"You're too easy on her! She ruined your life! MY LIFE!" Benny screams loudly. I press my back further into the wall and bite down on the inside of my hands when a sob threatens to escape. I shut my eyes, praying for a way out of the scene before me.
"Get out! Get the fuck out!" Alex yells. "This is business! This isn't for your personal fucking pleasure! We got her here and now we wait! She stays unharmed, and you don't get near her until it's time to turn her over. YOU GOT ME?"
Benny mumbles something I can't hear and I hear his stomps begin to fade away. My body goes rigid when I hear footsteps approach, and I snap my eyes open in a panic.
"Sorry about that, chick," Dean says, crouching down in front of me. His face and T-shirt are full of blood as his hazel eyes search my face.
"What the fuck was that about?" Alex asks gruffly, standing by the door with his arms crossed over his chest.
"He beat her," Dean explains casually and I feel my eyes go as wide as saucers. Benny has hit me, but he wasn't the one who did this to me. I swallow loudly and avert my eyes from Dean, hoping I can cover up my discomfort before looking back at them.
Alex gives me a long thoughtful look before he shakes his head slowly and looks at his feet. He doesn't apologize, but he makes me feel it. The washer timer goes off and I force myself to get up and tend to it.
"I'm leaving. Watch her 'round the clock. I don't care what you gotta do outside of here, cancel. Tell Jamie you got something else to do and let someone else handle it for you," Alex says before walking away.
"Got it," Dean replies with a nod.
The next morning, I'm awakened by the sound of clattering dishes nearby. I sit up, startled, when I see Dean standing in my room holding a tray. I'm surprised that he changed into a pair of jeans and a black leather jacket. I don't know where I figured he would be staying, but since he's supposed to watch me around the clock, I didn't think he would go home. For some reason the thought of him going home in the middle of the night bothers me.
"Sorry, chick. I knocked and called out for you, but you never answered. Brought you food," he says as he puts the tray down on the floor beside me. I nod in appreciation and am once again thankful, when I watch his eyes trail down my body, that they provide me with clothes that fully cover me.
He clears his throat. "Not much to do here, huh?" he asks, averting his eyes to survey the empty room. The only thing here is the mattress and a tiny television that sits on the floor across from me. It gets three channels and I stopped watching it when the news came on, showing a picture of me and Cole last Christmas. The reporter said the authorities were losing hope in the search for my body, as if they assumed I was dead. After that, I decided that I'd rather not know when they were calling off the search. It's not like they would ever find me here anyway. Not that I know where I am, but I know it's not easy to find. That much is obvious from all of the illegal drug activity going on right outside this door.
I shrug before placing the tray on my lap. "Guess not."
I can feel Dean watching me as I eat and my chewing begins to slow. I put my fork town and wipe my clammy hand over my sweats, my eyes searching the eggs and eyeing the orange juice.
"What's wrong?" he asks, his face scrunched in confusion when I look at him.
"Why are you looking at me?" I ask, irritated.
His eyes widen, registering my insinuation. "You think I put something in your food?" he asks incredulously.
"You say that like it's impossible," I scoff with an eye roll.
His scowl deepens and he shakes his head slowly. "I can't believe you still don't trust me."
My jaw unhinges. "I can't believe you expect me to!"
He draws an O with his lips as he lets out a slow breath. "I guess I can't, but I would never put something in your food."
"So why are you staring at me?" I ask, picking up my fork to play with the eggs that I so badly want to finish eating.
The side of his mouth turns upward. "Just trying to figure something out."
I inhale and exhale a breath before I continue eating. I groan when I find that he's still staring at me.
"Well, figure it out and stop looking at me!" I snap.
He laughs a little and I glower at him, refusing to share his amusement over my annoyance.
"Oh, chick. You're actually pretty cute when you're upset."
I roll my eyes and take a sip of juice. "Why are you even here? With these people?" I ask in a whisper and watch his eyes widen in surprise.
Dean doesn't seem like he belongs with Benny or Alex or even any of the men that work outside my door every day. He just seems like a regular guy. He's oddly mysterious, but he still seems like a regular guy that I would see around school. I just don't get it.
"I..." He clears his throat. "They're family," he replies with a casual shrug.
My lips twist in disgust. "My condolences."
His answering grin makes his face light up and I catch myself staring at it before I remind myself who he is and snap the hell out of it. He may be nice to me, but I don't know what he's capable of. I know he's capable of stalking me, and I know he was okay with Alex and Benny taking me before he found out "who I was"—whatever that means.
"They're not all bad," he says after a couple of seconds of us looking at each other. "Benny and Alex are just more fucked up than the rest of them."
"Well, you kidnapped me," I retort with a raised eyebrow.
"No, I didn't. I watched you, I didn't actually take you," he replies slowly.
My mind drifts back to that day. I was in the park enjoying the spring breeze while reading Cole's letter. Text messaging Cole and getting his response before getting up and walking away without a care in the world, then hearing gunshots at a distance and people screaming.
"Did you kill my bodyguard?" I ask quietly. Every time I replay what happened in my head, I wonder what the hell happened to him. Those shots I heard must have been aimed at him.
Dean exhales and shakes his head. "Bruce? Contrary to what you probably think of me, I don't kill for anybody."
I avert my eyes from his and let his words saunter in my head for a while before I look at him again.
"How do you know his name?" I ask quietly.
"I know everybody in your life, Blake," he replies slowly.
I'm not really surprised by that. He did follow me around, after all. He was bound to see me with everyone I was around, but I wonder just how much he knows about me that he's not letting out. He may know more about me than I do. In fact, I know he does, and although that scares me, I think I'm more terrified of finding out more information about myself. That's what got me here in the first place, my constant need to solve this puzzle. I decide to steer this subject in his direction instead.
"Are you like...a mobster?" I ask, my eyebrows knitting together.
His laugh answers my question. "I...oh shit, I don't even know how to...you don't want me to answer that," he says in between laughs.
His carefree laugh makes my blood boil and the fact that I keep staring at his mouth while he does it makes me even angrier.