Page 58 of Hide From Me

It’s been awkward. Stupid. Uncomfortable. Three fucking hours of silence, and I’m drowning in every second of it.

Cordelia finally got Caspian to sit down, but neither of us has moved, spoken—hell, we’ve barely breathed. The tension hangs between us like a loaded gun, cocked and ready, but I refuse to drag Raylen away just because I'm afraid the trigger might be pulled.

I’ve never seen her smile so much, and I’ve hardly ever heard her laugh. It’s as if she’s not on that edge she always teeters; for once, she’s not five steps ahead, waiting for someone to hurt her.

What kind of monster would I be if I ruined that?

I force a tight smile as she walks toward us, her gaze flickering between me and Caspian, as if she’s trying to figure out which of us pulled the pin. I stand up before she can get too close, intercepting her eyes before they land on him again. I know I don't have the right to be territorial, but I am, so I wrap my arms around her waist and spin us both in a wide, sweeping circle.

“What the hell are you doing?” she squeals, her voice half-laugh and half-protest.

“Dancing,” I grin, dragging her through the sand and away from him, away from all of it.

“Moe, are you—”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll see you later!” I call over my shoulder, cutting Caspian off before he can bait me into another fight. The fire crackles ahead of us, barelyglowing now that most people have cleared out. Sam’s truck is long gone, taking the music with it, but I still sway slightly, thinking that if I keep the motion going, maybe everything else will fade away too.

“What was that about?” Raylen asks softly.

Instead of answering, I press a kiss to her head, my jaw clenched too tight to express what I really want to say. I'm trying to feel normal—just for a second—but she doesn’t give me that luxury. Not when she shoves me back with a palm to my chest.

“Brotherly banter,” I shrug, keeping my grip tight on her waist so she can't get too far. I won’t let her put distance between us now.

“I’m going home! You sure you’re not coming tonight, Ray?” Laura’s voice cuts through the quiet like a knife, and Raylen freezes.

She’s hesitating.

Everyone else can go to hell. I barely get time with her as it is.

I lean down, my voice brushing her ear. “Should I tell her you’re not going with her because you’ll be coming for me? Or do you want to do the honors?”

“I’m fine!” she shouts back. “If I come over, it’ll be later!”

Her voice is too high-pitched to pass off as casual. I’m sure later she’ll blame the crashing waves and roaring engines, but I know better. Her cheeks are tinged pink, and her nose scrunches up in that way it always does when she’s flustered.

I shake my head with a quiet laugh and pull her tighter against my side. I haven’t walked this path since the day I killed my grandfather, but I don’t want to take her home yet. I’m not ready to let this night go. I want to draw it out—breathe it in before the weight of everything crushes me again.

“Just so you know, I could tell it was more than brotherly banter, even as an only child.” I dig into my pocket for another cigarette. Talking to someone about it would be nice, but I can only say so much without spilling everything.

“We have different opinions on certain things. All siblings do,” I say vaguely. The words come out around a puff of smoke as I light up, my free hand gripping her hip like an anchor. She gasps from the pressure, and I smirk.

We wind around a rusted mesh fence, the path narrowing beneath our feet. A flicker of light barely spills from a dented warehouse door ahead, casting faint shadows across the cracked pavement.

“What is this place?” Raylen asks.

Good question.

I could provide a thousand answers, but they would all sound insane. I guide us past the main entrance toward the side metal door, which is warped from heat and time. My chest tightens as memories flood in. I can still taste the ash from that day and feel the burn in my lungs when I thought Cordelia was trapped inside a plane. I screamed so hard that my voice gave out.

Caspian tried to send me back to base after we heard something moving inside this building, but I didn’t go. I stayed. I was freshly eighteen and half-feral with grief.

I push the door open and nudge Raylen inside first. She fumbles with her phone, turning on the flashlight.

“There are so many things that stay hidden from the world,” I say, almost to myself. “Abandoned buildings. Lost jobs. Buried bodies. We call them secrets… like that justifies the lies we tell to protect them.”

I swallow hard, trying to avoid following the beam of her phone, which is clouded by dust particles, as I walk around the vast space. A loud crash occurs behind me, but I don’t look back, afraid Raylen will see me laughing, assuming she just tripped over one of the many empty storage crates scattered throughout this place. After that day, the only people who returned were the cleanup crew. They removed the crashed, burning plane and even came in here to try to make the space look less like a crime scene.

It didn’t help at all. The boarded-up windows and the old, dusty equipment make this place look like it belongs in an episode of *The First 48*. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I swear I can still smell the gun smoke. If I strain my ears, the throbbing in my head makes my imagination take over, and it feels likeCordelia’s scream is still echoing off the brick walls, the moment she thought I shot Caspian instead of my grandfather.

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