Page 18 of Theirs to Hunt
I step to the counter, pick up the pizza. The bartender calls out the name I gave.
“Order for Reign.”
I hear her choke on her drink behind me. I can feel her squirm in her seat, and I can’t wait for the day that’s my face she is sitting on.
She heard it wrong. Rain, soft and safe. Let her hold on to the fantasy a little longer. The truth will come soon enough.
I don’t glance back as I walk out. I could. I want to. But I’ve already seen what I needed to see: her face when she realized it was me, the way her thighs pressed together under the table, the way her eyes stayed locked on me, prey too stunned to run.
She’ll go home tonight thinking it was a coincidence. That I didn’t see her. Maybe she’s imagining things.
She’s not. I saw everything.
I slide into the driver’s seat and set the pizza box on the passenger side. My phone’s already in my hand before the engine even turns over. I pull up Dad in my contacts.
She was at the Treehouse. With the friend.
She saw me. Not clearly. She thinks my name is “Rain.”
A beat. Then the phone buzzes.
Let her keep thinking that.
I know you never use your old call sign anymore, but since she heard your name, it’s necessary.
She’s rattled. Shaking. She wanted it, though.
Of course she did.
And?
I know what he means. He’s asking if I touched her. Pushed too far. Screwed up the pacing.
No. Picked up the pizza. She did the rest.
A longer pause this time.
Good.
You’ll know when it’s time.
Don’t hunt the deer before it’s finished running.
I don’t answer. Because he’s right. But I’ve already got the taste of her in my mouth.
And I’m not sure how long I’m willing to wait.
Chapter eighteen
Grayson, Monday 09:30 p.m.
Iwatch 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.
