Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 568

Clara was running on empty. Just getting Dylan upstairs had wiped her out, and now she could barely catch her breath.

“What are you talking about?” she snapped.

Nicholas hovered at the edge of the bed, ready to yank her away. But before he could, Jackson stepped up and put a steady hand on Nicholas’s shoulder.

Nicholas, already agitated, spun around. “Are you stopping me right now? Did you not see what Clara’s up to? She’s totally making a move on Dylan. The guy’s ridiculously good-looking—she probably thinks he married her because he actually likes her.”

Jackson didn’t even bother arguing. He just grabbed a clean tissue from the nightstand and stuffed it straight into Nicholas’s mouth.

“Enough. Give it a rest,” he said.

Nicholas spat the tissue out, glaring. Something felt off—weren’t he and Jackson supposed to be on the same side here? Why did it suddenly feel like Jackson was defending Clara?

Before he could say a word, Jackson dragged him away from the bed. Then, with an icy glance at Clara, he said, “Since you’re so eager to take care of Dylan, have at it. But if anything goes wrong, you’re taking the fall.”

Clara stared at them in disbelief. “Seriously? A little help here would be nice! Changing bandages isn’t exactly a one-person job.”

Nicholas tried to step forward again, but Jackson yanked him back.

Nicholas finally lost it. “What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?”

Jackson rubbed his temples, clearly done with the whole scene. He shoved Nicholas out the door, tossed a quick, “We’ll check on Dylan later,” over his shoulder at Clara, and disappeared downstairs with Nicholas in tow.

Before Clara could even call after them, they were gone.

She looked down at Dylan, frustration and worry flickering across her face. His head had slumped quietly onto her shoulder, suddenly looking so peaceful and innocent.

Honestly, changing his bandages alone was exhausting. She’d thought having backup would help—but apparently, she was on her own.

With a sigh, Clara picked up the gauze and got back to work. Her fingers brushed against Dylan’s bare skin, sticky with blood and crisscrossed with fresh wounds. She noticed him flinch ever so slightly, and a wave of regret washed over her.

Why had she picked a fight while he was hurt? She could’ve just waited until he healed before bringing up anything about going home.

Downstairs, Nicholas paced back and forth, restless and uneasy. He was convinced Clara had it out for Dylan.