Page 27 of Hide From Me (Chaotic Love #3)

If I weren’t trying to hold my shit together, I’d drop to my knees and kiss Sam’s boots for that. His comment buys me time and deflects Caspian’s suspicions, for now. It also reminds everyone that, technically, this is a double celebration.

Caspian and Sharkie’s surprise beachside sendoff into marriage.

Bachelor meets blackout.

Bachelorette meets breakdown.

It's a win-win.

Caspian lets out a heavy sigh as Cordelia leans against his side, resting her masked mouth against his shoulder.

“Who is she?” he asks again, softer this time.

“A close friend from another faction. I promised her a night without rules, just something normal. No work talk, remember?”

“Moe? ”

My shoulders tense at the sweet, innocent voice, and it only worsens as her gentle touch sears through my wrist.

“Sunshine!” I exclaim, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

“Cordelia, Caspian, Sam, Jasmine.” I rapidly fire off names as I point to each person, trying to get this exchange done as quickly as possible before someone says something that could ruin everything.

“I know I—”

I clear my throat, cutting Raylen off. “Where did Laura go?”

“To get drinks,” Raylen says, narrowing her eyes at me as she pinches my side. Her nails bite through my shirt. I deserve that. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t bring me here to ditch me.”

“You know Laura?” Cordelia perks up, clearly excited to finally find something in common.

Raylen nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ve known her for a while.”

That familiar tightness settles in my chest again. Why do I always surround myself with people who deserve good things in their lives, yet they can be taken away at any moment?

I open my mouth to protest, but Jasmine has already looped her arm through Raylen's, dragging her toward the fire while Sharkie belts out “She Loves the Rain” by Teddy Swims in the background.

I need a damn cigarette, and this time I don't care if Caspian sees me.

Maybe he can focus on the stick I pull from the pack in my pocket and slip between my lips instead of the demons threatening to jump out of my closet.

The lighter flares in my hand, and as the tip glows, I inhale like it’s oxygen.

To my surprise, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes my lighter, pulls out a cigar, and plops down in the sand.

“Don’t worry,” he mutters. “Sharkie won’t bite her.”

Sam covers his masked mouth to suppress a laugh. “Are we placing bets? ”

“Jasmine will interrogate her and memorize every detail if that's the case. I bet she pulls out a notepad in less than two minutes,” Caspian mutters. Sam's shoulders stiffen at the comment, but he finally lets out a genuine laugh. Can’t they see that I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown?

I can’t tear my eyes away as they all swing and sway together, with Raylen looking more tense than the other two.

“It’s not them I'm worried about.” My tone may be light, but my whole body buzzes with the urge to pull her away.

She always asks so many questions that it wouldn’t surprise me if she ended up being the one doing the interrogating.

I already have to adjust my behavior daily to match whatever personality Raylen likes that day.

Having her search for a side of me that is long gone would ruin everything.

I hiss as the ember burns my fingers, forcing me to look down at the cigarette I’ve unintentionally inhaled to the filter.

“She’s fitting in well.”

“Hm?” I tilt my head toward the guys, trying to figure out who said it. I guess I was so lost in watching her that I zoned out.

Caspian sighs and rubs his hand over his jaw. “Your friend.”

I roll my eyes at the way he emphasizes the word and look back at the girls. Jasmine laughs, falling back into the sand as Sharkie yells, “You’re going to get sand in your hair!”

Raylen leans toward Laura, whispering something I can’t hear. I want to know what she’s saying. I want to know everything she’s thinking.

“I can get her transferred here if that’s something you’d like,” Caspian continues.

Sam dismisses himself, saying, “Alright, time to get mine back to base.”

He knows. I know Sam does. If he didn’t, he’d pick me apart at the seams, trying to figure it out. He’d sit here hovering and demanding answers .

Jasmine squeals as he lifts her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing, her legs kicking in protest. Cordelia runs after them, demanding he put her down like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

“Is that what you want?” Caspian presses.

No. What I want is answers. What I want is—

“I want you to help me find my father,” I say without thinking. I know it's the wrong moment—he's trying to be nice, but why is he willing to do this when he won't help me with what I truly need?

“I’m—”

“Save it, Cas. I know. You’re trying to protect me.” Even though you’ll willingly send me into danger without a second thought, but hey, I guess you’re not ready for that conversation.

“You don’t understand. Do you think it’s been easy for me? Just two years ago, you barely saw what the world was like, and now you’re gone all the time, doing God knows what with these bloody factions! I give an inch, and you want to take a mile!”

Of course, he had to bring that up. Why did I hardly know what our wars were like? Hmm, I don’t know—let’s see. Because he never let me! My teeth grind together, and my fists clench as I clasp them over my knees.

“Caspian…” Sharkie mutters as she stumbles through the sand, rubbing her eye, but obviously, he’s not done with his lecture.

“I’m trying to protect you, damn it! Yet all you want to do is look for someone who doesn’t even know you exist!”

“Doesn’t know I exist?” I snap as he stands and hastily wipes the sand off his pants.

What is that supposed to mean? There’s some man out there who doesn’t even know he has a miniature version of himself causing chaos?

You’d think that would make me feel better, but somehow, this makes things worse.

“I’m right here, Moe. I’ve been right here the whole time! This—” Caspian rips his mask from his head and gestures around the beach. “This is your home! ”

God, I want to scoff. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

He’s not ‘right here’; he’s hovering a thousand feet in the air, watching from a distance, playing some sort of god, and acting like he gets to pick and choose what I do with my life and where I end up.

This isn’t my home; it’s just a cruel twist of fate where I wound up in the right place at the right time, giving no one a choice but to take me in.

He stares at me like he wants to say more, but all I want is for him to stop.

“Sorry,” I force out. I don’t mean it, but I need the noise to end before I start screaming.

“Damn it,” he breathes. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just—”

“You’re just stressed,” I cut in, standing up, but not meeting his eyes. Cordelia looks as if she just went from drunk to sober in a matter of minutes. It's as if a grenade is sitting between us and she's waiting to see who will kick it into the water.

But the pin’s already been pulled.