"I won't," I interrupt in a low voice, flinching when he takes a step forward.
"Good," he says. "You have work to do today."
They walk out without another word and I get up carefully, dragging my feet to the bathroom. I brush my teeth, careful not to hit the inner wall of my bruised right cheek. Once I'm done rinsing, I stare at the woman in the mirror, a ghost of my former self. With the exception of the bruises, my skin looks pale, almost translucent; a far cry from the golden skin I had before I got here. I don't know her anymore, and I'm not sure if I'll become her again. I don't even know that I want to. That woman, that scared woman, the one that locked all of her doors because she thought it kept her safe, is now locked in a room with no way out. How fitting.
I shower as quickly as I can without causing my body more pain, dress in gray sweat pants and a white baggy T-shirt, and carefully bend back down to sit on the uncomfortable mattress again. I'm lost in thoughts of Cole when I hear a single knock on the door. It opens slightly and Dean tucks his head in. After seeing me dressed and ready, he steps in and places a tray of food in front of me, which I devour in two seconds. When I look up from the empty plate, he's eyeing me curiously.
"Have they been feeding you?" he asks, his voice low.
"Yes."
"Hmm. And you've been doing the laundry for them?"
I nod slowly as I look into his confused hazel eyes.
"Well, let's go," he says, getting up and taking the tray with him before extending a hand to help me up, which I refuse. I place both hands on the mattress and awkwardly push myself up so that I don't flinch in pain.
I take a step forward, and my knees buckle before I straighten both legs and push my shoulders back. Dean puts the tray on top of the TV and takes two strides until he's directly in front of me. I stumble two steps back, blinking rapidly while looking at his narrowed eyes.
"Where else did he hit you?" he asks, grinding his teeth. Bewildered by the hostile tone in his voice, I just stare at him, my breathing becoming ragged. I'm unsure of what to expect. Alex had never really hit me before last night, and even though I'm afraid of him, he's still the lesser of two evils.
"He...why does it matter?" I ask as my eyebrows knit together.
Dean exhales and ruffles his brown hair before extending his hand and touching my bottom lip with his thumb. I take in a breath; my feet cemented not letting me move away. "Let's just say I have an issue with women being hit." He shrugs, dropping his hand from my face.
I nod once and finally let out the breath I'm holding. I contemplate not replying to him, it's not like he can or will help me anyway. He helped get me here, after all. He's just as bad as they are. I brush past him and walk out of the room as he trails behind me.
"He's not the one I worry about," I mutter, looking around at the three men that are already here and breathing a sigh of relief when I see that the one I'm referring to isn't one of them. Dean grabs my elbow and pulls me back harshly.
"What does that mean?" he asks with narrowed eyes.
I squint back. "What are you my savior? Where the hell have you been for the past...whatever amount of days?" I ask angrily before yanking my arm away from him.
He lets out a short laugh behind me before mumbling, "Savior...that's new."
I continue down the path that leads to the laundry room and begin my daily task, which unfortunately doesn't take long enough. I throw the white coats that the men in the other room use into the washing machine, and throw their stained gloves into the trash can, before sitting on the floor. Dean sits down on the wall opposite of me and we both stare at the floor.
"Look, chick, I don't want you to get the wrong idea, I'm not here to save you or anything." He starts running his hand through his hair and exhaling. "Gimme some time to figure shit out. Maybe I can help you out," he says quietly. I can feel his gaze on my face, but I refuse to turn and confirm that he's staring at me.
"Why would you help me?" I ask, my voice dripping in disbelief.
"Because I know who you are. Because helping you might help me," he states simply.
I turn my face and glare at him. "Yeah, you made that perfectly clear the last time we had a run-in, remember?"
"Of course I remember. But I didn't know what I know now and I changed my mind about helping him," he replies with a slight shrug as if a life, MY life, is a freaking game.
"Oh, you changed your mind?" I scoff.
He gives me a menacing stare. "Yes. You don't have to believe me. Like I said, I'm not here to be your fucking prince charming, you already have one of those, remember?" he says with a raised eyebrow. My jaw unhinges and my heart begins to thump rapidly against my chest, but before I can reply to him, the door beside me suddenly kicks open full force. I shriek, crawling backwards when I look up and see dark eyes narrowing in on me, until my back collides with the tips of Dean's boots.
"What are you doing here?" Benny snarls looking over my head.
My stomach clenches when I notice the absence of Dean's shoes on my back. I bring my legs up to me, clasping my knees together and wrap my arms around my legs, my eyes glued to Benny's cold black eyes. I want to avert my eyes from his, I wish I could so bad, but he holds me there; holds me prisoner. Chaining my insides slowly together and tugging, waiting for me to crumble. But I won't. He tears his glare from me to look at Dean in disdain, waiting for an answer.
"Alex told me to watch her, the fuck do you care?" Dean snaps back, making my eyes widen. I've never seen anybody talk back to Benny, other than Alex. Benny is not really a big guy, but he has the most menacing face, with a scar that trails from his right eyebrow to the top of his lip. His jaw is always hardened and his lips remain set in a grim line, but it's his eyes—his soulless eyes make him menacing.
"Why would you have to watch her?" Benny asks, even his question sounding like a demand.
Dean shifts his feet and stands in front of me, blocking me from Benny. They're now standing face to face, testing each other. They both have an athletic figure, but Dean is actually fit, whereas Benny looks like he drank an entire Corona delivery truck.
"You've been beating her?" Dean asks in a low voice, stepping closer and causing Benny to back up a step. I scoot back a little more, just in case this turns into a full-out brawl.
"What's it to you?" Benny spits back. "You can't fuck 'er, ya know? Alex will cut off your balls and feed 'em to ya."
"Fuck you. You touch her again and I'll cut yours," Dean grinds out.
Benny shakes his head in amusement as he laughs. "So fucking touchy when it comes to women. What ever happened to Sarah, anyway?"
Dean's nostrils flare and he lets out a growl before his fist collides with Benny's jaw, making him fall back. I gasp and scoot my back flush against the wall before clasping both hands over my mouth to keep myself from screaming. Benny attacks back by punching Dean in the stomach, making him hurl over. He recovers quickly and lurches his body forward, slamming Benny's back against the wall.
"That's enough!" a man shouts loudly. My hands start quivering over my mouth and tears form in my eyes. "Benny, I told you not to come down here unless I was here!" he screams.