Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 587

Simon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. His eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Dylan, is Clara happy these days?"

He still hadn't given up on Clara, and every time he said her name, there was something playful—and a little suggestive about it.

Dylan walked right past him without missing a beat.

Simon took a drag, then choked on the smoke, coughing before he could get his next words out. "You know, I brought up that prison on purpose at dinner. Every year, you go to Greenwood Cemetery, but I doubt you're there for Shelly. Are you hiding something from the rest of us?"

That stopped Dylan. He turned, looking over his shoulder at Simon, a half-smile playing at his lips-cold and unreadable.

Simon felt the shift immediately. Dylan's vibe turned dark-like a cold fog creeping up from the floor and settling around him.

Dylan reached out and plucked a leaf from a plant nearby. The sap stained his fingertips green.

"People who know too much," Dylan said quietly, "usually don't last long."

It was the first time Simon had ever been threatened so directly.

But the more Dylan acted like this, the more certain Simon became: the child had to be hidden there.

"Relax, Dylan. I'm sure I'll outlive you. And Clara-she'll be mine."

Dylan let out a low chuckle, tossing the leaf aside. "You know, my father doesn't care how many Fergusons back home die."

eyebrows knitted together. What was

turned away, voice low and final. "Your

as he was about to leave, his tone softened, just a hint. "My wife's my responsibility. I know how to

need anyone else's sympathy. That much was

expression twisted, the word "wife" hitting him like

into the car, his hands started shaking, his face pale as

pills into Dylan's palm and pressing a bottle of water into

please. You need your

scowled, popped three pills, and reached

voice. "You've been taking too

side effects will only get

seat, his other hand trembling.

Aiden floored it.

*

room, half-watching TV when the front

turned her head, glanced over, then went back to pretending she was interested in the

to do and no phone, TV

whirr of wheels grew louder.

them. Dylan got up from his wheelchair and, without asking, slid down

deep breath. "The whole couch is empty and you have to sit right

words barely left

Dylan suddenly stretched out and laid his head in her lap-smooth and unhurried, like he'd done

"Dylan!"

was getting