Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Tara knew Dylan better than anyone. Once he got involved with someone-even if it was just out of responsibility-he'd never really treat her badly.

She slipped off her clothes, moving slowly, hesitating a second before reaching for the last piece. That's when the man on the bed suddenly opened his eyes.

Tara's fingers froze. The stuff her uncle gave her was supposed to be strong— Dylan shouldn't be awake.

She crept closer, her heart racing when she caught the heat in his gaze. For a second, hope flickered across her face.

"Dylan..." she breathed.

She leaned down, aiming for a kiss, desperate to make this real before anything changed.

But Dylan shoved her away so hard she almost fell off the bed.

She managed to steady herself, took a shaky breath, and tried to keep her voice soft. “Dylan, are you awake? The doctor said there was nothing else he could do. He told me to stay and... help you, in case things got worse."

It was all about covering herself-making sure Dylan knew this wasn't her idea, that she wasn't the mastermind here.

Dylan pushed himself upright, acting like he hadn't heard a word.

He tried to get off the bed, but Tara blocked his way. "Your body's at its limit. If you don't... if we don't do this, something could go wrong. Dylan, I don't want anything to happen to you."

Every muscle in Dylan's body was screaming, his mind barely holding it together as some wild, uncontrollable urge threatened to take over.

He hated this, hated feeling like some kind of monster trapped in the dark. "Get away from me," he growled.

He tried to shove her again, but this time Tara clung to him, holding on tight.

"Dylan, I know you're struggling, but I don't care. I want to help I could be your cure, and I swear I'd never get between you and Clara. After tonight, I'm leaving. I'll be gone for good. So please, stop fighting me. It's killing me to see you like this."

Dylan looked at her, eyes sharp and searching.

Tara thought she was finally getting through. She leaned in, hoping for a kiss, but he stood up suddenly and walked straight to the bathroom.

"Dylan!" she called, panic rising. She was so close-she couldn't let him slip away

now.

But he stepped inside and locked the door behind him.

Tara banged on the door, frustration burning in her chest. If she forced her way in, she'd make too much noise. People outside would definitely notice.

She had to gamble that Dylan would be too out of it to remember anything clearly later. Maybe no one would ever know what really happened.

She drew a deep breath and went to work-pinching her own skin until angry red marks appeared, making it look like she'd been grabbed and held down. She made sure the marks went deep, even to places that wouldn't show. Then she tore hér clothes, as if Dylan had been desperate for her.

She finished by rubbing her lips until they were red and swollen, like she'd been kissed too hard.

When everything looked perfect, she finally stopped.

Loud crashes echoed from the

bathroom. Inside, Dylan was

1.n

gripping the sink, his mind a mess of noise. His hands shook as he knocked everything off the counter, bottles and glasses shattering on the floor.

If Aiden had seen it, he'd be shocked. Dylan usually just locked himself away when things got bad he never destroyed things like this. It showed just how much pain he was in.noveldrama

He slid down the wall, chest heaving, eyes burning with a wild red that seemed to reach his very heart.

But the heat inside him was unbearable, like fire ants crawling under his skin.

He couldn't take it anymore. He punched the mirror, shattering it, then grabbed a piece and pressed at to his shoulder, using pain to fight the fever raging through him-fo hold on to whatever was left f himself.

Kon

He'd never cared about these kinds of drugs before, but Flynn had gone all-in this time. The medicine clashed with whatever else he'd taken-one cut wouldn't last

long.

He slumped against the wall, eyes empty, remembering what the doctor once told him:

If you ever feel like you're losing control, focus on something that matters. Hang on to a memory.

Something unforgettable.

He thought of last night's kiss-hot and desperate. He remembered her shining eyes. He remembered her voice, trembling with tears as she whispered,

"Honey, you love me so much."