Page 39 of Hunted By Them

Margaret sat there like a sentry, arms crossed, eyes cold. She clucked at me.

“Well, look who decided to show up.” Her voice carried enough that every head within earshot swiveled in our direction. “Did you think ignoring me was a strategy? Do you even care about the team, Sage? Because from where I’m sitting, it seems like you only care about yourself.”

“Look who’s talking,” I mumbled, under my breath. “I’ll go eat in the kitchen.”

I turned around and started to walk away.

“Don’t you turn your back on me,” Margaret snapped, heels clicking after me. “You disappear, you embarrass me, you can’t even answer your phone, and then you come strolling in like…like⁠—”

“Like what?” I cut her off, spinning around to face her. My voice came out louder than I expected, raw, and with enough force to silence the rest of the floor. I saw everyone’s heads slowly peek up over the top of their walls like a bunch of gophers.

Margaret’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I snapped, heat rushing through me. “You want to keep going? Fine. You want to scream at me in front of the entire office? Let’s do it. Because I’m done pretending you’re anything other than a bully with a fancy desk. You don’t even know how to use a stapler, let alone do your job properly. The only thing you happen to do well is scream at everyone and keep them scared so they don’t question what the hell you actually do, other than nothing.”

Gasps rippled across the office.

Margaret’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “How dare you⁠—”

“How dare I what?” I stepped closer, shoulders squared. “How dare I tell the truth? No. How dare you treat every single person here like garbage just because you think it makes you look powerful. Newsflash, Margaret, it doesn’t. It makes you look pathetic. Not one person in here respects you, and if you were fired, they would all dance down the hall.”

“Do you realize what you’re saying?”

“Yes, because unlike you, I have a functioning brain, not just a loud mouth.”

“You! You can’t speak to me like this. You’ll never get another marketing job in this city if I pick up the phone, and⁠—”

“Good,” I yelled, and her mouth snapped closed. “Then I won’t waste another second working for another jerk like you.”

Stomping past her and into my cubicle, I grabbed the one thing worth keeping…my fern. It was limp but alive, stubborn in its survival just like me. I tucked the items under my arm, swept up my bag, and turned for the elevator.

“You’re making a mistake!” Margaret shrieked. “You’ll regret this!”

The words and her clicking shoes chased me, brittle and hollow. She reminded me of a yappy dog.

Pushing the button for the elevator, I wheeled on her once more and smiled.

“No, you will, now that you can no longer use my hard work for your boy toy Todd. Or claim my ideas as your own to keep the bosses thinking you do something around here. I’m done being your doormat, and you’re the one who’ll regret it. You know it.” I looked past her to everyone still staring. “And they know it. They’re now wondering how long it will be until your boss figures out you’re useless. I’m sure they are already taking bets.”

Margaret looked over her shoulder at the eighty or so people watching, just as the elevator arrived and the doors slid open. I stepped inside, chest heaving, eyes stinging with the release of what I’d been holding in for so long. I held the button for the doors to close, to make sure she didn’t chase me into the six-by-four box.

And just like that, another weight fell off me.

The tightness that had coiled around my ribs since I first came back, since I first tried to shove myself back into this old skin, loosened. I pressed my forehead to the cool steel wall and laughed. It came out shaky, but real.

When the doors opened again, the lobby spread out before me, but it looked like a million possibilities rather than the death trap it had been before. The morning crowd bustled, oblivious to the drama that had just unfolded a few floors up. And the best part, Connor was nowhere in sight.

Thank God.

I walked out with my fern, my burrito, and no job. But…I felt lighter than I had in years.

SAGE

Yellowstone pulled at me like a magnetic force.

I told myself I was just driving around to enjoy the lovely day and get some fresh air. Just getting out of the city. But I knew better. My car ate up the miles, and every exit I passed tightened the coil in my chest until there it was again…the endless stretch of forest. The entrance to the park was shadowed by tall evergreens and others that had already started to change color. It felt alive, perfect, and as dangerous as any predator.

I pulled into the same lot where I’d first disappeared. It was the same gravel parking lot, same weathered signs, but there were no tents or emergency vehicles. There was a smattering of cars lined up, and other people who had wanted to take in the lovely fall day by going for a hike. I hadn’t brought my pack, boots, or water.