Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 698

Dylan let her go, but his eyes stayed locked on her face. “There are twenty bullets in this gun. No one expects you to actually use it. Those guys won’t see it coming—you could take them out, no sweat.”

Clara didn’t hesitate. She wasn’t scared, either. Honestly, rescuing someone seemed less terrifying than dealing with Dylan right now. Especially after he handed her the gun. He looked… bothered, almost pained.

She slipped her hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out the gun, turning it over in her hands. It felt weirdly familiar, the grip fitting perfectly—like it was made for her. Memories flickered through her mind, brief and confusing. Had she ever pointed this gun at him? Had she ever pulled the trigger?

The images vanished, gone in a flash, leaving her feeling a little lost. She gripped the gun tighter and looked up at Dylan, searching his face. “Was this always mine?”

She couldn’t shake the feeling. The gun was special—definitely custom, nothing like the others she’d seen.

He didn’t answer, just reached out and ruffled her hair. “I trust you,” he said softly.

She was meant to shine, to be extraordinary. Even if her light never really touched him.

Head bowed, Clara studied the gun, wondering if she’d actually shot at her own husband before… and he’d kept the gun anyway. The thought made her head throb, and her heart ache. She tried not to think too hard about it.

“Honey, I…” she started.

But he leaned in and kissed her again, cutting her off. He always did this—he was usually so cold, so distant, but when it came to kissing her, he never held back. He kissed her like he couldn’t help himself.

She tilted her head back, and suddenly felt something press between her lips—a tablet, bitter and cold. She stiffened, pulling away, frowning. “What did you just give me?”

Dylan didn’t answer. He just moved back to his seat. “Time to wake up,” he said quietly.

Clara felt a rush of irritation, though she couldn’t even say why. Then he added, “Fifteen minutes. I’ll wait here—if you come back.”

She climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind her, still fuming without knowing exactly who or what she was mad at.

*

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify