Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 839

Clara couldn't say for sure if she even understood Dylan. His feelings for her had always burned hot, but there was something about them that never quite made

sense.

She couldn't remember how it all started-how he'd first begun to care for her.

A dull ache throbbed at the back of her skull as her eyes locked onto something carved into the wall of the rundown house. The scratchy letters were almost hidden by grime and time.

Just two clumsy words: "Senior Brother."

The carving looked old, the lines uneven and shaky. She must have done it

herself, probably back when her vision was so bad she could barely see what she

was doing. Now, if she squinted, she could just make out the words.

Clara drew in a deep breath. She'd always wondered: who was this "Senior Brother" anyway?

She'd known about him for years. But whenever she'd asked Ryan or Simon, they both looked blank. No one seemed to know anything.

Sometimes, she even doubted if he was real at all.

had existed. He'd saved her when she was nearly dead, nursed her

she grew up, she'd marry him and

on those words now, it felt like a memory from someone else's life. She couldn't

met, right? It was at that underground fight club. You made a killing. I bet alongside you, made out pretty well too. You mentioned you liked someone,

look, flexing her fist. "Call him a jinx one more time and

that guy? Weren't you searching for someone? You spent a ton of money, went a little crazy. Honestly, that's the only reason you'd even risk going to a place like that. The North American

As he spoke, bits and pieces of that night

more,"

needed the money. I'm guessing you paid off some people at the club to help you look for clues. Maybe that's

tell you his name?"

a man stepping outside. He fell quiet and

it-Grayson's courage came

around the outpost, just in case there were others

circling once, she realized it was just the

was about to head back when Grayson suddenly let out

Dylan to have started something, but instead, Dylan was holding a snake, its patterned skin bright and

the snake, the deadlier the poison. And the one in Dylan's hand

went pale. "Did

two tiny puncture marks on his palm, blood still

said, "It's nothing." Yeah, right. Like she was going