Page 79 of Hide From Me

He stares at me as if he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he nods once, tight and reluctant.

“This mission... It’s not just a job,” he says quietly. “It’s my way of giving you what you’ve always wanted: answers. I’ve been trying to keep my side of the deal. I know we agreed on after my wedding, but this was the best opening–”

“Cas…” I can’t listen anymore, not when I truly feel like a monster now. I asked him for this. This whole time, he’s been fighting to give me what I want, even though it was tearing him apart. And yet I’m still doing things that will destroy him.

A shaky breath escapes me. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. I am, too. We’ll get through it. We always do.” He reaches out, ruffles my hair like we’re kids again, then playfully smacks the back of my head for good measure.

“Asshole,” I mutter.

“You and that damn mouth,” he laughs.

“I wonder where I get it from,” I tease.

He nods, and we both look toward the hill. Raylen isn’t here yet, thankfully. I wouldn’t know how to handle that situation after the bombshell that was just dropped, and it would probably ruin this fragile connection we’ve created.

“Promise me I won't lose you too,” Caspian mutters. The words are almost too soft to hear, but they hit harder than they should. He doesn't let me even form the words before he turns away and heads towards his car. Cordelia's head snaps towards the sun visor as if she weren't just being the world's biggest eavesdropper.

“Promise me I won't lose you all,” I whisper, wishing I could have said it to Caspian’s face, but instead, I’m saying it into the void as his car speeds over the gravel and onto the road back to base.

By the time Raylen steps onto the runway, the others have already left. It’s just the two of us, along with the silence we’ve been pretending not to hear for weeks.

Raylen climbs the steps of the jet as if she’s already regretting her decision, gripping the railing with white-knuckled precision. Her hair is wind-tossed, and her jaw is tight, but she’s here. That’s what matters.

“I feel like I’m about to hurl,” she mutters the moment her boots hit the carpeted floor of the cabin.

“Romantic,” I reply with a grin, shutting the door behind her.

“It’s the height thing,” she huffs, eyeing the leather seats as if they might attack her. “And the fact that I’m willingly getting into a tin can you can’t escape from while flying 500 miles per hour in thesky.”

I lean against the closed door, watching her spin in a slow circle as she takes it all in: the floor-length windows, the cushy seats, the mini bar, and the private bedroom tucked behind the divider.

She’s trying to play it cool, but her eyes keep darting up to the ceiling and then back down, as if she can’t quite believe this is real.

“You ever been on a private jet before?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

She shoots me a glare. “Do I look like the kind of girl who jets off to Paris for brunch?”

“You don't look like it,” I smirk, stepping closer. “But after seeing what your childhood was like, I'd say it's a possibility.”

Raylen rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, she flops into one of the chairs and fiddles with the control panel on the armrest, accidentally reclining herself until she lets out a sharp yelp.

“Jesus,” she mutters. “This thing hasmodes.”

“Only the best,” I purr as I take the seat across from her, lounging as if I own the place— which, technically, I do… for now.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” she mumbles, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just imagining all the things I’m going to do to you at 30,000 feet,” I reply, loving the way her hips shift in the seat.

She tries not to react, but her legs press together involuntarily. Bingo.

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and let the silence linger for a moment before breaking it with a soft, “Just so you know, I’m going to be kind of busy while we’re there.”

Her brows lift in curiosity, but I give her nothing more.

“Busy with what?”