My Ex-Husband Begged Me to Take Him Back - Chapter 206

Chapter 206: The Escape Chapter 206: The Escape The man squirmed beneath him as he struggled, trying to twist free, but Dylan’s hold was relentless.

He hadn’t thought an inebriated man would show such strength.

“Answer me,” Dylan roared.

The man freed himself with a burst of effort, shoving Dylan backward.

Rising to his feet swiftly, he threw a punch at him.

Dylan ducked instinctively and hit him in the stomach.

“Ugh€¦” A deep, guttural groan escaped the attacker as he doubled over, clutching his abdomen.

Dylan lunged forward, but the man was faster, delivering a swift kick that sent him sprawling to the ground.

The impact knocked the wind out, leaving him dazed and vulnerable.

Before he could recover, the man was on him, his hands like iron clamps around his throat.

His grip tightened, cutting off Dylan’s air.

The man’s face twisted with fury-he wasn’t holding back this time.

Dylan’s vision dimmed, his chest burning as if a fire raged within.

Panic surged through him as he clawed at the hands choking him, his strength fading with every second.

Images of Ava flashed before him-her smile, her laughter, her voice.

‘Would she cry for me?’ The thought pierced through his fear, replaced by a resolve stronger than the pain.

The idea that Ava and her father weren’t safe yet and that the hidden enemy was still out there to hurt them ignited a fresh spark of determination.

‘I can’t die yet.’ Gritting his teeth, Dylan stretched his right hand to find something, fumbling along the ground.

His knuckles brushed against something solid-a loose brick.

His fingers closed around it tightly.

Summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, he swung it upward, the edge connecting with the man’s head with a sickening thud.

The man’s body jolted, his grip loosening as he fell back with a groan.

Blood seeped through his fingers as he clutched his head, his eyes wide with shock and pain.

Dylan staggered to his feet, his breath ragged.

He stared at his assailant for a brief moment.

Tossing the bloodied brick aside, he spun on his heel and bolted as fast as he could.

The cold night air hit his face, sobering him completely.

Reaching the street, he waved frantically at the first taxi he saw.

As it screeched to a halt, Dylan yanked the door open and threw himself inside.

“Drive!

Just drive!” he barked.

As the car started running, Dylan looked behind to see if anyone was following him.

There was no sign of pursuit.

The tension in his shoulders eased, and he exhaled deeply, slumping back against the seat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ava lay in bed, her restlessness growing with each passing second.

She turned onto her side, clutching the pillow.

‘Where could he have gone?

Is he safe?

Did he even eat?

Why is he not back yet?’ These questions replayed in her mind in loops.

Her hand hesitated above her phone, fingers brushing the screen.

‘Should I call him?’ But she dropped the idea as her ego reared its head.

“Why should I?

He left on his own.

It’s not my problem,” she muttered, flipping onto her other side.

She forcefully closed her eyes, hoping it would push Dylan out of her mind.

But the excuses felt hollow.

No matter how hard she tried, Dylan’s face wouldn’t leave her mind.

‘He helped you, Ava.

At least check if he is okay.’ Her inner voice grew louder, persistent.

With a sigh of resignation, she reached for her phone again.

But just as she unlocked it, the doorbell rang-loud and insistent, cutting through the stillness of the night.

“Dylan?” Ava shot up, startled.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The relentless chiming only made her pulse quicken.

“Why is he pressing the bell like that?” She jumped out of bed, slipping her feet into slippers as she hurried toward the door.

The moment the door swung open, a figure stumbled inside, collapsing against her.

“Dylan!” she gasped, her arms reflexively wrapping around him.

His weight pressed against her, heavy and unsteady.

“Ava, I thought I’d never see you again.” His face buried into her shoulder, and his arms encircled her.

Ava’s heart thudded wildly.

For a moment, she stood frozen.

Panic rose in her heart when she saw him in this disheveled state, but the smell of booze transformed her worry into annoyance soon.

“Really?

Can’t you ever stop drinking?” she muttered with frustration as she shut the door and helped him stumble into the bedroom.

She eased him onto the bed, her nose wrinkling at the sight of his rumpled hair and filthy clothes.

Her mind immediately pictured him tripping over himself somewhere in his drunken stupor.

“Look at you,” she scolded.

“What a mess you’ve made of yourself.” Kneeling, she pulled off his shoes and nudged his legs onto the bed.

“Your clothes are disgusting.

You need to change.” Her face twisted even more as she eyed the grime and faint stains of vomit clinging to his shirt.

But Dylan, seemingly oblivious to her words, reached out and tugged her down beside him.

Ava let out a startled gasp as she tumbled onto the bed, landing awkwardly in his arms.

“I’m tired,” Dylan murmured and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“Sleep with me.” Ava stiffened, her irritation building, but then her gaze landed on a glaring red lipstick mark smeared across his white shirt.

The sight ignited a hot surge of anger and revulsion within her.

In one swift motion, she wrenched free of his grip and stood, her expression stormy.

“You’re impossible,” she snapped.

“Why did you even come back to me when you’ve been with someone else?” She stormed out and dashed into the guest room, slamming the door shut with a resounding thud.

“Ava, wait,” Dylan called weakly after her, but his words fell flat in the silence.

Wincing, he sat up, his head pounding.

His nose crinkled in disgust as he caught a whiff of himself.

Glancing down, he finally noticed the state of his clothes, the stains of filth glaring back at him.

“Ugh€¦” he groaned, running a hand over his face.

He had been reckless, falling right into a trap.

Now, he was paying for it.

“This is the price I’m paying for getting drunk,” Stripping off his soiled clothes, Dylan tossed them into the laundry bag with a grimace before stepping into the bathroom.

The warm cascade of water enveloped him, washing away the filth and the lingering haze of the night.

His body relaxed slightly under the stream, but the dull throb in his head served as a constant reminder of his reckless choices.

His mind raced back to the incident at the hotel.

‘Who was that woman?’ The question echoed in his thoughts, his hand braced against the cold glass wall.