Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 256

As soon as the words left his mouth, the office door swung open, and in rolled Dylan, casting a quick glance their way. Clara stood by her desk, with Simon leaning against her, looking all too comfortable. Dylan's fingers clenched slightly around the armrest of his wheelchair.

Clara suddenly wondered if Dylan had orchestrated the beating Simon received. Simon had run his mouth in the office earlier—not as recklessly as Lincoln, who had outright threatened Dylan—but enough to challenge Dylan's authority. Was this Dylan's subtle way of putting Simon in his place? If Simon acted up again, would he end up like Lincoln?

Dylan wheeled himself slowly over to Clara's side. She swallowed, trying to keep her tone respectful. "Mr. Dylan, I didn't realize you were burning the midnight oil too."

Dylan's eyes lingered on the hand Clara used to steady Simon, and for some reason, Clara felt her palm grow warm. Simon had planned to rile Dylan up with a few choice words, but the pain he was in was no joke. He looked like he might pass out from it.

"Clara, I feel like I'm dying. Please, take me to the hospital," Simon pleaded.

At first, Clara thought he was exaggerating, but she could feel his body trembling slightly, like he was fighting off serious pain. It seemed like he really had made a break for it from the hospital.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "Simon, are you a kid? Running over here like this—your mom's gonna have a go at me again."

Simon didn't have the energy to argue and just muttered a weak, "I'm sorry."

For a moment, Clara didn't know what to say. If Simon had thrown a fit like he did that morning, she wouldn't have hesitated to give him a piece of her mind. But now, with him about to keel over, it seemed too harsh to lash out.

She steadied him and nodded to Dylan. "Mr. Dylan, we're heading out."

She expected Dylan to stay quiet, but he surprised her by repeating, "You two?"

Clara's back went rigid, guilt creeping up on her. But remembering Dylan's attitude towards Eden, she straightened up and helped Simon to the elevator, leaving Dylan behind.

"I've been at work all day, just got home. Planning to shower and hit the hay," she fibbed, even letting out a yawn for effect.

There was a pause on the other end before he quietly asked, "You're not lying to me, are you?"

Clara sat up straighter, wondering if he somehow knew what she was up to. But Z lived way out in the sticks and spent his time working part-time at a club, so he couldn’t possibly know much about her life. He was like a loyal golden retriever, always waiting for her to come home.

With that thought, she scolded herself for being so paranoid. "I wouldn’t lie to you."

"Then I believe you, Clara. I miss you."

He always said those words, each time with such earnestness, as if he might not get another chance to say them.