"You should eat."
I jumped at the voice right behind me, spinning and wincing at the sudden pain in my ribs. I'd just gotten my side to stop throbbing from Jonnie’s kick, but that sudden movement set me right back again.
"Eat?" I said to Ben.
He grinned, looking far too fresh after last night. Guess it didn’t hurt that he was genetically blessed with perfect teeth and rugged good looks. "You're going to need the energy today. Eat as much as you can." He leaned down even closer, and he smelled as good as he looked with a musky, woodsy scent clinging to his clothes. "I'll help the best I can, but if it's too easy, Dylan will notice and make our lives hell. Just... keep an eye out for my signals."
He was gone then, weaving through the tables to where the guides all sat. Including Dylan. Speaking of, it looked like his eyes were on me now, and I shifted uncomfortably under that stare. His anger appeared to be growing with time, but since he seemed to still be avoiding close proximity to me, I decided to follow Ben's advice: time to eat.
I lifted the bacon and egg sandwich and took a big bite, then groaned at how damn good it was. They'd mixed relish and mustard in with the fillings, and even though it was cold now, it might be the best food I'd ever eaten.
Lawsons aren't fat, Brooklyn.
Fuck Blake and his psychological bullying. I'd done plenty of exercise yesterday and was entitled to eat more than my usual half a cup of granola and a fat-free yogurt.
The sandwich disappeared faster than I’d expected, and as I swallowed some water, I looked around for a bathroom. It would be nice to clean up a little before the next task headed our way. Spotting one off to the side, I grabbed my backpack, unsure if I'd be punished for letting it out of my sight, and made my way inside.
Unlike my cabin, this room had showers, toilets, fluffy gray towels, and a fairly modern bathroom setup. As desperate as I was to shower, I didn't want to risk being naked in a unisex bathroom, so I satisfied myself with using the toilet and a quick sponge-off with a towel.
Desperately wishing for a toothbrush and toothpaste, I searched through all the drawers, but they were empty. Could I make it back to my cabin? Breakfast was still in full force, judging by the sound of the shouts outside, so I might have time.
Stashing the heavy bag in the corner under the sink, I lifted the sliding window, and icy air smashed me in the face. I hadn’t expected the drop to the ground to be too bad, but when I stuck my head out to look, I found a rocky and uninviting drop.
Dammit. I mean, I could simply walk out the front door and deal with the consequences, but I was too exhausted to think about facing Dylan. I mean, the drop really wasn’t that bad, right?
Hooking one leg out, I dangled on the edge for a second, reminding myself it was only pain and that if I landed in exactly the right spot, I probably wouldn't damage anything too seriously. I just had to protect my head and spine; most other injuries I'd recover from.
Finding my fortitude, I had just twisted to duck under the frame, when the bathroom door opened. Dylan stood there.
Our eyes locked, and he shook his head. "Don't fucking move a muscle, Ser... Brooklyn."
His scowl appeared again, like the almost-slipup of my name reminded him that I'd lied to him. Repeatedly. Between sucking his dick, though, so he should count himself fucking lucky.
Ignoring him, I knew I had a second to move before he got to me, so I all but rolled myself out the window, bracing for the impact when I hit the ground. Only I was jerked to a stop by Dylan. He’d somehow managed to get those long-ass arms out the window and caught the edge of my jacket. He hauled me up with ease, but since my provided jacket wasn't of the best quality, he almost lost me when the seam ripped. As I was about to fall again, he managed to wrap his arm around my waist, stopping a second fall. He held me, half dangling out the window.
"Do you have a goddamn death wish?" he snapped.
I hadn't been this close to him in weeks, and I couldn't help the way my body responded. Usually, when he held me up, I was against a wall and he was fucking me until I couldn't breathe or see or think.
Today, though, there was no arousal in his gaze. He was uber pissed off.
"I can't be a prisoner," I told him quietly, too tired to fight any longer. My face hurt. The graze on it was superficial, but it needed to be cleaned properly—not to mention my ribs, which were screaming beneath the steel-band hold of Dylan's arms. "I just wanted to get to my cabin and brush my teeth in peace. Maybe change my clothes." New panties would not go astray.
Dylan's gaze shifted to the scrape on my cheek, and there might have been a slight thawing in the icy depths of his eyes. "You will walk out the front door and not take a risk like this again. Understood?"
I nodded, desperate to get away from him. This was too hard. Too much. Kicking my Dylan habit had been almost more than I could manage, and being in his arms again was tempting the addict.
With his help, I got back through the window unharmed. He stayed right on my ass as I shakily left the room, heading past the rowdy tables and the much less rowdy, but definitely more interested in us, table of guides. Dylan's staff had no idea what to make of the current situation, and honestly, neither did I.
Dylan, thankfully, let me go the rest of the way alone, and as he sat at his table again, he snapped something at the others and they quickly got their eyes off me. My own tension didn’t fade until I was out of the building, heading toward my cabin.
Outside it was chilly, but most of the snow had already melted, leaving a muck of icy dirt in its wake. This aftermath of a small snowstorm was my least favorite part of the white, fluffy stuff.
My boots were covered in mud by the time I got to the cabin, and shivering, I ducked inside and slammed the door closed behind me. I wouldn't put it past Jonnie to ambush me again, and as I had that thought, I quickly slid one of the rickety old tables in front of the door. It wasn't going to stop him, but it'd give me a couple of minutes to find a weapon.
With no clue how much time I'd have before we were called to the next task, I hurried to my bag and pulled out a change of clothing and some toiletries. Next to the toilet was a sink, and surprisingly, it had decent pressure and hot water. So I stripped and washed up even better than I had in the other bathroom, brushing my teeth twice before I dressed again in new clothes.
I actually felt somewhat decent when I moved the table and opened my front door. As I stepped out, I ran straight into a hard chest, and whatever joy I’d built up vanished in an instant.
