Hardin's Fear
HARDIN'S POV
I was just about to call her.
The phone was already in my hand, thumb hovering over her contact when a call came through. And it was from one of Ariana's guards. Roman.
I answered immediately.
"Sir," he said breathlessly, "Miss Miller just drove out of the mansion. She was upset. We tried to stop her, but she shoved past and sped off."
The phone almost slipped from my hand.
"What?"
"She wouldn’t listen. We tried, but—"
"Which way did she go?" I barked, already moving.
"We don’t know, sir. We're trying to track her. We split up and sent out two cars. We’ll update you the moment we find anything."
My chest constricted, blood rushing in my ears.
"Call me the second you get eyes on her. I mean it."
"Yes, sir."
I didn’t wait for another word.
I turned and bolted down the hallway, ignoring the burning in my legs, the heat in my throat, the way my pulse pounded like a war drum.
She was gone.
Ariana was out there.
Alone.
And someone tried to kill her this morning.
Panic grabbed me by the throat.
As I reached the front doors, they flew open and my mother stepped in.
She stopped short when she saw me—wild-eyed, breathless, looking like hell.
"Hardin? What is it? What happened?"
"I have to go," I said sharply, barely slowing my pace.
"Wait—where are you going in such a hurry? Hardin—talk to me."
I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t.
"I’ll be back," I said over my shoulder as I flew down the steps.
She called after me again, but I was already gone.
The moment I hit the garage, I reached for the keys to the McLaren.
Fastest car I had.
I slammed the door shut, jammed the key into the ignition, and roared out of the estate like the devil himself was on my heels.
Because he was.
And her name was fear.
Goddamn it, Ariana.
What happened?
What pushed you to this point?
Where the hell did you go?
The tires screeched as I took the bend at the estate gates, weaving between guards scrambling to make way. Darkness covered the clouds, casting long shadows across the road.
I pressed harder on the gas.
The car surged forward.
Come on, come on, come on.
I needed to find her.
She wasn’t thinking straight. If she was driving like she had nothing to lose—
No. I wouldn’t let my mind go there.
Not Ariana.
Not my girl.
My phone vibrated in the console. I snatched it up with one hand, keeping the other tight on the wheel.
"Talk to me," I snapped.
"We still haven’t located her exact route, sir, but there’s a camera on the highway that caught her vehicle heading north."
"North to where?"
"Unknown. But one of our team spotted skid marks by the Old Pine exit. They followed the trail and believe she may have turned off the main road."
My heart thundered.
The bridge.
"She wouldn’t go to the bridge," I muttered to myself.
Would she?
She had once told me about that place. Said it reminded her of her childhood. Said it felt like home.
But that was before everything went to hell.
Before her world got ripped to pieces. Before her father's death.
Another vibration. Another call.
I nearly dropped the phone as I snatched it up again.
"Yes?"
"We think we found her. One of our men saw her car parked near the bridge. The one that overlooks the river."
My stomach dropped.
"Is she still there? Is she in the car?" My voice was frantic.
No answer.
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