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69. Chapter 69

Chapter 69

L ayla swallowed a lump in her throat and took another step back.

She'd been told not to trust anyone, but she knew Jackson meant this man in particular.

Dylan folded his arms across his expansive chest, and the snarl turned into a sneer. Whatever truce he had called while Jackson had been unconscious was well and truly over.

"Well, look who's walking around the place as if she owns it," Dylan said. "Did you sleep well, princess? Was it too much for you to give your boyfriend a sponge bath?"

Taking care of Jackson required much more than that, and he knew it. His anger wasn't about that.

"I would have thought Jackson wouldn't have let you out alone. Or has Micah already failed at his babysitting duties?"

She recognised that tone. Dylan's ego had been wounded when Jackson had chosen someone else over him. There was nothing more dangerous than a bully walking around like that—they tended to take their frustrations out on other people.

"I only came downstairs to eat. I'll go back now," she said.

She'd only half turned when Dylan gripped her arm as painfully as he had the first time.

"Aw, don't be like that," he chuckled. "You'll be here for months. I think we should get to know each other a little better, don't you?"

She'd lived in fear since her arrival, so her pounding heart didn't surprise her. What did surprise her was the fact that Dylan's was the same. She could hear it faintly beating alongside hers as he invaded her personal space from behind.

"Jackson said I was free to—"

"While Jackson is incapacitated, I'm the boss around here," he said against her eyes.

His warm breath made her shiver, and the sound of her heart eclipsed Dylan's. Jackson told her he could feel it when she was afraid, but he was fast asleep. Even if he wasn't, he'd needed help to get to the bathroom, so there was no way he would be able to walk down the stairs to help her.

A door opened across the hall, and Dylan tensed. His fingers tightened around her arm and made her wince.

"Amber," Dylan said gruffly. "Why are you in the house?"

Layla looked up and saw the brunette who'd threatened to take Jackson from her, strolling into the hallway. And instantly, her fear of Dylan was replaced by her dislike of this woman. Amber, was it? The woman was sexy, and she knew it. If she wanted to seduce Jackson, she would probably succeed.

But it would be over her dead body.

The violent thoughts took over her mind. She knew she was being irrational, but she couldn't stop herself. Her fists clenched as the woman got closer.

"I got bored and decided to hang out," Amber said with a smile at Dylan.

The brunette didn't even look at or taunt her as she had the first time they met. And she was looking at Dylan as if he was her next snack. Was it Dylan she wanted or Jackson? Or both? Maybe werewolves didn't care about how many beds they slept in.

The confusion cooled her thoughts for a moment.

"I told you to stay outside," Dylan said. "Go and find something else to do. I'm very busy."

And that was when Amber looked at her and gave her a small, catty smile.

"I think I'll do that," Amber said before she turned to walk down the hallway.

She knew what the woman meant by that. She was going to try something with Jackson!

Layla went to follow her, but Dylan pulled her back. He dragged her further down the hall to the conference room and shoved her in before she could react. She stumbled and then righted herself as she rubbed her arm. That was going to bruise. Did werewolves seriously not know their own strength?

"Sit. You and I need to talk."

While that woman was going after Jackson? Her heart hurt just thinking about it. And again, she knew that was ridiculous because Jackson was not hers, and she didn't want him to be.

"Sit, Layla," Dylan repeated.

It was her fault. She knew she was walking into danger but had left the bedroom anyway. She could have found other ways to spy.

"Okay, don't sit. I don't give a shit," Dylan said as he walked over to a side cabinet and poured a drink into a shot glass. He downed it in one go before he faced her again.

And his heart was still beating hard. Because he knew Jackson wouldn't like this? Hadn't they planned her murder together? So why was he so uneasy?

"You need to tell Jackson you want to leave."

"I have. Several times," she pointed out.

"Yeah, right," Dylan snorted. "You have him making decisions he wouldn't normally make just to keep you here. Whatever you're doing to him, just stop. I don't buy that innocent victim bullshit. You're a liability, Layla. You've already cost us a lot, and I can't put up with it anymore."

The women in the kitchen had spoken about someone being murdered, and then there was the fact that she didn't know how Jackson had punished the men who had tried to rape her or the girls who had beaten her up.

But she was the victim here. She was the human they could all kill without a thought. How could she possibly be a danger to anyone?

"I've already tried to leave twice, and he's brought me back. I don't even know where the hell I am, and you've got my sister. I've been locked in a room most of the time. What am I supposed to do?"

Dylan's head cocked to the side as if he was trying to gauge if she was telling the truth. Could they do that? She moved from one foot to the other as she nervously waited for his next move. Maybe her best option was to assume they were some sort of lie detectors as well as being able to tell how she was feeling. And they could hear her no matter how quiet she was. Could they hunt her like real wolves, too? She would have to be like a machine to fool them.

Dylan straightened, and the stern look disappeared from his face. Without the anger on his face, he looked very handsome. His dark hair was long at the top and short at the sides, and his body probably sent women's hearts into overdrive. She'd never noticed his eyes were such an interesting shade of green. She hadn't noticed anything about any other man besides Jackson because he consumed her from the moment she saw him in the hotel room.

Maybe all wolves had unique eyes like that. It was something she would always notice if she managed to leave this place alive. It would help her to keep her distance from them.

She watched him pour another drink before he walked over to a seating area in front of the conference table to sit down.

"You really want to leave?" he asked again.

Before Jackson had passed out, her answer would have been crystal clear. But with all these unwanted, unwelcome and confusing feelings she'd woken up with, she wasn't sure anymore.

Still, there could only be one answer to that question.

"Yes. But not if it gets my sister hurt."

Dylan swallowed his drink and then sat back.

"Then I'll help you."

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