Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Dylan's throat tightened, like he might cough up blood right then and there.

His phone buzzed. Clara's name lit up the screen.

He froze for half a second. That was her ringtone—the one he'd set just for her.

His heart squeezed. As he pressed the phone to his ear, it felt like the best sound in the world.

Clara was worried he'd heard the wrong news. Dylan's health was always shaky, and if he did something reckless in a panic... She couldn't risk it.

"I'm at the bottom of the hill. Did you hear anything?" Her voice was gentle, but she was clearly anxious.

"Yeah," he said, voice low, stepping into the helicopter. "Wait for me."

Clara finally let out a breath she'd been holding and stood quietly by her car.

The night air was cold, sending her hair flying around her face.noveldrama

Her coat was long gone—ripped away by the old lady earlier—so she was left in just a thin shirt. She looked small and fragile standing there in the wind.

Charles, clueless as always, didn't even think to offer his jacket.

He sat on the hood of the car, petting Milo's head and throwing worried glances at Clara every few seconds, just in case she suddenly disappeared.

The sound of helicopter blades cut through the night.

Clara looked up as the helicopter landed close by.

Dylan jumped out, his long strides eating up the distance between them. In seconds, he was in front of her, pulling her into a tight hug.

He didn't say a word, but Clara could feel everything in the way he held her—the exhaustion, the worry, the relief. It was like he was carrying the weight of the world, and for a second, he just needed her there.

She started to speak, then stopped, letting her lashes fall as she let him hold her as long as he needed.

He finally let go, only when the storm in his chest had faded, and his voice came out hoarse. "You're okay. That's all that matters."

He slipped off his own jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

Clara looked up at his cold, unreadable face. Anyone else would probably think he didn't have a single feeling in him.

She reached up, gently cupping his face in both hands, studying him.

She even pulled him closer, searching his eyes.

He bent down a little, letting her look.

Neither of them said a thing. Even the wind seemed to hush around them.

Charles, still perched on the hood, looked from one to the other and suddenly blurted out, "Are you two about to kiss?"

The whole mood shattered in an instant.

Clara dropped her hands like she'd been burned.

Dylan turned his head away, lost in his own thoughts.

Charles scratched at his cheek, glancing between them. "Did I say something wrong? I just thought, if you guys were gonna kiss, maybe I should turn around?"

Dylan bit back his irritation and finally said, voice icy, "Shut up."

Charles went quiet, patting Milo's head, muttering to himself about how he hadn't said anything wrong and why Dylan had to be so grumpy.

Whatever.

Clara had calmed down again, her voice soft. "The old lady passed away. She..."

Dylan's whole body went still. After a moment, he just nodded.

Clara pulled out the charm, pressed it into his palm. "She wanted you to have this. It was her last wish."

The charm had "Together Forever" engraved on it. It felt like a final blessing.

He stared at the words, his face blank, but Clara saw his lashes drop, hiding his eyes.

After a few seconds, Clara added quietly, "It was the old man who did it."

Dylan looked up, another quiet "Mm."

Clara's chest ached. Her fingers trembled at her side before she slowly wrapped her arms around his waist, letting out a soft sigh. She didn't say anything else.

He was so good. Why did the old man have to treat him like this?

Wasn't Dylan supposed to be the pride of the Ferguson family?