teach you something different."
I stumbled over a tree root but caught myself before hitting the dirt.
"Like what?" I asked, hoping like hell he couldn't see my flaming blush from almost face-planting on the ground.
Ben just shrugged. "How to stand up for yourself, maybe? Or... how to defend yourself? Just a thought."
With that, he sped up and disappeared down the trail ahead of me, probably to catch up with the rest of the group, which was fine by me. I preferred to be alone most days, anyway. But after hearing that from Ben, that someone who barely knew me could see I needed to stand up for myself more? Yeah, I would rather be alone.
11
I vomited at the end of the ten-mile run. It wasn't something I was proud of, and I think I managed to do it without anyone seeing, but it still happened. Maybe Ben was right about me getting something different out of this camp, after all. Maybe I'd walk away with a better endurance for running, which could come in handy if—when—I finally ran from Blake.
"Go and wash up," a deep voice rumbled, and I damn near jumped out of my skin.
Spinning around, I quickly wiped my mouth off on the back of my hand as I locked eyes with my green-eyed demon. "I wasn't—"
"Jesus, Brooklyn," he muttered on an exhale, his voice quiet. "You're not cut out for this. Go and wash up; lunch will be served in fifteen minutes."
He stalked away before I could find any words, and embarrassment stung as I made my way to my own cabin. The other boys had long been back, so no one was around to see the stupid, hot tears roll down my face.
Damn it all to hell. Why hadn't I just taken Dylan up on his offer the last time we'd been together? He'd seen my bruises; he'd offered to fix things. But my stupid Lawson pride hadn't let me accept.
I picked up my pace, hurrying to my cabin so I could brush my teeth to get rid of the vomit taste. My stomach was rumbling something awful after the morning’s activities, so I didn't want to be late for lunch.
Of course, that would be too damn easy. Halfway from my cabin to the dining hall, Jonnie popped out from behind a tree like a goddamn Disney villain.
"Brookie, girl, you've been avoiding me." He leered like I was actually going to deny that statement. Jonnie was a goddamn creep; of course I avoided him. In this case, though, it was just a lucky coincidence.
"Stay away from me, Jonnie," I told him in a voice that only trembled the tiniest bit. "Blake will kill you when he finds out you've put your hands on me."
Most of the time, mentioning Blake’s sick possessiveness of me was enough to make his men back off. Most of the time, it worked. Today... apparently wasn't going in my favor.
Jonnie stalked closer, getting up in my face like his sheer height would intimidate me into a quivering mess. Okay, it kind of did. He was so much bigger than me that I wouldn't stand a chance if he forced himself on me.
Still, I'd be damned if I went down without a fight. I raised my hand, intending to slap him across the face, but he caught my wrist easily.
"Tsk-tsk, Brookie." Jonnie snickered. "I thought all that fight had been beaten out of you years ago. I think I'm glad it wasn't. I love hearing screams."
The way he said it, the way he looked at me, I knew he wasn't talking about screams of pleasure. No, Jonnie was a sick fuck who got off on the fear in his prey.
"Lawson!" a voice cracked through the chilly air. "Lunch has started and you're late. Is there a problem?"
Jonnie's glare darkened, but he let me wrench my wrist free of his grip and push past him.
"No problems," I replied to Matthew in a quiet voice as I hurried up the steps to the dining hall. "Just a misunderstanding with my brother's employee." I shot a pointed look at Jonnie over my shoulder, and he just sneered back at me.
"Actually, Brooklyn, I needed to let you know something." Jonnie clicked his fingers, like he'd just remembered. "You mind, bro? Personal business." He gave Matthew a look like the asshole thought he actually held any power in this camp. It almost made me laugh.
"Yeah," Matthew replied, folding his arms over his chest. "I mind. If it's important, spit