Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 831

After Vivian finished talking, she seemed to lose all interest in everything around her. She pressed her hand to her wound, face pale as a ghost, like she might pass out any second.

The night fell quiet, almost unnaturally so. Clara leaned back against Dylan’s leg, glancing up at him.

He just stared into the campfire, as if the flames were more interesting than anything—or anyone—else.

Men are impossible to figure out, Clara thought. Their hearts are like locked boxes at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t until after eight the next morning that Clara woke up. Dylan was slumped against a stone wall, fast asleep. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, stood up, and stretched with a sigh.

Vivian’s voice broke the silence. “Our helicopter will be here by noon. We’ll need to find a clear spot soon. See you in North America.” She glanced over at Dylan—he looked cold, even in his sleep.

“Clara,” Vivian added, “when you get to North America, let’s catch up.”

Clara blinked. “How do you know I’m going there?”

Vivian grinned, tired but sly. “Because Dylan’s going, and you like him now, don’t you? Of course you’ll follow. Listen—if you run into Louella, stay away from her. She’s always telling all of us who like Norman that Mitch hangs around here, like it’s some big secret. Truth is, she just wants us to walk right into trouble. She gets off on seeing everyone else miserable.”

Louella was spoiled, mean, and never cared about anyone but herself.

Vivian, leaning on someone for support, limped off into the distance.

Mya took a few steps, then glanced back at Clara, something complicated flickering in her eyes.

One of the guys nearby said, “Clara does kinda look like Louella, don’t you think?”

Mya pressed her lips together. “You remember why Louella always got special treatment? That face of hers, she looks just like—”

Someone interrupted, “Let’s not say any more. The Chester family’s business isn’t ours to gossip about. Even if we can’t stand Louella, when we see her back home, we’ll still have to smile and play nice. Their issues have nothing to do with us.”

The three men were all from old families in North America, close with Vivian. No one said anything else; they just headed toward the open field ahead.

In no time, only four people were left at the campsite.

Clara nudged Dylan awake. “Eat something. Where do we go next? You seem to know your way around—why not lead?”

He didn’t answer, just packed up their things, grabbed her bag too, and started walking.

Clara hurried after him. “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

Tara wiped her eyes and stormed off into the woods. “I thought I’d finally found someone who liked me.”

*

Clara followed Dylan for a while, then stopped in her tracks.

Dylan walked ahead a few steps before he realized she wasn’t behind him. He waited, then finally turned around. “What’s wrong?”

She stood there, nudging a pile of fallen leaves with her toe. “I was starting to think you’d decided never to talk to me again.”

He finally spoke. “You and Norman—did you know each other before?”

“I don’t know. I still haven’t remembered anything.”

She caught up to him, took her bag back, and grabbed him by the wrist. “You don’t actually think Vivian was talking about me, do you?”

“Don’t see him again.” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the jealousy.

Clara’s lips curled into a smile. She squeezed his fingertips. “See, was that so hard? You could’ve just admitted you’re jealous.”