Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 832

He didn’t say anything, just kept moving ahead with that steady, silent confidence of his.

They walked all morning, the trees growing thicker around them, sunlight barely making it through the tangle of leaves overhead. Clara was about to ask if there were any berries or fruit they could eat out here, but then Dylan suddenly stopped. “What is it?” she whispered.

“Someone’s here,” he replied.

Before she could even process that, gunshots broke the silence.

Clara dove to the side, pressing herself close to him. “How many?” she hissed.

“Around a dozen. Stay alert.”

Clara carefully peeked out from behind a tree. She saw a group of tough-looking people fighting over supplies—not the kind of scene she wanted to get tangled up in, not after the mess from last night. She pointed to a narrow path off to the side, signaling Dylan to go that way. But he just stood there.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He hesitated, jaw tight. “That’s the way I want to go.”

Clara raised an eyebrow. He definitely seemed to have a destination in mind, and nothing was going to change it.

“Alright, then let’s circle around,” she said.

She barely got the words out before a bullet hit the dirt right at their feet.

Suddenly, the two groups who’d been fighting each other turned their focus—now that there was a third party, they decided to join forces against them.

Clara grabbed Dylan’s hand. “Go! Wherever you want, I’m coming with you,” she said, breaking into a run as bullets whizzed past.

Their bodies seemed to move on autopilot—dodging, weaving, reacting faster than their minds could keep up with. Pure survival instinct.

They ran for what felt like miles, until Clara spotted a tree ahead. Its trunk was marked with old bullet holes, the metal buried deep—just the faintest scars left on the bark.

She stopped, staring at it. It was strange—how could she tell at a glance that those were bullet wounds? Judging by how the tree had swallowed up the metal, they’d been there for years.

She pressed a hand to her forehead as pain throbbed again.

The jungle’s heat and humidity pressed in, making it hard to breathe.

Dylan plucked a big leaf from a nearby branch and gently fanned her. “If it hurts, don’t force it.”

Clara leaned against the tree, eyes squeezed shut, sweat trickling down her face. “Just give me a minute. It’s been happening a lot lately. I can’t even sleep through the night.”

Memories darted through her mind—chaotic flashes of a ruined place, her own desperation as she searched for something, voices behind her, someone begging her to stop, but she just kept pushing forward.

“Clara?”

“Clara!”

She opened her eyes to find herself in Dylan’s arms. The sunset filtered through the leaves above, painting everything gold. She closed her eyes again, whispering, “I really have been here before.”