Chapter 36
By the time Clara and her crew rolled into South Ashford, it was already ten at night. The local host welcomed them warmly and whisked them away to a swanky guesthouse. The place had this vintage charm about it that screamed elegance, and they soon found out it was a spot reserved for VIPs.
Clara and Dylan ended up with rooms right across from each other. Dylan, sitting in his wheelchair, had this aura about him that made the host a bit jittery. His voice wobbled slightly as he said, “Mr. Dylan, I’ll take you
on a tour around the area tomorrow morning.”
Dylan gave a nod, and the host, looking relieved, wiped the sweat off his forehead and made a quick exit. Aiden’s room was a bit further down, and when he found out Clara and Dylan were door–to–door neighbors, he was visibly miffed but kept his thoughts to himself.
Clara and Dylan were left alone in the hallway, so Clara opened his door. “Mr. Dylan, get some good rest.”
Dylan always looked impressive, no matter what.
He nodded and closed the door behind him.
After showering and washing her hair, Clara noticed the hairdryer in her room was on the fritz. It was already eleven, and a trek to the front desk felt like too much hassle, so she decided to knock on Dylan’s door.
Dylan answered with his hair still damp, clearly having just showered himself. The water had softened his usual sharp presence. Even though Clara had seen him like this before, her heart skipped a beat. He was in a black robe, looking a little pale and cool as ever.
“My hairdryer’s busted. Mind if I borrow yours? Do you need it now?”
He shook his head and gave a couple of coughs.
After getting the hairdryer, Clara was about to head back when she heard him cough again. She got concerned and asked, “Are you coming down with something? I’ve got some cold meds if you want.”
She figured he’d say no, but instead, he wheeled after her into her room.
Clara pointed to her bag. “The meds are in there. I’ll grab you some water.”
She found a bottle of mineral water, opened it, and handed it to him, then went to dry her hair in the bathroom.
Dylan swallowed the pill and glanced out the window at the picturesque view.
The guesthouse was stunning, with its vintage decor and scenic views from every window. It felt like stepping back into a bygone era.
When Clara finished and came back, she noticed Dylan was still there. She quickly folded the hairdryer cord. “Mr. Dylan, do you want to dry your hair too?”
He didn’t say a word. His whole body seemed tense as if he was trying to tough something out.
Clara rushed over and saw his cheeks were flushed. Sweat was trickling down his sharp features. Her heart sank when she spotted the pills on the bed. They were the ones Scarlette had given her, mixed in with the cold meds in her bag.
A shiver ran through her. She felt his forehead. It was burning hot. He wasn’t just feverish; he had also taken the wrong pill.
If Aiden found out, she’d have a lot of explaining to do!
“Mr. Dylan, I’ll go find a doctor!”
Just as she said that, noises drifted in from outside the window–footsteps and low voices.
“Dylan’s staying here.”
“Let’s make a move. I heard he’s alone tonight.”
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