Page 14 of Hunted by Them (Primal Desires #1)
SAGE
I’d stared at myself in the mirror for hours last night, my eyes focused on my chest where Buck had carved the word MINE . The lines were faint, but they were there. I wasn’t crazy.
Today, that word was completely hidden from view. Every detail of my outfit was chosen as if I were trying to pass a sobriety test. Trying to prove that I could stand upright in the chaos of my reality.
My dress pants were neatly pressed and didn’t look like they had seen a forest. I wore a clean blouse and a neutral cardigan as camouflage amongst the office trolls.
My hair was in a practical bun, and my makeup was subtle.
Not a ton, just enough to erase the bruised moons under my eyes and to make me look like someone who remembered how to exist under fluorescent lights.
The mirror said, ‘ functional adult ,’ while my brain said, ‘ liar .’
I grabbed my keys and purse, then slipped on my overly practical pumps.
I moved through my apartment on autopilot, and it was as if the rooms watched me like I was a stranger.
The mug on the counter still had the coffee ring from the last morning I belonged to this version of my life.
It looked offended that I’d left it behind, and it was the only thing I’d truly missed.
By the time I slid behind the wheel of my little sedan, the sun had cleared the top of the neighboring buildings and turned my dashboard into a solid reflection of light. I backed out of my spot and drove through the parking lot to the exit. Everything seemed…normal. But it wasn’t.
I merged into traffic and took the familiar route to the office with my fingers clenched around the steering wheel.
The city might be called a concrete jungle, but it was nothing like it.
I had never noticed just how loud everything was here, even inside the obedient lines.
Horns blared, people yelled, construction equipment rattled my car, and I played chicken at every light with the throngs of people wanting to cross. My chest stayed tight the whole way.
The lot at work was already half full when I pulled into my spot and put the car in park.
I didn’t move to get out. My phone stayed silent in the cup holder like a small gravestone.
I hadn’t turned it on since…since the storm, since the cabin, since waking in my car with sunlight I didn’t trust. I stared at it until my eyes ached.
“Rip off the bandage,” I muttered, and held down the button until it came to life.
The screen lit up, and the phone vibrated like it was having a seizure.
Notifications avalanched at me. Work, my mother, my friend who lived in Nashville, my landlord, and of course, the always annoying Connor.
Everything from missed calls to texts, voicemails, and news alerts.
My name was in headlines about a rescue I hadn’t experienced.
My mother’s name popped up in a stacked column of bubbles like a code for panic.
I swiped and scrolled and felt the bottom drop out. Thirty-six missed calls from Mom. Twelve from Connor. A scattering from co-workers who were either concerned or wanted gossip. Two from an unknown number, and one text from Beth, who wrote in all capitals.
Beth: YOU BETTER NOT BE DEAD!
I smirked at that one. I knew better than to give a dramatic person ammunition to be extra. They’ll take it every time.
I hit call on Mom before I could talk myself out of it.
She answered on the first ring, her voice a shriek and a sob all at once.
“Sage! Oh my God. Oh my God, baby, is it you? Why didn’t you call me last night? The news said you were found yesterday, and you didn’t reach out once.”
She broke down as she found a way to make my going missing for a week about her.
“Hi, Mom.”
My throat tightened with annoyance and yes…guilt. Even when I knew she was manipulating me, I still couldn’t help feeling guilty over whatever crime she accused me of during our calls.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I’ve just been so worried. Are you okay? Are you safe? Where are you?”
“I’m sitting in my car.” I stared up at the high-rise in front of me. I couldn’t even see the top from this spot.
“Oh…what in heaven’s name happened? Officers said they found your car but not you, and then they said maybe you’d gone off-trail, and then your cousin Teresa said she saw on TikTok that there was a bear attack not far from your location and…”
“I’m okay,” I said, cutting her off before she listed ten more horrible things that could’ve happened. “I…I don’t know what happened. Maybe I hit my head, or got extremely dehydrated, I’m not sure.”
“You said you’re in your car, where are you going?”
“I’m at work.”
“At work?” She made the word sound like a war crime.
“Sage Harlow, you went into the woods alone and disappeared for…do you even know how long? There was an entire search party out looking for you. Do you understand what could have happened? You could have been…kidnapped, or murdered, or sold to a creepy cult!”
