Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Dylan slipped out quietly, leaving the Ferguson family's birthday party still in full swing. The old man wanted to chat more with Rai, and Mrs. Ferguson, saying she felt unwell, had already excused herself to the family chapel.

When Dylan got into the car, he just stared at his phone, dazed. The missed call stared back at him, proof that everything that had just happened was real-not some strange dream.

Clara... she was really at Palm Bay.

He lowered his gaze and finally spoke, voice soft. "Are we almost there?"

Aiden glanced back from the front seat, sounding half-amused, half-exasperated. "Sir, we just left."

"Oh." Dylan went quiet, eyes glued to his phone, lost in thought.

Forty minutes later, the car stopped in front of Palm Bay. Dylan stayed in his wheelchair all the way inside, rolling straight to the master bedroom. He still couldn't quite believe it, even when he saw her lying there on the bed.

The doctor was already there, checking Clara over with the kind of focus that made everyone else anxious.

After a thorough exam, the doctor finally said, "Mrs. Ferguson's amnesia doesn't appear to be from the car accident."

Dylan moved closer, hand outstretched, but paused when his fingers brushed the edge of the sheets. He hesitated-then, after a few seconds, seemed to make up his mind and gently wrapped his hand around hers.

Her hand was so much smaller than his.

Charles hovered nearby, glancing between Dylan and the doctor, obviously stressed. "Wait-if it wasn't the car accident, then what was it? And when did she even have a car accident? Can you guys please just say what you mean? My head is killing me. She was totally fine tonight-honestly, she looked like a badass when she fired that gun. Sure, I'm still better looking-maybe by a lot—but if she's even a third as cool as I am, that's pretty impressive."

He rambled on, half bragging, then stepped up to Dylan. "Hey, what's with that look? You act like she's dying. She's just sleeping, right?"

He'd found her napping earlier, after all.noveldrama

Dylan didn't answer, just squeezed Clara's hand a little tighter.

The doctor gave Charles a look that clearly meant "enough." Charles fell silent,

but immediately claimed the other side of Clara's bed, fidgeting anxiously.

The doctor spoke carefully. "Sir, your wife's going to be fine-she just needs time to recover, the same way you did after your own incident. Her body shut down for a few days because it just couldn't handle any more. And after that high-dose injection recently, then with what happened the other night... I know you meant well, but she's only human. She's not made of steel."

Dylan's voice was rough. "It's my fault." He lifted her hand to his cheek, eyes closed.

The doctor seemed relieved. "She'll just be out for a few days. Honestly, she's stronger than most people. But you need to know-her memory loss didn't start with the car accident."

Dylan brushed her fingertips against his face, almost as if he was afraid to let go. "I know."

The doctor left it at that. If Dylan understood, that was enough.

Charles rolled his eyes at the silent exchange, but he'd caught the important part: Clara would wake up in a few days. She'd be fine.

He yawned loudly, finally taking in his surroundings. He'd been in and out of Palm Bay twice today, but hadn't had a chance to look around.

"Hey, Dylan," he piped up, "can I crash here for a few days? For Clara's sake?"

He scratched his face, half-nervous about being told no. Sure, he could try and sneak around if he had to, but his big brother would lose it if he caused another scene in the Capital. His brother had warned him again and again, not to make trouble here. Cóntent