Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 836

Clara had noticed that restless shadow pacing outside for a while now. She couldn't help herself—she got up and walked out. "Hey, what's with all the lurking? I saved your life, remember? Not even a thank you? And how exactly do you know me, anyway?”

Grayson went white as a sheet and stumbled back a good ten feet. “Clara, please, don't talk to me.”

He remembered that one reckless moment-hugging her out of excitement—and how it almost got him killed.

Now, just seeing that man inside, even if he didn't say a word, Grayson was convinced the guy had already thought up a hundred ways to end him. The guy was terrifying. Back at the fight club, he'd taken on ten top fighters at once. No one thought he'd win. People bet so much, some nearly lost the shirts off their backs.

Clara was even more curious now. She picked up her gun and pointed it at him. “Get in here. Or I swear, I'll shoot."

Grayson's scalp tingled in fear. When had Clara become just as scary as that guy?

He dropped into a crouch, refusing to move any closer. "No way. You'd have to shoot me to get me in there. How can you stand being around him? Don't you know how many people he's killed? Just looking at him freaks me out."

Right then, footsteps echoed from inside. Dylan stepped out.

scrambled backwards, almost tripping

at Dylan, curiosity burning

up under the strict rules of the Ferguson family, learning business since he was a kid. Sure, he could fight, but that was just because his family paid for it. Everything he knew was learned in

fixed Grayson with a

a terrified dog, desperate not to make

just seen. It was like something had zipped right past her feet. Grayson hovered near the fire. From outside, Clara called, "You sure you don't know him? He

down, trying to make

said, just as flat as before. He took

as a ghost. When Dylan sat down by

help but laugh, watching his face. "Come on, spill-how many people has he killed? Why are you

front of Dylan? Everyone knew Dylan hated people

lips trembled. He risked a sideways glance at Dylan, then ducked his head. “I don't know

arms, giving him a little shake. “Dylan, you ask him. If he lies, do whatever

caught her wandering fingers under his chin, voice

did