Page 59 of Hide From Me (Chaotic Love #3)

Thirty

Moe

Caspian's House

I don’t want to do this, but fuck, I feel like I actually am losing my mind.

Every night, as I try to sleep, her voice echoes in my head. Every morning, I see her at the diner, where that tight little smile she gives me feels like she's holding herself together with glue and spite. It makes me feel as if I'm bleeding all over again.

I can’t keep pretending that I didn’t lose the biggest part of me.

No. I didn’t lose her.

We’re still together. She never said the words “We’re done” or “This is over,” and that means it’s not.

Technically, I'm still her boyfriend, even if she’s emotionally halfway across the goddamn planet.

And since that’s the case—if there’s even a thread left—I still have a responsibility to do right by her.

I growl under my breath, frustration simmering just below the surface as I dig into my pocket for the key. It’s awkwardly wedged between my knuckles since my shoulder is still in that stupid sling. I hate it. I hate how weak it makes me feel. How useless.

I didn’t fight Caspian on it this time, though. I didn’t snap at Laura either when she tied the sling in place earlier, her hands too gentle, her smile too fake—like she was covering guilt with professionalism. I’ve kind of forgiven her, but she doesn’t need to know that yet.

I jam the key into Caspian and Cordelia’s front door and let myself in as if I live here.

The place smells like bergamot and gun oil—a strangely comforting mix of lavender soap and weapon polish that says, “Yes, we might kill people, but we exfoliate afterward.” It hits me the moment I step over the threshold, a rush of familiarity that settles in my chest like a warm blanket over broken ribs.

I slowly trail up the stairs, my hand skimming over the family photos hung along the wall.

Caspian and Cordelia pose as if they’re straight out of a spy film.

Sam flashes his goofy sideways grin while Jasmine stands on her tiptoes with her hands behind her back, her expression a mix of rage and shock.

And then there's me, wedged somewhere in the middle, sitting in a silly green booth and looking at the bar where I know my sunshine is, even though she’s not in the picture, smiling as if I actually belong.

God, I miss that.

I miss her.

She was the reason I didn’t spiral this time. The reason I didn’t go dark when everything inside me screamed to crawl back into the pit. Because there's still a chance . Because I still have something to fight for.

So, yeah—I’ve done my part. Ever since I got cleared for light duty, I’ve shown up at Fae’s Diner every morning like clockwork. I order those chocolate chip pancakes like they’re some kind of love spell, saying the same stupid line every time: “Hi, I’m Moe.”

Sometimes she rolls her eyes. Sometimes she calls me names. Once, I swear I saw her look like she wanted to cry, but she hasn’t told me to stop, so I haven’t.

Still, it’s driving me insane. The not knowing. The way she looks at me is like I’m someone she used to love but doesn’t trust anymore, and I can’t take it. I won’t .

So this is it—my last resort.

And if this doesn’t work... I don’t know what the hell I’ll do.

"Caspian!" Cordelia moans from behind their bedroom door, and I freeze on the last step .

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Really? This is what I’m walking into?

I hover there, hand poised over the knob, already regretting everything about tonight. I seriously have the worst possible fucking timing, but screw it—I’m committed.

I push the door open.

The first thing I see is Caspian—half-naked, tangled in sheets, a look of pure… I don't fucking know, and honestly, I don't want to put a name to whatever the hell that is on his face.

"Good girl," he mutters against Cordelia’s neck, just as his eyes catch mine.

“Well, hello there!” I purr, and he freezes mid-movement like I just caught him punching Santa Claus.

Cordelia goes still too, her expression morphing from blissed-out to horrified in a breath.

"For fuck's sake Moe!" Caspian yells, scrambling to sit up. He gets tangled worse and flails dramatically before thudding to the floor.

I laugh. I can’t help it. I think this is the best moment I've had in a while. I look over to the tv, tsking my tongue with a shake of my head.

“I knew you two watched my favorite show without me.”

Cordelia throws a pillow with deadly aim. I duck, grinning.

“Jesus Christ, Moe!” she groans, dragging the blanket up over her chest.

“You weren’t even supposed to have a key anymore!” Caspian snarls from the floor.

“Emergency override,” I chirp. “You revoked it after I ate all Cordelia's pickles, but I may have made a duplicate. Sue me.”

Another pillow is thrown, successfully hitting me in the face this time. Assholes . They know my reflexes are off since I haven't been able to get in any training time.

