Page 6 of Hide From Me (Chaotic Love #3)

Three

Moe

Seaborn Base

Hey there, sunshine.

I don’t care if it makes me seem desperate or unhinged—I’ve been pacing my quarters for over an hour, waiting for her to message me. She’s lucky she texted when she did. Another five minutes and I’d have smashed my phone or shown up at her job—or worse, tracked her down.

Of course, I don’t want casual . But if that’s the word she needs right now, fine. I’ll take it. I’ll be patient. I’ll give her space— to fall in love with me.

Yeah, that sounds cocky. I don’t care. It’s inevitable.

I drag a hand through my hair, glance at my phone again—still nothing—and groan as my door creaks open.

“You busy?”

Still nothing.

I ignore Sam as I stride to my desk and pull out my chair. My fingers fly across the keyboard, bringing up Raylen’s tracker on my monitors. A red dot blinks on screen. Good—she’s driving. I wouldn’t want her texting anyway.

She suddenly stops. My stomach knots, but I recognize the location—just open fields and half-dead sidewalks. Sketchy. Is her car broken down?

“What’s got your arse so flustered?” Sam steps inside without closing the door. Uninvited. Again.

“Uh, well—” I clear my throat as I transfer her location data to a SIM card. I need to monitor her from my phone too. This isn’t about control—it’s safety. She's alone. She’s vulnerable.

That’s all this is.

Right?

I pause, hand tight in my hair. God, am I losing it?

“Moe,” Sam warns. I know he hates it when I start stumbling over my words, but I can’t seem to focus on him right now.

“What do you need?” I huff. She still hasn’t moved an inch. My phone pings, so I quickly pull it out.

You left me your number.

My whole body relaxes. I close the files and spin in my chair, grinning.

I did. You said you wanted casual, right?

“Why are you smiling?” Sam asks. I instantly wipe the expression off my face, glancing at him over the edge of my phone. Why is he here? I’m off-duty. He has no reason to be interrupting.

“Well—” I say with more bite than intended, so I fake a laugh and toss in a casual tone. “Just a dumb cat video.”

He doesn’t buy it. “I came to prep you for your next mission.”

My smile dies.

He looks at me like he’s about to— oh, hell no!

I quickly stand up as he lunges toward my phone.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I shout. He just laughs—deep, amused, and rumbling–but his brown eyes have darkened.

Shit . He noticed.

“Did you…”

Snap? Yes. I snapped. What, do they all think I just shit out my anger and flush it away? I bottle it up, but the dooming liquid trickles over the top every once in a while. I tuck my phone into my back pocket and clench my fist around it.

“What are you doing, Moe?” The authority in his tone hits me hard. I’m not just talking to my brother's best friend, but addressing my lieutenant. I snap to attention, tucking my arms behind my back, jaw clenched. My phone buzzes again in my pocket. Not now.

“Just tracking a suspicious shipment.” The lie rolls too easily off my tongue. My phone vibrates again, and my jaw clenches at the thought of not being able to check it yet. What if she needs me?

Sam opens his mouth to speak and raises a finger in my direction, but is interrupted by Caspian’s voice.

“Did you get him prepped?”

Sam’s jaw tightens, and my heart races in my chest. Please, for the love of God, don’t rat me out now. It seems my troubled expression softens Sam’s demeanor as he mutters, “Not yet,” through gritted teeth.

“It’s fine. You have a month, anyway.” Caspian’s voice trails off, leaving me confused. What does that even mean? At most, I get prepped for a week.

“Wait!” I try to step around Sam, but he blocks my path. I growl in frustration as he laughs, so I push him aside.

“Cas!” I yell as I exit my room, and he glances back at me with an annoyed expression that makes me hesitate. What have I done now?

“Look, I—”

He sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m just stressed. ”

I nod, relaxing a little. He gets like this. I once read that people lash out at those they trust most because it’s their safest space. Maybe I’m that for him, like he is for me.

“So, this mission?” I ask, but my phone vibrates again, causing me to freeze as I pull it out. My heart drops into my stomach as three short messages stare back at me.

“Yeah, I know it's far out, but I need you to be prepared, not only physically but mentally. Technically, we never know what will arise where you’re going, and I don’t know how you’ll handle—" Caspian's words trail off, but I can’t force myself to focus on him when I can hardly catch my breath.

“Moe?”

I swear this isn’t a pickup line, but can you help me?

I broke down.

Noted. Casual doesn’t mean helping.

I shake my head as I reread each message until the punctuation is engraved in my mind.

I wasn't there for her.

I messed up again.

I can't do anything right.

I'm spiraling into a hole so deep and dark that I don't think my nails are long enough to claw my way out.

It feels like my heart is mirroring my mother's monitor flatlining.

I couldn't help her. Red blurs my vision like the blood-stained Caspian who walked in to tell me our father was gone.

I couldn't save him . My chest constricts like my hand around the pistol when I aimed it at the man who raised me when our parents were gone.

I almost lost him. There's a churning in my stomach, similar to the feeling I got when gunshots rang out and bodies dropped— people I never even got the chance to know.

“Bruv?” Caspian’s hand lands on my shoulder.

I force a breath, laugh too loudly, and smile too wide. “Sorry, I was… distracted. What were you saying?”

Caspian narrows his eyes, but he lets it go. “We’ll talk later. You’ve got somewhere to be?”

If only he knew how badly I need to get there.

I shrug. “Um, it’s nothing.”

Caspian's brows furrow, but he returns my smile with a lopsided grin and glances at my phone. I quickly tuck it into my pocket and tilt my head curiously as I realize just how late it is and that he’s still here instead of at home with his fiancée.

“You're here late?” I ask.

“Um—”

For once, he seems more like a stuttering mess than I do.

