Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 485

Clara sat in Dylan's car, a knot of nerves twisting in her stomach. Ever since Jeffree’s death, it felt like she was trapped in a sticky web of confusion. When the car stopped in front of a quaint little house in Palm Bay, she stayed put, mulling things over for a couple of minutes before finally asking, "Dylan, are you handling Jeffree’s case yourself?"

She didn’t understand why she was here tonight, especially since Jackson seemed set on keeping her under wraps. Was there something Dylan needed to ask her?

Dylan had already settled his wheelchair on the ground. He paused for a moment, absorbing her question in silence, before moving forward without a word. Clara sighed and followed him inside.

They walked to his bedroom door, and she hesitated briefly before stepping in. By the bed, a few roses stood fresh and lively, like they’d just been picked. Before she could ask about them, his phone rang.

His expression was calm, but his eyes had a dangerous edge. "I can’t. I’m not coming tomorrow night," he said into the phone. Clara pieced it together—his family, the Fergusons, had a lot going on with the holidays, and as the heir, he was in the thick of it.

His calls seemed endless, stretching on for a solid half hour. Clara wasn’t sure where to sit, or if she even should. Finally, after an hour, he wrapped up the last call and looked at her.

"Jeffree’s situation is being taken care of by the council," he said, implying she was off the hook.

Relief washed over her, but she couldn’t shake off the curiosity—why was Dylan helping her? Even in her muddled state since the amnesia, she’d noticed his constant support.

She glanced at his wheelchair, voicing the question that had lingered in her mind. "Dylan, about your legs, have you ever blamed me?"