Chased by My Possessive Ex (Dylan) novel Chapter 73

Chapter 73

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When I woke up, I found the bed empty. I suddenly missed the warmth of his Hunter’s body. It hasn’t been long since I got here, but I’m already used to his presence. I feel like there’s a part of me missing whenever he’s not around. A feeling that I never once felt with Beckett.

Even though we already crossed the line last night, I am still determined to the facts from Hunter. I wanted to know why Beckett lied to me and what could be his reason for doing so.

I tried to get up, but I immediately flinched when I realized how sore I was. My legs were still weak and my stomach started to grumble. I looked at my hand, and the needle that was put on me when I was unconscious was already gone.

Despite the soreness all over my body, I pushed myself to get up. I dragged myself towards the bathroom.

Even in the bathroom, there’s still no sign of Hunter.

I went ahead and started running the water in the tub. I fill it up with warm water before I slowly started undressing. I immediately felt relieved as soon as my body was wrapped with warm water.

I leaned my head on the edge of the bathtub and close my eyes to enjoy the relaxing feeling brought by the

warm water.

The water lapped softly against the porcelain, a steady, comforting sound that slowed my breathing. My muscles loosened inch by inch, the ache dulling into something manageable. I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

Last night came back in fragments. Heat. Weight. Safety tangled with something far more dangerous: attachment.

I frowned, eyes still closed.

Get a grip, I told myself. This was exactly how things got complicated. Exactly how I ended up trusting the

wrong person.

Beckett’s face flickered through my mind, followed immediately by the sour twist in my stomach. Lies had a way of poisoning memories. I couldn’t even be sure which parts of that had been real.

A soft sound broke through my thoughts.

Footsteps.

I straightened slightly, heart stuttering, listening as they moved closer. The bathroom door didn’t open right away. Whoever it was paused on the other side, as if sensing me there.

“Dylan,” Hunter’s voice came quietly, not teasing this time. Careful. “Are you in there?”

Relief hit me so fast it was almost embarrassing. “Yeah,” I answered, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.

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Chapter 73

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The door opened just enough for him to lean in. His gaze flicked to the tub, then back to my face, sharp with assessment. “You shouldn’t be up yet.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Are you going to chain me to the bed now?”

His mouth twitched, but he didn’t rise to it. Instead, he stepped fully into the room, crouching beside the tub so we were eye level. “You were out cold. IV’s gone, which means your vitals stabilized.” A pause. “Are you hungry?”

My stomach answered before I could. Loudly.

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Thought so.” Then, softer, “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked… peaceful.”

That word settled strangely in my chest.

“I don’t feel peaceful,” I admitted.

Hunter held my gaze, unflinching. “I know. I wish I could do something to ease your troubled mind.” His voice lowered.

I searched his face for any hint of deception and found none-just that steady seriousness again.

“You can,” I said finally. “By telling me everything about my past.”

“Finish up. I’ll bring food,” he replied as if he was trying to avoid the topic.

But how long will he planning to keep me in the dark. Was he expecting me to just go along with it, disregarding the fact that he was still basically a stranger to me?

The silence that followed was louder than any argument.

Hunter’s jaw tightened. He straightened, breaking eye contact first, and that alone told me everything I needed to know.

He knew.

The water rippled as I shifted, irritation cutting through the haze of warmth. “That’s not an answer,” I said quietly.

“I know,” he replied, but his voice lacked its usual certainty.

“And yet, you still deliberately tried to avoid that topic. You know you can’t hide it forever and so am I. Were you planning to lock me up here and expect me to follow your words like a bible? Because that didn’t work out so well for me last time.”

That made him look back at me.

Something dark flickered there. He stepped closer to the tub, forearms braced on the edge, close enough that I could feel his heat again. Too close to pretend this was just concern.

“You think I don’t know how bad this looks?” he murmured. “But I know you’ll understand once everything is

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Chapter 73

settled.”

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“Let’s just hope that I will not hate you before that even happens,” I said. My fingers curled against the porcelain.

Hunter exhaled slowly through his nose, like he was choosing restraint over instinct. “Patience, my love. You’re not ready yet.”

I met his gaze, unblinking. “Try me.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. The air between us stretched thin, taut as a wire.

Finally, he straightened. “Get dressed,” he said.

My chest tightened. “And then?”

His eyes locked onto mine again-steady, resolute, heavy with promise. “Then we’ll talk.”

I studied him, searching for cracks, for another excuse waiting to happen. But there was only resolve-and something else underneath it.

Fear.

“Don’t make me regret trusting you,” I said softly.

His expression didn’t soften, but his voice did. “I won’t.” Then, almost under his breath, “Even if it costs me.”

He turned and left the bathroom, the door closing gently behind him.

I sank back against the tub, heart racing now for an entirely different reason.

Whatever he was about to tell me, I knew one thing with chilling clarity.

It was big enough to scare someone like Hunter.

By the time I finished dressing, my hands were steady-but my thoughts weren’t.

I chose something simple, soft fabric that didn’t fight the lingering soreness. The mirror reflected a version of me that looked changed. Not weaker. Like something inside me had shifted its weight and decided to stay.

The smell of food pulled me out of the bedroom and down the short hall. Soup, maybe. Bread. Something warm and grounding.

Soup steaming gently, bread torn instead of sliced, a glass of water placed where I’d instinctively sit. He’d thought about it. That unsettled me more than it should have.

“Sit,” he said when he noticed me hovering. A suggestion wrapped in care.

I lowered myself into the chair slowly, testing my legs. They held. Barely. Hunter watched the entire time, pretending not to.

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