Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)

“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.

“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…