Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)(48)



“Could it have been Huntley?” I whispered, because I knew they were all thinking the same thing as me. “Trying to take me out before I had the protection of Delta?”

Beck’s arms tightened around me, and I buried my head in the padding of his jacket, trying to calm myself. “When was the accident?” he asked slowly.

I blinked. “Just over three weeks ago.”

Three weeks. Was it possible that it had only been twenty-one days since I lost everything in my world. A hot burning in my eyes and throat sent tears cascading from me before I could stop them. A sob escaped, and even though I sucked it back, there was no way any of them could have missed it.

“It’ll get easier,” Beck said, his hand on the back of my neck, tangling in my mess of hair. “The pain won’t ever go away, but you’ll breathe easier one day.”

Another sob rocked through me, and I wondered who Beck had lost.

They let me have my moment, and no one asked anymore questions about my parents, no doubt worried I’d cry all over them again. Eventually I drifted to sleep, an uneasy sleep filled with shadows and death, the color red coating everything in sight.

A sliver of clarity returned when Beck shifted out from under me, placing me directly on Dylan’s chest. “Keep your hands on her back, and only her back,” I heard him rumble, and then he was gone.

Dylan had a nice chest, but it wasn’t as comfortable, and I barely slept for the two hours that Beck kept watch.

When he crawled back into the shelter, bringing with him an icy cold, I settled into my new favorite place in the world. Beck’s chest. His arms wrapped me up, and he pulled me higher—gently enough that it didn’t hurt my ribs too much. I ended up with my head cradled in the crook of his neck while his hand rubbed gently up and down my back.

“All clear out there?” I whispered sleepily.

“Go to sleep, Butterfly,” he murmured back, and in seconds his breathing evened out and he was asleep.

Evan, who had moved over to make room for the changeover of guard, shot me a knowing look before he dropped back down. “Beck definitely likes to keep things interesting,” he said, turning his back on us.

“What do you mean?” I whispered, my words brushing across the skin on Beck’s throat, because I was basically pressing my lips to it.

“Never seen Beck sleep with a girl … fuck them, yes, but the day he trusted a chick to stay longer than that…”

He trailed off, and I tried not to let any sort of hope blossom inside of me. These were not normal circumstances, and sure, Beck could have left me on the hard ground, my ribs screaming in pain—he had that option, but still … not normal. I couldn’t count anything that happened here as what would be back in the real world.

That would only lead to him ripping my heart from my chest and destroying whatever crumbs remained.





14





Beck was gone when I woke, my head and side now cradled in one of the extra blankets. It was still dark, but the light of the fire remained strong. Rolling over, I realized it was just Jasper in the shelter with me. With practiced hands, I reached out and felt his pulse, letting the rhythmic thrum calm the panic I experienced at waking and not knowing if he’d still be alive.

“Thank fuck,” I whispered before shivering in the freezing early morning air. Dylan had not been kidding about body heat, it had made a world of difference. Especially since they’d made sure I was always in the center, protected.

A girl could get used to that.

Evan poked his head in then, and I reached up to try and smooth the absolute mess I knew my curls were in. “Lost cause, Spare,” he said, his eyes laughing as he watched my failed attempts at getting my hair flat. “You’re going to need four tons of conditioner and some pruning shears.”

I flipped him off before wrinkling my nose. I wanted to be angry that he’d called me spare again, but this time when he said it, it was almost like … a pet name.

“You’re probably right,” I said with a sigh. “Where are the others?”

He shifted positions so he could get his hands under Jasper. “On their way back with the medical team. Our ride is here.”

Helping best I could, we got Jasper out and waited just near the fire. Someone had kept it going through the night, which was good because it was still dark and freezing, and I felt like a damned zombie. My ribs hurt. My face hurt. My throat hurt when I breathed. My arm hurt, and my broken arm really fucking hurt.

But we had made it. I was alive, and help had arrived…

“Are we going to have to fly again?” I whispered, and Evan flashed me a perfect white-toothed smile.

“Don’t stress, Riley. What are the odds of two plane crashes in the same twenty-four hour period?”

Apparently pretty high when you were the target of rich bastards who were trying to take you down.

Before I could let the fear consume me, because it seemed I was now going to have PTSD when it came to flying, there was a scuffling sound through the trees ahead, and then there were people everywhere. Medics rushed straight for Jasper, relieving Evan of the weight, gently strapping him onto a gurney style device, with handles on all four corners so they could carry him out. Before they moved him though, blood and something in a clear bag was hooked up, and I could have cried as they rushed off, taking Jasper away from us.

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