A startled laugh escaped before I could stop it. Kidnapped…a creepy cult. If she only knew. Not kidnapped, chosen, hunted, and then…kept. My face heated with the wrong kind of memory, and I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead.
“This is not funny,” she scolded, hearing the edge of my laugh and misreading the meaning. “You scared me half to death. You scared everyone. Even poor Connor was calling me. I was about to fly out there and staple your picture to trees like wanted posters.”
Jesus, he called my mother in Florida. I needed to put a stop to this. His caring act was getting old.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated and meant it. “I wish I could tell you what happened.” Part of me wished that I could tell someone, but I knew it was a secret that I’d always keep to myself.
Silence crackled like static on the line for a few seconds. When she spoke again, her voice had softened around the edges.
“I’m just glad you’re alive, and you’re going straight to a doctor after work.”
“Mom…”
“No discussion. Concussion checks, fluids, and bloodwork. And a therapist. You know I love holistic wellness, but there are no essential oils for you going missing in a national park.”
“I’ll…make an appointment,” I lied, smoothly so that she’d drop it. This wasn’t my first rodeo.
“Good. And Sage…” Her tone shifted again, her maternal radar sweeping my soul. “You sound…far away.”
“I’m in a parking lot.”
“You know what I mean.”
I swallowed. The sun had turned the windshield into a bright, glaring wall, and beyond it, the office building glittered as if nothing bad had ever happened to anyone.
“I’m okay, just tired,” I finally admitted.
She huffed, skeptical. “You really should call Connor and let him know you’re alright. He’s been very worried.”
“I’m sure he has,” I said, closing my eyes and searching for the strength to finish this conversation. “How did he even get your number?”
“I gave it to him the last time I was up for a visit. Sage…he cares about you. I know he made a mistake, but we all make mistakes.”
That was Mom-speak for: He’s not so bad. You two are sweet together. Why can’t you date the nice boy who cheated on you, who has a fancy job, and doesn’t chase storms?
“He said he saw the news and wants to take you to dinner.”
“Noted.”
I wished there was some sophisticated way to get rid of Connor. Apparently, he didn’t understand the words Fuck and Off .
“Please text me when you’re home tonight…and Sage?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t go into the woods alone again,” she ordered, and I rolled my eyes.
Yes, the trees were the problem.
I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t say something sarcastic.
“I love you,” I said instead.
“I love you, too.”
We disconnected, and I sighed as I set the phone face down like it might bite me. Well, that was one done. Grabbing my purse, I got out and locked my car on the way to the front door of the building.
Inside, the air smelled like coffee, carpet cleaner, and the recycled despair of a corporate office. I swiped my badge, nodded to security, and stood with the small group waiting for the next elevator. It dinged as it arrived, and we all rushed in like a group of ants.
“Fourteenth floor,” I said to the guy looking at me for a number.
It was really the thirteenth floor, but because people were superstitious, they skipped it. Just because they labeled it differently didn’t make it so.
The doors slid open, and I stood there staring at the waiting area. I didn’t want to step off. But as the doors started to close, I stuck out my arm and stopped them.
Dammit.
My shoe crossed the threshold into what had once felt like a hive, but now it looked like an ant farm.
Every head turned in my direction. People glanced up or did double takes, then either rushed over with wide eyes and asked questions or pretended not to notice my entrance like decent human beings.
I kept my chin up and my answers short. None of these people were real friends.
Attending business lunches and the Christmas party hadn’t made us BFFs.
Margaret’s door opened like the snap of a trap.
“Sage,” she called, voice clipped enough to freeze me mid-stride. “My office. Now.”
Of course.
I had not missed this part. My boss was a Grade-A bitch. Normally, I avoided her wrath because…well, I was her hardest working employee, despite the snub. Apparently, being lost in the woods wasn’t going to get me out of whatever hell she was about to bring down.
Margaret’s secretary, Mary, gave me a sympathetic look. She always took the brunt of Margaret’s tantrums.
I followed her into a glass cube decorated with expensive minimalist elements and a framed certificate that said she had completed a leadership seminar in Scottsdale. She shut the door with a click that felt like she’d locked us inside.
“Do you know how unprofessional this is?” She began without preamble, planting her palms on her tidy desk. “The courtesy of notice is not an unreasonable expectation.”