Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)(47)

I sensed it wasn’t in my best interest to let them know about my newfound softer emotions regarding the four of them. To let them know that I was starting to … like them. That I would cry if Jasper died.

And Beck … I refused to even think about him not being in the world.

Dylan settled in near Beck. “Did you get a call out?” Beck asked him.

Dylan nodded. “Yep. Reinforcements are on the way. They tracked our location.” He checked that fancy watch with a thick black dial that he always wore. “They’ll be here at 0300 hours. Which gives us six more hours to camp out and wait.”

I shivered because night had well and truly fallen now, only the light of the fire illuminating the area, and the moment that sun disappeared, the temperature had dropped. Could we survive another six hours in this sort of environment?

Beck reached out and draped an arm around me, pulling me closer into his side. We were both padded up in thick jackets, but somehow I could still feel his warmth right along the parts of my body he pressed. As he tightened his hold, I flinched at the sharp pain in my ribs, but I didn’t complain. I was finally warm.

“Body heat is essential to survival,” Dylan said softly, his eyes glittering in the half light as he watched Beck and me. “I’m going to make another shelter, and then the five of us … we’re going to get very well acquainted.”

A blush stole across my cheeks at the mental images of his words. All four of the Delta heirs were hot as fuck, and deadly in a confident way that definitely did it for me. But I was a one dude sort of girl, unfortunately, because that might have been fun.

We did have six hours to kill.

Dylan and Beck managed to pull the shelter together in about thirty minutes. It was close to the fire, but not so close that we had to worry about burning to death in our sleep. One of the blankets was laid down over the half-frozen ground.

“I’ll take first shift,” Evan said, as he helped his friends lift Jasper inside. “Keep an eye on things.”

He situated himself on a log just near the opening of the shelter, and I handed him one of the remaining two blankets.

“I’ll take over in two hours,” Beck said. “Dylan will be the final shift.”

Once that was agreed, we all ate a quick snack—some soft cheese, because it was all my throat could handle, and a quarter of a bottle of water for me. Then I crawled in next to Jasper. The first thing I did was feel for his temperature and pulse. His skin was clammy again, and his pulse felt fast, but he was still alive, so I just brushed a hand over his head to wipe the moisture from his skin before settling in next to him. My head was cushioned on my arm, and I immediately had to change positions then because my bruised ribs screamed at me, but on the other side, my broken arm screamed at me, and I was left flopping around like a fish.

Beck let out a rough sound before he reached out and pulled me into his chest. It almost felt like all my breath was knocked out of me, as I sprawled across his firm body, everything inside of me relaxing. “Do you want some painkillers?” he asked, his voice rough.

Knowing that would probably require him to leave, and I was far too comfortable for that to happen, I shook my head. “I’m okay … but can you sleep while I’m sprawled across you like this?” I asked, my eyes already starting to close.

I might have been more comfortable, but Beck needed sleep too.

His chest shook as he laughed in a low, sexy way. “I think I can manage.”

Dylan crawled in then, I felt him slide in on the other side of Beck, the four of us—mainly due to their stupid, sexy ass muscles—were a pretty tight fit. But it was warm, and cozy, and for a moment I forgot the traumatic events of the day.

For a moment, I just drifted in a sea of comfort.

“You didn’t finish telling us about your parents,” Jasper said, startling me out of my half asleep state.

His voice sounded pained, and I worried immediately that he was getting worse. It felt like he wanted me to talk him to sleep—or distract him—and even though I really didn’t want to speak around my aching throat any longer, I would talk for the rest of the night if it kept Jasper alive.

“It was a car accident,” I said softly, knowing even Evan in the doorway could hear. “We skidded on black ice, which I know is a common occurrence, but my dad … he grew up driving those roads. He’d never had an accident before. I still don’t understand how it could have happened.”

For some reason, in this moment, my deepest pain was spilling from me, and considering my company, I should have been more careful with the weapons I was giving them, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care. “My mom died on impact, broken neck…” A memory teased me then ... a random thought that there was important information about that night that I had forgotten. “My dad died at the scene from massive internal injuries.”

“But you survived, somehow?” Dylan asked, propping himself up so I could see him on the other side of Beck.

I shrugged tiredly. “I was the only one with a seatbelt on, both of theirs malfunctioned the day before from the cold. Our car was a piece of shit.”

The silence after that was heavy, and I realized that it sounded stupid, said out loud, to think that my parents’ seat belts would malfunction when mine didn’t. I mean, we’d all assumed that at the time, but … could it really have happened? Like a terrible twist of fate on the very night that we would roll from slipping on black ice. When my dad had never slipped on black ice before.