Page 91 of Theirs to Hunt (Girls Like Us #1)

Chapter ninety-on e

T he second I lock eyes with Brooks, something in both of us unclenches. Not all the way. Not completely. But enough to breathe.

He takes a step toward me. Controlled. Measured. Still too tightly wound to speak first.

Grayson turns as I approach, his phone lowered, those pale eyes sweeping over me like a scanner. Measuring. Calculating. Not unkind — just exact.

"She's going to be fine," I say, voice steady even though my scrubs still smell like disinfectant and adrenaline. "They just finished her scans."

Brooks closes his eyes for a beat.

"She's got a solid concussion," I continue, slipping into clinical gear. "Looks like she hit the side of her head, possibly the window or pillar during the impact. That's where the bleeding came from."

I glance at Brooks’s wrap ped knuckles and the dark smear still near his temple. I don’t ask. I don’t need to.

"She's awake. A little groggy. They’ve got her on fluids and something light for pain. No skull fracture. No brain bleed. Vitals are strong. She's asking for water and trying to sit up — which is a good sign… and a Reagan sign."

That pulls a short huff of breath from Brooks, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Grayson doesn’t move, but something in his posture shifts. Less rigid. More… ready.

"They’re prepping her to move to a private room now," I add, softening. "As soon as she’s settled, I’ll come back and bring you both."

I look between them. "I figured you’d want to see her together."

Grayson nods once, crisp and silent. Brooks presses his hands to his hips and nods too, slower.

"You did good," Brooks says quietly.

I don’t know if he’s talking to me or himself. Maybe both.

I squeeze his arm as I pass. "She’s tougher than you think."

And quieter, under my breath, "But she’s going to need you. Both of you."

Then I turn and head for the elevators, ready to walk my best friend through the fog of pain and into whatever the hell comes next.