Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 632

Palm Bay, the capital.

Aiden paced nervously by the door, his eyes darting toward the doctor as he stepped out. “Still nothing?” he asked, voice tight with worry.

The doctor let out a sigh, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Aiden, I told you before—he can’t keep taking that medication. He’s way over the limit. Now the side effects are starting to show. He’ll probably have hallucinations—hearing and seeing things that aren’t there.”

Aiden’s guilt was written all over his face. Two days ago, the boss had collapsed out of nowhere, and he hadn’t woken up since.

Last night, someone mentioned a cottage on the outskirts got bombed. But in Palm Bay, no one really paid attention—everyone was too focused on Dylan, just hoping he’d wake up soon.

Aiden felt completely lost. The boss had been in rough shape for a while, barely holding it together with medication. No one expected things to get this bad after Mrs. Ferguson walked out. Now, not even the pills were helping.

“So what do we do now?” he asked quietly.

The doctor glanced at Dylan, lying motionless on the bed. “We wait. When he wakes up, two pills at a time, no more. I gave him a bottle meant to last, but he finished it in four days. It’s no wonder he passed out.”

Aiden just nodded, closing the door softly behind him as the doctor left.

He’d barely made it downstairs when someone rushed over. “That cottage really was bombed last night.”

Aiden almost laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. Who would go all the way out there to target that place? It was in the middle of nowhere.

A knot formed in his stomach. He had a bad feeling about this, but until Dylan woke up, there was nothing he could do.

Dylan finally came to at sunset, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Aiden was right there, relief flooding his face when he saw Dylan’s eyes flutter open. “Sir, you’re awake!”

Dylan’s collapse had been so sudden, Aiden could hardly believe he was finally up.

Moving slowly, Dylan propped himself up and reached instinctively for the bedside drawer.

Aiden quickly stepped in. “I’ve got your meds. Two pills, no more. That last episode was from taking too much. If you keep this up, you’re going to start seeing and hearing things. Please—don’t take any more for now. And… the cottage outside the city was bombed.”

Dylan leaned back against the headboard, his expression cool, almost indifferent. “Alright.”

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