Page 18 of Theirs to Hunt (Girls Like Us #1)

Chapter eighteen

I watch the security feed as Brooks walks out of the Treehouse,

Reagan’s eyes still locked on the door, trying to rewind time with her stare.

She’s unraveling.

But not enough.

Not yet.

She needs to feel safe again.

The worst is over.

She imagined it all.

That’s when they get careless.

When they stop hiding.

I pick up the phone and buzz my evening assistant.

I have seven, each covering a different shift, so I never have to wait.

“Draft a message,” I say.

“Mandatory all-department heads meeting. Tomorrow. Ten a.m. Sharp.”

A pause .

“Include Customer Service.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up.

Let her come back on my terms.

Let her sit across the table from me and wonder if her legs are shaking too loud.