“Anyway. Get up. Get dressed. We’re going,” I pick up the pillow and gently place it on the nightstand, smoothing the wrinkles, refusing to budge a step .

Caspian glares as he climbs to his feet, dragging on a pair of sweats. “You better be dying. Again.”

“Tempting,” I say with a pointed smile, “but no. Not this time.”

Cordelia narrows her eyes, still clinging to the blanket despite the fact that this isn’t the first time—and definitely won’t be the last—that I’ll walk in on them. “Where are we going?”

“A little midnight adventure,” I reply, stepping into the hallway. “And before either of you says no, you owe me. You both do.”

“Moe…” Caspian’s tone dips into warning territory.

“This better not be some psychotic—”

“It’s for Raylen,” I cut Cordelia off.

Their expressions change the moment they hear her name, just as I expected. Cordelia's mouth falls open, her sharp comeback dying in an instant. Caspian’s jaw tightens, and I catch the flicker of worry in his eyes—a fear he doesn’t even try to conceal.

Good. That means they’re on my side already, even if they don’t realize it.

“I need you,” I say quietly, allowing the weight of my words to settle between us. No more jokes. No more grins. Just the raw truth. “I’m losing her. I feel it every day, and I don’t know how to stop it. So, this is me asking for help. You owe me that much.

Cordelia and Caspian exchange a glance, one of those silent conversations they’ve mastered, the kind that used to annoy the shit out of me. Now, I’m grateful for it because it means they’re already figuring out how to back me up.

Cordelia is the first to break the silence. “We’ll get dressed, but this better not end with us breaking into somewhere. Again.”

“Not breaking in; that’s your forte, not mine. But maybe trespassing,” I murmur, my grin returning despite the storm inside my chest.

I leave them to scramble for their clothes, my mind racing.

The sling is cutting into my neck, and my shoulder throbs in time with my heartbeat, but I barely notice.

The only thing I can focus on is the way Raylen has been looking at me lately.

It’s as if she wants to reach for me but doesn’t trust herself to do it.

It feels like she’s trying to decide whether I’m worth the risk.

I am. I have to be. And I’ll prove it.

“Fucking cock-block.” Caspian grumbles, and I grin.

Little does he realize he probably won’t be getting back to business tonight after we do what I need to do.

We meet Sam and Jasmine at the edge of the woods behind Raylen’s, spooky-ass house—the one she doesn’t talk about, the one where the walls still breathe like they remember everything she’s tried to forget, the one she refuses to move out of.

Caspian pulls up in the SUV, headlights slicing through the dark and lighting the tree line like a stage we’re all about to perform something terrible on.

The light bounces off branches and the faint glint of the chain-link fence beyond.

I swear the night feels thicker out here, like it knows what we’re about to do.

Jasmine climbs out first, rolling her neck, her hoodie rumpled like she’d been asleep before my call.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have Sam punch you for calling me out here,” Jasmine mutters, pulling her hair into a loose bun as she steps toward me.

“Eh, he wouldn’t. He said he’s saving his hit back for a time I really deserve it.” I shrug, flashing a grin that feels more like a bandage than an actual smile .

“Caspian said I only get one free hit.” Sam strolls past me, calm as ever, and smacks the back of my head with an open palm hard enough to make my teeth click. “I’mma make it worth it.”

“Caspian!” I shout dramatically, stumbling forward a step. “Sam hit me back! It counts!"

The petty part of me wants a written report filed immediately.

I round the back of the SUV, pop the trunk, and start tossing out shovels—one after the other.

Sam catches his midair, already frowning. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious.” I grin. “Get it… dead ?”

Cordelia glares and picks up her shovel like it’s a cursed artifact, holding it away from her body with two fingers as if it might bite. “We put bodies in the ground. We don’t dig them up.”

“True,” I admit with a nod, rolling my shoulder out before immediately regretting it when pain lances down my bad arm. I suck in a breath but keep going, voice tight. “But we also do what we have to to protect the people we love.”

I look at each of them, letting the silence stretch between us like barbed wire.

“You said it yourself, Sam—it’s a miracle she hasn’t been caught yet.

And I’m scared shitless that one slip, one patrol, one nosy neighbor, is all it’ll take.

Just because we wiped him from every system doesn’t mean some K-9 can’t dig up the past.”

Everyone stills.

Jasmine pales like she’s seeing ghosts already. “You’re joking.”