Page 23 of Hide From Me

Caspian glares. “Watch your mouth.”

I grin. “You’re just mad because I’m better looking.”

“Hostage situations?” he asks suddenly with a grin.

Goddamn it.My smirk fades as he throws a punch, quick and aimed low.

“Didn’t get the question wrong,” I grunt. “Just didn’t have the answer.”

“You’d better figure it out. You’ve got a few more missions before this one.”

“Reassuring.”

He grins, then lunges.

We fall into a familiar rhythm—dodging, blocking, trading blows with the kind of bone-deep instinct that only comes from blood and years of practice. It feels good–grounding–every strike resets something in me. Every hit he lands wipes another thought from my mind.

“Looks like it’s going to be a long day,” Sam complains.

It will be, and honestly, I’m looking forward to it. I can’t wait to learn every little detail and memorize every new move they teach me.

It’s the only thing that makes me feel like I belonghereinstead of in a mental institution.

Six

Raylen

11-13-2025

My Spooky Scary House

“You’re such a cheater!” Laura practically shrieks as Jack throws down yet another Draw Four card. Her expression is a mix of fury and frustration, her large-framed glasses sliding down her nose while her curls bounce with every word.

It’s game night. Every Friday. Booze, banter, and bickering are our sacred ritual, as Jack would call it, since he claims my house is the creepiest place he’s ever seen.

“Itlookslikewitcheswouldlivehere—deepinthewoods,with nothingbutthedemonsunderthefloorboardstokeepthemcompany,”he would say. I actually like my house very much, thank you. Besides, I couldn’t leave it even if I wanted to. Too much is buried here.

Laura slams her cards onto the table, her delicate fingers trembling with outrage. She looks like a woodland sprite with flushed cheeks and soft freckles, but the rage radiating off her could make a grown man cry.

“You’re rigging this,” she growls, clutching her half-inch-thick deck of cards. “It’s like you’re hiding an entire warehouse under the table.”

Jack just smirks, leaning back like the smug bastard he is. “I’m just better at this game.”

I raise my glass to my lips to hide my laughter. Laura may look like she floats around humming lullabies, but she's a demon when it comes to games. It’s weirdly comforting. Predictable. I like predictability these days.

“Rough day at work?” I hum, drawing another card.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” she grumbles, organizing her disaster of a hand. Typical Laura. She's the only person I’ve ever known longer than Jack, who remains a complete mystery. She tells us everything and nothing at once—wrapped in a bow of sarcasm and smiles.

“I haven’t been laid in literal weeks. I think I’m collecting dust down there,” she deadpans.

Jack groans like she just punched him in the gut. “For the love of God, Laura—”

“Same,” I mutter before I can stop myself.

My throat tightens.

It’s not the sex I miss. It’s the feeling of being wanted in a way that didn’t make me want to crawl out of my skin. It’s Moe’s voice in my ear, the slow press of his fingers, the controlled chaos in his touch. The way he held me like he knew exactly how to destroy me—and didn’t.