a series of hot hookups. He didn't own me.
Nope... that was Blake.
Fuck. I needed to work out what was going on with my brother. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen Jonnie around camp making a nuisance of himself since that day he'd told me about Blake going missing. Maybe a bear had eaten him?
As if summoned by the power of my thoughts, Jonnie walked through the dining-room doors and grabbed a plate at the buffet.
"Dammit," I muttered under my breath. "Bears must be too well-fed around here."
"What?" Matthew asked from across the table, wrinkling his nose in confusion. He followed my line of sight, and his eyes narrowed in a scowl. "What's that fuckface still doing here?"
His question wasn't aimed at me.
"Committing suicide," Dylan replied in a cool tone, "obviously."
Jonnie turned from the buffet, facing us briefly as he searched for a seat, and I gasped at the dark bruising around his left eye. Someone had punched him since we’d last spoken, and punched him hard.
I couldn't help myself. I giggled.
That small sound pulled both Matthew’s and Dylan's attention, and I flushed hot with embarrassment. I tried to fake a cough to cover it up, but I didn't think I was really fooling anyone.
Chatter around the table was flowing normally, though, so I just ducked my head low and quietly ate my food. Dylan was being a total prick about me eating "enough," but I was quietly enjoying the opportunity to eat carbs and did as I was told. Who knew when Blake would show up and drag me back to my old life, kicking and screaming?
At least when he did that—and he would, sooner or later—I'd have gained a few pounds and enjoyed some good food.
"Hey, Brooklyn," Ben addressed me as he dropped his plate of food beside Matthew and sat down in the vacant chair. "How was today's training? Learn anything useful?"
Words fled my head as all eyes at the table turned to me, making me squirm in my seat. Fuck’s sake. Where was that backbone I was supposed to find here at camp? So far it was eluding me.
"Um, yeah, it was good," I replied, vague as fuck and praying the subject would shift away from me.
"Oh yeah?" Dylan had a sarcastic edge to his voice, and my stomach sank. "What part was most interesting to you, Brooklyn?"
My face heated further, and I met his green eyes with a hard glare. "All of it."
He rolled his eyes. Motherfucker actually rolled his eyes at me. So much for professionalism. What was he even fucking doing here? He never led any of the exercises or training courses. That was all the guides or expert specialists. Dylan was just... lurking and staring.
"Maybe if you paid more attention instead of flirting with the other campers, you might walk out of this with some valuable life skills, Lawson." Dylan's words were cold and clipped, leaving me totally speechless as he pushed back from his chair and carried his empty plate over to the wash-up area.
He thought I'd been flirting with those douchebags? What the actual—?
"You gonna let him get away with that, Lawson?" Matthew asked under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. Okay, me and Ben, which I realized when my blond friend snickered a laugh behind his hand.
And yet I was still like a damn possum in headlights, just staring at Matthew while I tried to understand what exactly he was saying.
Ben seemed to understand my confusion because he sighed and gave me a sympathetic look.
"Go and kick his ass, Brooklyn," he translated, nodding in the direction Dylan had just gone. "It's not okay to talk to any woman like that, and he damn well knows it. He deserves to be chewed out for it, and you need to work on your assertiveness. So, two birds, one stone. Go get 'im."
I started to shake my head in refusal, but... why the fuck not? Dylan had just accused me of flirting when I was clearly being harassed by those fuckers during our instructional. He was being a deliberate asshole, and why the hell should I keep putting up with it?
After all, it wasn't my reputation on the line if people found out about us. It was his. So if he was really so concerned, he needed to stop being such an insufferable fuckhead.
Clenching my teeth in determination, I pushed back from the table as Matthew and Ben smirked up at me.
"That's more like it," Matthew commented, and