchy.”

Isaiah grinned over at me. “If it makes you feel like you’re standing naked in front of a crowd, you know it’s good. Important.”

“Says the man who loves being a nude model.”

He barked out a laugh. “Fair enough. Come on. Let’s get her in to dry. People are going to freak over this baby.”

That had my stomach flipping. I hoped people would connect to it, but I also wasn’t sure I wanted to give the piece up. And that was a problem.

We navigated our way to the back door, careful not to run into any vehicles or other roadblocks on the way. When she saw us, Hannah hurried to the screen door. “I’ve got it.”

“Thanks,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure I didn’t run into anything.

We got the piece inside and onto an easel Denver had left out. I was sure he wanted to photograph it before he moved it into one of the studios to dry.

“Wow,” Hannah said, her voice going soft. “This is stunning.”

“Thanks, Hanny,” I said.

She sighed, running a hand through her tangled red waves. “I need to get moving on my piece. I’m behind.”

When I looked at Hannah this time, I really studied her. There were dark circles under her eyes, and paint dotted her fingers. “You doing okay?”

She sent me a half-hearted smile. “I’m struggling with this one.”

God, did I ever know that feeling. “You want me to take a peek? We could talk it out. I hit a wall with this one, too, but it finally all came together.”

“I can help, too,” Isaiah offered. “I know I’m a clay man, but art’s art, right?”

Hannah beamed at us as if we’d just offered her a bag of diamonds. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

The bell over the door jingled, and I glanced over to see Denver leading another man inside. It wasn’t the reporter from the other day. This man had slick written all over him. And money.

He wore shiny shoes that made zero sense in the mountains with black trousers that were perfectly pressed and creased. He’d tucked a crisp white shirt into them and finished the look with a watch rimmed in diamonds. Even his black hair was slick—gelled into artful waves.

The man’s gaze swept over us but then went to the painting, staying there. “Tell me this is her newest work.”

“It is,” Denver said, a grin on his face that looked like a cat who’d snagged a canary.

Brutus pressed against my side, a silent check-in and assurance that he had my back. My hand fell to his head, reassuring him.

“Arden, this is Quentin Arison. He wanted to get a look at our offerings before the auction,” Denver said, his grin still in place.

The man’s gaze cut to me with a sharpness that had me wanting to take a step back. Brutus let out a low growl, and I did nothing to stop it. Quentin’s dark brown gaze stayed locked on my face, showing no fear of my dog as he should have.

“Arden Waverly. Such a beautiful, young woman creates such dark work. Interesting.” He began walking toward me, his steps long and languid.

Brutus’s hackles rose, and he let out another warning growl, louder this time.

Quentin’s gaze flicked to my dog. “An interesting choice of companion, as well.”

“He’s protective,” I said, not lowering my gaze. We were surrounded by people, yet my fingers itched to palm the switchblade in my pocket.

Quentin arched a brow. “And if I reached out to take your hand?”

“He wouldn’t like it,” I gritted out.

“Fair enough.” Quentin’s focus shifted, studying the painting. “I like it. I’ll need it. The blood…it calls to me.”

A shiver ran over my skin as nausea settled in my stomach. I did not want my precious painting in this man’s hands. Especially when he missed the point of it altogether.

He turned back to me. “Let me take you to dinner. You can tell me about my piece.”

The fact that he spoke of my painting like it was already his had anger flickering to life in me. “I’ll pass.”

Annoyance and more than a little heat surged to life in Quentin’s eyes. “I am quite the collector. I think you’ll want to reconsider that.”

“Not worried about collectors,” I told him honestly. You either got my art, or you didn’t. I wouldn’t waste my breath trying to explain what I created to people who only wanted to judge it.

A muscle ticked in Quentin’s cheek. “I could open a lot of doors for you, Arden. You don’t want to lose that opportunity.”

I opened my mouth to tell the douchebag to get bent but didn’t get a chance because a new voice cut through the air. One that held a fury so cold it burned. One I recognized.

“I believe she said no .”

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