No time for anything fun though. Today, I apparently had to learn how to hunt and survive.
16
Turned out it wasn't entirely hunting; the first thing we learned was plants—which ones were dangerous, which ones held liquid we could drink, and which ones were edible and could keep you alive if you were lost in the great outdoors.
“Clovers are completely edible,” Dylan explained to me. “But they’re perennial, so they’ll die off in winter and return in the spring. In winter your options will be limited, but there are cattails, rose hips, and chickweed. Pine can be boiled into a tea, and the inner bark is edible.”
He showed me exactly what he meant with each plant, and I had to sketch each and every one as we uncovered them. Ben hadn't been kidding about Dylan. Once he stopped being a pretentious prick, he was so fucking smart, and his knowledge of survival was second to none.
"How does a billionaire know shit like this?" I asked after he stopped me from breaking my ankle in a hole hidden in the rocky ground.
He let out a long exhalation, looking one hundred percent a mountain man as he tilted his head back and took a good look around the landscape. "I wasn't brought up the way you might expect,” he finally said. “My family... they were pretty fucked up. I just had my friends, and we had to learn to survive, or the life we lived would have killed us."
We’d never discussed our lives or families before. I knew a little about his through news articles, but I enjoyed having him confide in me. It felt like I was finally getting to know the real Dylan behind the strong, silent sex-machine facade he'd always presented to me on our nights together.
"So... this camp was different when you guys came here?" I’d already heard this from someone else, but I wanted his take on it.
He shot me a somewhat amused look. "About as different as Club Med versus Guantanamo Bay. It really was the torture-level camp that saw some kids go home in body bags. But I guess, for those of us who survived, it taught us all the skills we needed to conquer the shit we went through in life, so it wasn't all bad."
I chewed my lip, thinking on that. I felt so sorry for preteen Dylan and his friends being thrown into life-threatening situations, forced to make the kinds of decisions noadultshould ever have to make. But he was right. Without that horrific training at such a young age, maybe he wouldn't be here today. If they didn't know how to survive in the wild, would he and the other Delta heirs have died in that plane crash a few years ago?
"So, you're trying to teach us the same things without the trauma?" I gave him a soft smile to show I really was trying to understand because Iwasinterested in what his goals were, here at camp and in a broader sense.
He gave a soft, somewhat bitter laugh. "Not even close. But something is better than nothing for most of these spoiled brats." He pushed back to his feet and brushed the dirt from his pants before holding his hand out to me. "Come on; there's loads to be done today. Let's keep going."
I took his hand without hesitation, letting him pull me to my feet. But he didn't immediately release my fingers, and I felt a panicked blush creeping up my neck. Had people guessed that we were more than...? Ugh, we weren't even friends.
Fucking hell, of course they had. Dylan hadn’t exactly been circumspect about his interest in me so far. Maybe he didn't care if people found out. Did Iwantthat?
Well... if I really was pregnant, it was sure as fuck going to push the issue.
The rest of the day was surprisingly enjoyable. It was exhausting, no question of that, but when Dylan and I walked back to camp at the end of the day, we had settled into a weirdly comfortable relationship, like we were actually dating and had just been out to dinner and drinks to get to know each other better... except with hunting and tracking. Go figure.
We’d barely made it halfway to the dining hall, though, when everything went sideways.
A convoy of black SUV's came tearing up a driveway I'd never even realized existed—seeing as they'd made us hike our asses in when we arrived—and some serious-shit kind of guys piled out onto the grass.
"What the fuck?" Dylan muttered under his breath, his brow creasing deeply as he glared at the new arrivals. He marched over to them with authority radiating from every step, and I nervously followed behind—mostly because I had no idea what else I should do.
One of the guys—the one I assumed to be in charge due to his solid eye contact with Dylan—jerked his head in a small nod. He wore a sharp black suit with a black shirt and tie underneath, but it was still obvious he wore several handguns as well.
"Sir," the man greeted Dylan, "we apologize for just showing up. Your email auto-reply advised us that you were in the woods for the day."
Dylan gave a short nod. "We were. Forest survival and hunting." His words were clipped and cold. "What can I do for you?"
The man shifted his gaze past Dylan to me, then back to Dylan. "Is this Brooklyn Lawson?"
My eyes widened. They were here for me? Why? What for? What had I done?
My stomach clenched, and I instantly thought of Blake. It couldn't be a coincidence that he’d gone missing and now these scary-ass dudes were here for me. No way. This had Blake written all over it... somehow.
"What can Idofor you, Kingston?" Dylan repeated his question with a harder edge to his voice and without answering the other man’s question.
Kingston's jaw tightened, and I got the feeling he didn't appreciate Dylan ignoring him. But then... if he worked for Delta, then Dylan was his superior. Who was he going to complain to?
"Sir, we've been asked to bring Brooklyn Lawson into Delta headquarters. Immediately." His gaze shot to me again, flicking over me like he was confused how, exactly, I could be important enough to be taken into HQ. But fuck, I was more in the dark on the subject than he was; he'd get no answers from me.
Dylan took my elbow in his grip and jerked me closer to him. "I think we should speak in my office."