“Your mission requires some of my attention, so I'm trying to manage my time during the hours Cordelia has scheduled for wedding planning with Jasmine.”

My chest gets this odd warm feeling, and I give him a genuine smile despite my internal conflict.

“Do you need a lesson?” I nudge his shoulder, referring to a sparring session like we used to have so often.

Our father would take us to the mats, and we’d wrestle while he asked us questions.

If we got them wrong, he’d catch us off guard with a playful jab; if we got them right, we got to return one.

He laughs, ruffling my hair. I flinch. The gesture feels more like that of a mentor to a soldier than a brother-to-brother one. “Not tonight. Go break another recruit’s heart.”

I punch his arm playfully and bolt, phone already back in hand.

I'm sorry, I was working. Where are you?

Seeing that she’s still in the same spot, I rush out of the base to my car. I might seem crazy if I suddenly show up where she is, but at this point, I don’t care.

She's typing.

Then not.

Typing again.

Don’t worry about it.

I exhale through my nose, knuckles tightening on the wheel.

Oh, she’s mad.

But she’s still replying. That means I haven’t lost her. Not yet.

One more chance, sunshine.

I hit send while turning down the side road. Rain streaks across the windshield like cracks. The road’s half-lit, mostly empty, and too damn quiet.

Or what?

I don’t reply. Not yet. I’ll show her exactly what.

My eyes scan the roadside—then I spot her car, parked half off the shoulder, hazard lights blinking weakly. A figure leans under the hood. Tall. Male.

My pulse spikes as I kill my headlights.

I coast to a stop a few yards behind them, engine humming low. I don’t get out right away. I need a second. If I don’t breathe, I’ll do something reckless. More reckless than this already is..

The guy steps back from the hood, wiping his hands on his jeans. He says something to Raylen, and her shoulders lift in a shrug. She’s soaked. Cold. Acting calm, but I know her—she’s masking it.

My grip on the wheel tightens until it creaks beneath my hands. I pick up my phone and hit call. One ring, two... I swear to God, if she doesn't answer, I might just admit myself to an insane asylum.

Three rings, and then I hear it—her soft breathing filters through the line.

“Don’t hang up,” I say, my voice low and sharp. She doesn’t respond right away.

“Tell me where you are. I know I’m late, sunshine, but I’m on my way.” I’m trying my hardest to give her a chance, silently begging her not to make the wrong choice so I don’t have to reveal just how bloody insane she drives me.

Suddenly, a guy’s voice comes through the line, muffled. “I think it’s just your battery. I told you last week to—”

I see red. There’s no hiding it. It’s easier to mask my irritation when I’m observing from a distance, but hearing it, too...

“Who’s that?” My voice is quieter now, deadly calm. That’s worse.

“Someone who actually showed up,” she replies.

Of course she’s pissed. She thinks I left her hanging, but damn it, I’m here now. I’m trying.

“This isn’t a game, lass,” I growl. “But if you want to play, we can. ”

“Don’t call me lass,” she snaps back, but there’s a slight tremble in her voice—confusion, not just anger.

“You wanted casual. You wanted rules. Fine.” I pause. “But if you bring strangers into the game, I choose how it ends. ”

“What are you—” I grin as her head turns and her mouth snaps shut when her eyes land on my car.

I hang up. I’ve already given away my position, and there’s no fighting it back now.

Pushing the door open, I step into the drizzle, boots hitting wet gravel with a deliberate crunch.

The man—her mechanic or whatever the hell he is —straightens and turns.

The second he sees me, his eyes narrow, recognition flashing across his face.

I know him.

He works at the diner. The one who watches her too closely when she isn’t looking. The one who talks too much and laughs too loud just to keep her attention.

“Ray?” he asks, glancing between us. “Someone’s here.”

She freezes when she sees me moving towards them. Her phone still in her hand, knuckles white.

“I’ve got it from here,” I say calmly.

The guy hesitates. Doesn’t move.

Raylen turns her head toward him.

“Go, Jack. Moe came to help me.”

“Yeah, Jack.” I drawl his name to remind myself to look him up later. “I can help her.”

“Right,” Jack replies quickly. How rude. I was being cordial; he could've at least shaken my hand. I would have only punched him in the nose.

I can’t help but track how many steps he takes as he rushes past—twenty-four steps.

That means it’ll take less than thirty seconds to reach her if I walk at a normal pace and fifteen seconds if I speed-walk.

My head turns in her direction, and she finally lowers her phone.

A light drizzle starts to fall from the sky, making her hair stick to her head.

How can something so dark be so fucking beautiful?

I take two steps toward her, my coat clinging to my frame, rain dripping from my hair.

“How did you find me?” She asks, and I step forward.

“I got lucky. There are only two directions from the diner. I guess I chose the right one,” I say with a shrug, taking another four steps closer. I prefer an even number of steps, but I also need to close the distance. Thankfully, she doesn’t make a move. She will, though.

“You think I’m playing games?” I cock my head to the side.

“You didn’t reply. I didn’t think it was that serious of a statement.” She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest with an eye roll.

“I was working,” I reiterate, firmer this time, letting some of my agitation slip through. I'm telling the truth for once, and she can’t seem to wrap her pretty mind around the fact.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, baby. I’m not mad, but I do want to play,” I purr through a lopsided grin.

“Don’t call me—What do you mean?” Her expression falls, and the panic returns as I take another step.

Her stare burns through me as I open her car door, allowing her to bask in the little bit of light while I reach in and wrap my hand around the keys.

“I told you I’d play,” I murmur, twisting them from the ignition. “And I think I have the perfect game for us.”

I tuck the keys into my pocket and shut the car door, waiting patiently for the automatic system to activate.

“You hide, sunshine…”

The air thickens, and I grin as the headlights finally fade, leaving us enveloped in darkness.

“…and I find you.”