Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

He didn't say a word just reached over and gently mussed her hair.

Clara kept her eyes on the road, not even trying to dodge his touch.

The drive back was quiet, neither of them breaking the silence.

Halfway home, headlights flashed as a car suddenly sped past them from the other direction. Clara's lashes fluttered. She caught a glimpse a shadowy figure in the passenger seat, there and gone in a heartbeat.

She slammed on the brakes, her back pressed hard against the seat. The other car faded into the distance, but she couldn't shake the feeling-she knew what she'd seen.

That silhouette-it looked just like Z.

Her lips tightened. Instinctively, she dialed Aiden.

Glancing at Dylan, she said, "I need to take care of something. I'll have Aiden come pick you up. Just wait here for a bit, okay? I'll be home before ten, I promise."

Dylan didn't answer. The warmth in his eyes slowly disappeared.

Clara didn't notice. She shoved a jar into his hands, still scanning the road behind them. "Go on-get out. Aiden will be here in about an hour."

He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. "Where are you going?"

"I..." Anxiety twisted inside her. She dropped her gaze. "It's just something I have to handle."

He got out, standing at the edge of the road, the wind ruffling his hair.

Clara hesitated, not liking the way she felt. She grabbed the scarf off the seat, hopped out, and quickly wrapped it around his neck.

"You've been feeling under the weather lately. Don't get sick. Just wear it, okay?"

As she tucked the scarf in place, she suddenly remembered-it was part of a couple's set she'd bought on a whim. The other was with Z.

Her hands froze. She slowly unwrapped the scarf, tossed it back into the car, then shrugged off her own jacket and draped it over Dylan's shoulders instead.

She didn't say anything else. She just turned, got back in the car, and drove off.

After that explosion on the edge of the city, she'd been sure Z was gone. But that figure in the car-she couldn't have imagined it.

Was it possible he'd never died at all?

Clara floored the gas, but the car she was chasing was long gone.

She ended up back at the old temple, standing at the foot of the massive stone steps, staring up in a daze.

The temple was already under renovation. Streetlights glowed along the walkways. A few monks passed by, their robes brushing softly against the ground.

Clara took a deep, shaky breath. Maybe she was losing her mind.

Everyone had heard about the explosion, about the people who'd died in that house.

But really, who besides Z―with his stubborn, solitary streak-would have chosen to live somewhere so dark?

A dull ache filled her chest. Maybe that's just how it is-grief only really hits when you let yourself fall intò old memories. Then it all rusbes in at once.

She stumbled back to the car, rubbed her face, and started driving home.

Her nerves were shot, her mind buzzing. Out of nowhere, a conversation replayed in her head.

"I wanted him gone. The cleaner the break, the better."

"Someone like that, with a life like his... he's not good enough for Clara."

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

That was Dylan's voice.

She pressed her hand to her forehead, those words echoing again and again until sweat broke out along her brow.

She forced herself to keep driving, and over an hour later, she finally made it back to the spot where she'd left Dylan.noveldrama

She figured Aiden would've picked him up by now.

But there he was still standing under the streetlamp, clutching the jar, completely alone.

A flare of anger shot through her. She parked and rolled down the window, ready to scold him, but before she could say anything, he spoke first.

3.19

"I was waiting for you to come back."

All her words caught in her throat. She didn't know what to say.

Was he serious? Was he actually going to stand there all night, just waiting for

her?