Darkness Before Dawn

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