Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

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.

*

Up in the crumbling control tower, Ryan was tied up-hands and feet bound, rain pouring down on him. The place was falling apart. Aside from @handful of men huddled under a bit of shelter, there was nothing to keep the weather off.

Ryan was drenched, freezing, and completely confused. He'd gone to bed at

home, then somehow woken up here, tied and helpless.

His expression darkened as he thought of Simon. Simon had been crashing at his place lately. Had he drugged his drink or something?

Ryan took a shaky breath, cursing himself for being so easy to manipulate and for dragging Clara into it. These men clearly wanted her.

She'd been missing for a while,

totally off the grid. Ryan had this gut feeling Dylan was behind it. There was something off about that

Qunoveldrama

guy-he claimed he didn't care about Clara, but kept her locked away. And if he did care, he never said it out loud. Just kept her hidden.

And then there were the rumors-Clara's last boyfriend, the way he'd just

vanished. Everyone said Dylan was behind it. The man was dangerous.

Ryan's whole body ached, pain radiating from broken bones. The thugs had been brutal-no mercy, no holding back.

He was scared for Clara. If she really came for him...

He took another shaky breath, lungs burning so badly sweat dripped down his face.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed down the pitch-black corridor-soft, barely there.

He stiffened, automatically looking up.

All the men snapped to attention,

grabbing their bats, faces lighting up with anticipation. They were career criminals, paid a fortune to take downOne woman. The spot was perfect-they'd already watched her get out of the car. Soon, a helicopter would come to pick then pup.

Tonight, that woman was supposed to die here. No way she'd make it out.

Then, a figure appeared at the end of the hallway. Ryan's eyes went wide with panic. He shouted, hoarse and desperate:

"Are you insane? Why did you actually come? Run, Clara! Don't worry about me!"