Chapter 718 Shackled by Fever

Yunice wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, so she followed the slow movement of his hand with her eyes until he pressed his palm over her stomach and even had the nerve to smile. “I must be at least thirty-nine degrees by now. I’ll warm you up so it doesn’t hurt.”

“…You’re insane,” she muttered.

Wyatt didn’t answer. His eyelids kept drooping, only to fight their way back open, stubborn as a child who refused to sleep.

Yunice stared at him, the heat of his palm seeping through fabric into her skin. Her chest felt strangely tight. She pushed herself up, ready to walk away–only for her wrist to be caught again.

She turned. His hand had slipped down but clamped onto hers with startling precision.

“Wyatt!” she snapped.

Clingy as an octopus, relentless.

She yanked, twisted, pried at his fingers until her arms ached, but his grip wouldn’t break. Exhausted, she sank down beside him.

Still, she kept her distance. Even so, his fever radiated like a furnace, heating half her body until her skin prickled with restlessness.

She tipped her head back at the bright, indifferent moon. If this dragged on any longer, Jordan would surely be back.

Dropping her gaze again, she caught Wyatt’s head lolling against her shoulder.

She gave a sharp laugh. “You never miss a chance to take advantage.”

Her palm pressed against his forehead, shoving him back against the tree trunk.

“Wyatt! Ma’am!” Jordan’s voice cut through the night like static.

Yunice groaned in frustration.

He pushed through the undergrowth, eyes flicking between her glare and Wyatt slumped against the tree.

In an instant he grasped the scene and hurried forward with forced cheer. “I’ll carry him! Don’t be mad, or Wyatt will be heartbroken.”

Yunice’s jaw clenched. Words failed her.

Jordan hoisted Wyatt onto his back but immediately staggered under the weight. Glancing back, he saw why: Wyatt’s hand was still locked around Yunice’s wrist.

“If you don’t move, I can’t carry him,” he said carefully.

“I’m not going with you,” Yunice shot back.

Jordan hesitated–then pulled a knife from his belt. “Then cut his hand off. You’ll be free.”

“You two planned this, didn’t you?!” she burst out.

He plastered on a fawning smile. “Come on, show a little mercy. When you first came back to the Saunders family, Wyatt didn’t hold back in helping you. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?”

Memories flickered unbidden through her mind.

Seeing her waver, Jordan pressed harder. “We’d better hurry. Paul and Nora are sly. If they slip away while no one’s watching, we’ll regret it.”

Yunice finally stopped resisting, letting Wyatt’s grip pull her forward as they headed down the slope.

Jordan’s voice rambled on with every step. “Funny thing–we were all classmates once. I never noticed Wyatt had feelings for you. When you came back, we thought you and Paul had cooked up a plan, playing the long game to get close to him. Everyone thought he was just acting, but turns out he was dead serious.”

He puffed, then shot her a look. “We never leaked Wyatt’s location. Yet you tracked him straight here. You’ve been watching over him all along, haven’t you? To be remembered by you–our Wyatt should feel blessed.”

Yunice let out a dry laugh. “I watch him only to keep him from crawling too close. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Jordan chuckled. “So sharp-tongued now. Did you always pretend to be sweet, only to bare your fangs after you got what you wanted? Revenge finished, mask off?”

“And what if I did?” she retorted. “What can you do about it?”

At the base of the mountain, they piled into the car.

Paul and Nora were shoved into the trunk, bound together like discarded baggage.

In the backseat, Wyatt sagged beside Yunice.

Jordan fussed over him before suggesting, “The road’s rough. Let him lie on your lap, or he’ll slip.”

“No,” Yunice said flatly, eyes on the window.

“He let you rest on his lap once, when you were unwell,” Jordan reminded her carefully.

She stayed still. Jordan gave up, propping Wyatt against the seat.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, he started the engine.

But when the road grew bumpy, his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.

And there it was–Wyatt, no longer slumped against the seat, but stretched out with his head resting squarely on Yunice’s lap.

Only the muffled groans from the trunk broke the rhythm of the jolting ride. Paul and Nora had no such comfort, tossed together in the dark.