Page 57 of Hide From Me (Chaotic Love #3)

She shuts her eyes, head tilting forward, her chin trembling like the ground beneath her is no longer steady. My words hang in the air, heavy and hot and fragile.

“I believe you.” Her voice is barely audible now. She’s saying words, yes, but not the ones I was hoping to hear in return. “But love doesn’t fix this. Not right now.”

I can’t take it. I can’t stay still. Pain be damned, I reach out. My muscles scream in protest. The IV line strains against my movement. My side burns as if it's being ripped open again—but I do it anyway, just to get my hand a little closer to her.

“Please don’t walk away.”

Raylens fingers clench and unclench at her sides as she takes two steps toward the door. Her back is straight, but I can see the tension in every part of her body.

“I’m not walking away,” she says after a long pause. “I’m just... stepping back.”

It feels the same. It sounds the same. But I nod anyway. She reaches the door and stops, her hand hovering over the handle, hesitating.

Then, her voice drops to a soft and sacred tone. “If there’s anything left of us one day,” she whispers, “it’ll have to start over. From the beginning. No lies. No masks. No secrets.”

I nod again, even though it’s killing me. My lips twitch upward, unsteady.

“Hi. My name’s Moe…” I manage to say, trying to smile even as my throat feels tight.

And for just a second—one small, beautiful second—a ghost of a smile touches her lips. “Bye, monster,” she murmurs, and then the door clicks open.

She slips out and the second it closes behind her, I sink back into the pillows like I’ve been shot all over again. My body hurts. My soul hurts worse. It’s a silent ache that reaches into the marrow of my bones.

“For fucks sake.” I groan as the click of the door echoes again. I don’t even need to look.

Laura steps inside like she’s got every right to.

The change in the air gives her away. First, I notice the scent of antiseptic, then the familiar shuffle of soft-soled boots and the faint jingle of the silver bracelets she never removes.

I don't move; I just stare at the ceiling, jaw clenched, pretending I don't see her shadow at the edge of the bed.

“I just came to check your dressings,” Laura says carefully, as if I’m some kind of wild animal that might bite. “Five minutes, that’s all.”

“Funny,” I mutter, “That’s about how long it took you to betray me last time… and the time before that.”

She exhales through her nose, measured and steady. I recognize that sound: Laura processing, counting back from ten like she’s been trained to do with trauma patients. But I’m not a trauma patient. Not to her.

“You’ve stabilized well,” she says softly. “I wanted to—”

“No,” I bite out.

Her eyes cut to mine. “No, what?”

“No, you don’t get to be the one checking on me.” I don’t raise my voice—I don’t have to. The edge does the work.

“I’m your nurse, Moe. There are exactly three medics in this entire compound cleared for your case and I’m the only one not currently pulling someone’s spleen out of their ribcage, so you’re stuck with me.”

I finally turn my head, slow and sharp. “Fine. Then do your job. Patch me up and leave.”

Her lips twitch at the corners, not in amusement—more like restraint. “I figured you’d be mad. I just didn’t think you’d still be this mad.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I’m furious.”

She sighs. “It was over a year ago—”

My voice drops, low and clipped. “I’ve never told anyone about him, you know.”

She goes still, and the tension sharpens between us.

Bingo .

“I’ve kept my mouth shut for years about that guy you stitched up back in ‘22. The one you keep tabs on like some obsession. The one who has no idea you exist.” I continue, my voice as cold as ice.

“Moe—”

“No, you don’t get to show up and take on the hero persona every time I have a moment. You’ve got a secret shrine to a stranger who thanked you once and then vanished into smoke.”

Her mouth opens, then closes. I just need her hot headed ass to snap back. I need to feel the anger so the pain can become a little more bearable.

“You tracked his movements. You learned his aliases. You had his blood type memorized before the team even knew your middle name.”

Her eyes flash. “You don’t get to use that—”

“Don’t I?”

The silence stretches, too loud. My heart monitor jumps and I force myself to breathe through it .

Finally, Laura speaks, her voice steel-threaded. “You think I don’t hate myself for betraying you? You think I don’t carry that? But I will not apologize for saving your life, Moe. I won’t.”

I shut my eyes as she steps forward, adjusting the IV bag with clinical precision.

She didn’t save my life; she turned me into a boy trapped in a bubble for her own personal gain.

I refuse to believe otherwise at the moment.

If it weren't for her, Caspian wouldn’t have become so strict with the rules; he wouldn’t be so paranoid about my every move.

“Your body took a lot of trauma,” she says after a long moment, thankfully changing the fucking subject. “Shrapnel in your thigh, fractured scapula, torn muscle in your shoulder. You were on the edge of multi-organ failure before we stabilized you. So... field work? Not for a while.”

My jaw tenses. “I’ll heal.”

“You’ll scar,” she says bluntly. “And pushing it before you’re ready could cost you more than your pride. Could cost your ability to go back at all.”

I turn my head, facing away. “So, I’m grounded.”

“For now.” She hesitates at the edge of the bed.

“Raylen held onto you the entire chopper ride, you know. Even when she passed out. Even when we had to cut your shirt open and start emergency pressure... she wouldn’t let go of your hand.”

The door bursts open without warning, and both of us whip our heads around.

“If you two are done trauma bonding,” Sam announces, grinning like he owns the damn place, “we brought actual food instead of hospital mush.”

Caspian follows closely behind him, holding two takeout bags in one hand and an energy drink in the other.

He looks tired and disheveled, as though he hasn’t shaved in two days, yet he somehow manages to light up the entire room.

It’s sad that I peek around, expecting Jon to be following as well, but he left yesterday.

That’s okay, though; I’ll get used to it.

Besides, I have all the answers I need now.

I’ll just have to let our relationship develop naturally .

“You better bounce back quick,” Caspian says, dropping the bags on the tray table, “because if you’re not on your feet in time for my wedding, I swear I’ll wheel your arse down the aisle and make you slow dance with Sam.”

I grin and my lips part but Sam already knows what's coming so he cuts me off

“Fucking try it,”

“Oh, come on!” I groan. Laura disappeared at some point, thankfully so. Eventually, I’ll be able to let it all go, but just not right now.

“I swear if you’re better by then and you do it, I’ll make sure you're back in here,” Sam grumbles, unwrapping a sandwich, but there’s a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

I let out a breath—something jagged that tries to be a laugh but doesn’t quite make it. Still, it’s something and for now, that’s enough because the war isn’t over. My body’s still broken. My heart’s still cracked wide open, but I’m alive.

She came and I’ve still got people in my corner—fucked-up, loud, and intrusive as they are.

So let the healing and starting over begin.