Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara hated how Aaron made her feel-there was something cold and angry about him now, his eyes filled with a bitterness aimed squarely at Dylan.

She clutched the bouquet, trying to brush past and head for her car.

Aaron didn't move. "So, you really don't care? Or are you just so dazzled by Dylan that your boyfriend's death doesn't matter to you anymore?"

Clara froze, her grip tightening on the flowers. She despised how people like Aaron kept tossing Z's death in her face, like it was just some piece of gossip.

Aaron leaned closer, his voice light but edged with something sharp, like he was about to tear open an old wound.

"That explosion outside the city? It wasn't Dylan. It was Richard."

Clara couldn't help it-she actually laughed. The whole thing was just absurd.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Aaron said. "Richard's been pushing you and Dylan together from the start. Now your boyfriend's dead, and suddenly you and Dylan are closer than ever. Dylan let it happen. You think those two are heroes? One stood by, the other did the dirty work. Even if Dylan didn't kill your boyfriend outright, he's the reason he's dead. And now you're falling for Dylan, right into his trap. If I were your boyfriend, I'd be clawing my way out of the grave just to yell at you."

Clara's face went cold, but Aaron wouldn't let up.

"Oh, and by the way-I met your boyfriend once. He told me he always felt not good enough for you, but he liked you so much he never wanted you to see his face. Careful, desperate, totally in love. Who would've guessed he'd die somewhere no one could ever find him? It's sad, really."

Clara's heart thudded painfully. No one was supposed to know she'd never seen Z's face-not unless Aaron really had met him.

She stayed silent.

Aaron had been off the grid for a while, digging into everything. This was the biggest secret he'd found, and honestly, the most ridiculous.

Clara, dating a guy whose face she'd never even seen.

He'd studied psychology abroad, tried to pick apart her feelings.

He figured a woman like her would only fall for someone who showed her his softest side.

So now, even if he was spinning stories, he knew she'd believe him—at least a little.

Aaron started coughing, hard, his body shaking, his eyes bloodshot.

"Shocked at how I look? You can thank Dylan for that. He killed my brother, and now he's making sure die slow. But I'm not going anywhere until IŒee him fall. Look into it yourself, Clara. You'll figure it out

Diter

sooner or later."

Clara finally escaped, getting into her car, her mind a mess.

She drove to Palm Bay, walked into the mansion's bright foyer, and realized Dylan was nowhere around.

She stopped a maid. "Where is he?"

"He's out back, miss. The family called and asked him to pick up Mrs. Whitmore

from the temple, but he didn't go."

Clara stepped into the garden and

found Dylan sitting alone on a

bench, just staring into space. A cup of tea sat on the table, untouched and cold.

She took a steadying breath. "Why didn't you go to the temple?"

He wasn't heartless-she knew that. The fire at the temple was out now; henoveldrama

should have been there, taking care of things.

He stilled, lips pressed together, then finally answered, voice rough and low. "She wasn't waiting for me."

Clara frowned and sat across from him.

"If not you, then who? She had her faults, but she really did care about you."

He dropped his gaze, eyelashes shadowing his eyes. "If I went, she'd never be at peace."

He knew if he was the first to greet her in death, she'd feel like even the next life

was tainted. She'd always been so devout.

Clara felt a strange ache in her chest. She pulled the bouquet out from behind her back, cleared ker throat, and placed the flowers in front of him on the table.