Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 237

Clara's knees were a mess, blood seeping through her skin, but that was nothing compared to the storm raging in her heart. She'd been glued to the spot, watching Cedric's every move, and only when he finally disappeared upstairs did she pull out her phone to reply to a message she couldn't ignore.

[Is it serious? Have you taken your medicine?]

Cedric barged into Dylan's room, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Dylan, you need to take it easy at home this time."

Dylan, propped up against the bed, just gave a small nod. Cedric knew his son was the strong, silent type, which only added to his frustration. "I don't want a repeat of this. Otherwise, Clara's going to be doing more than just kneeling downstairs."

When Dylan heard Clara was kneeling, his hand tightened around the bedsheet, though his face stayed expressionless. Cedric, misreading the situation, felt a wave of relief. "You've been looking better lately. Maybe she's been some help after all. I thought she was just pulling my leg. Get some rest, okay?"

"Okay," Dylan replied, his eyelids drooping like he hadn't slept in days. Sensing the mood, Cedric got up and left, leaving the estate behind.

Outside, a gentle rain began to fall, and Clara, resigned to her fate, thought she'd be kneeling until sunrise. But then, out of nowhere, the glass doors to the courtyard swung open, and there stood Dylan, wrapped in a coat, not far from her.

Her eyes brightened instantly, and she tried to stand up quickly. Too quickly. She barely got halfway before her knees gave out, a sharp stone digging in painfully.

Dylan's eyes widened, and he instinctively moved towards her, but she stopped him, "Mr. Dylan, it's chilly out here. Just stay put; I'll be alright in a second."

Gritting her teeth, she yanked the stone out of her flesh, and in no time, she was at his side, pale but determined.

Dylan's hand trembled slightly by his side. Clara noticed his lips twitch as if he was about to speak.

She stood there, waiting to hear what he had to say.

But all he managed was, "Clara."

Clara was a bit confused but managed a small smile. "I'm just relieved you're okay. You scared me. If anything happened to you because of me, I'd never forgive myself. Hey, are you hungry? I could whip up something for you."

Dylan seemed to struggle with his words, then took a deep breath, "Sure."

Clara helped him to the sofa and was about to dash to the kitchen when he caught her wrist.

His eyes were deep and troubled, "Sit down. Let’s sort out that knee first."

She was tough when it came to pain, waving him off, "I'm fine."

But before she knew it, he had gently but firmly pushed her onto the sofa. Her trousers were quickly rolled up, revealing her battered knees.

Dylan fetched the first aid kit, rolling up his sleeves, ready to clean the wound himself.

Clara quickly reconsidered and pulled her leg back. "I can handle it."

She snatched the disinfectant spray from him, spritzed her knee, and grabbed some ointment from the kit, hastily smearing it on before rolling her pant leg down.

Dylan's hand hovered awkwardly in the air, fingers curling as he slowly sat back.

Clara had already noticed the fading bite mark on her calf from Z. She didn’t want Dylan asking about it, especially since it was a bit awkward having her boss see it.