Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)

I blinked at her, wondering if she’d meant that the way it came out. “You think Delta orchestrated my parents’ deaths?”

She stilled, some of the haziness in her eyes clearing. “You don’t think it? I mean, timing alone…”

“I was in the car though,” I reminded Eddy. “It’s the biggest flaw I can see in the theory.”

Eddy just shook her head, an angry sort of smile on her face. “You’re thinking like a chick raised in the ghetto. There’s a fuckload that can be done to ensure you survived and your parents didn’t.”

Eddy was the first person to put it so bluntly, and as the horror of her words registered, my stomach swirled with force. I lurched to my feet, ready to chuck up everything in my gut. “Be right back,” I murmured, stumbling off the patio and hurrying to a nearby bushy plant.

“Riles!” Eddy yelled, almost falling down the stairs as she followed me. “You can’t be out here—”

She was cut off then, and I lifted my head, my stomach heaving as I wondered what had happened to her. Stepping out from where I was partly hidden in the shadows, I saw her crumpled form on the ground. My first thought was that she’d passed out, but then a tall, broad shadow stepped out from the side of the house.

“Hello, successor of Delta,” he said.

I couldn’t see his face clearly, but it was not a voice I knew. My instincts told me to run, but I couldn’t leave Eddy here at his mercy. Who knew what he’d do to her to get to me?

“If you come with me now,” he said in a slow drawling accent, “I won’t kill your friend.”

Okay, that was apparently what he would do.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked, not moving an inch.

He shook his head. “I’m no one. Just a guy doing a job.”

Huntley goon. Had to be.

“Where are you taking me?” I was stalling for time because my guys would be back soon; I only had to keep Eddy and me alive until that happened.

He took a step closer, and as lights from the porch finally washed across his features, I recognized him. “You were filming us at the mall and race!” I accused.

He shrugged. “Had to make sure I had the right person. Delta hasn’t had a female heir before, it’s been quite the revelation.”

I opened my mouth but he cut me off... “Enough fucking talking,” he said irately. “You have two seconds to walk over here, or I’m going to stab your friend in the throat.”

I took a hesitant step closer, wondering how long I could drag this out for. When I was within a few feet of him, he surprised me by lunging forward and wrapping a hand around my unbroken wrist. Dylan had grabbed me this way fifty times during our defense training while he was drilling a response out of me. He said that repetition was the best way to make something instinctive. Looked like he was right. Instinctively I pushed into my would-be kidnapper, breaking his hold, and then using my palms and knees, struck as hard and fast repeatedly until he was thrown completely off.

I hadn’t forgotten the blade in my pocket, but right now I was focused on saving Eddy.

This guy was well trained though, and even though I’d taken him by surprise, I barely even got my hands under Eddy’s body before he was dragging me away and across the rough ground. I fought and struggled, making it as difficult as possible for him, and deciding it was time, reached into my pocket to pull the switchblade out. It flipped open, and I swung my free arm, trying to reach any part of him.

I lucked out when I scraped over the hand that was clamped across my biceps. He cursed and loosened his hold enough for me to flip myself around. Holding the blade in front of me I had an immediate flash back to the plane, to the man I’d fought there with a knife. I hadn’t done any training with this weapon yet, and I wished for my pretty gun. Why the fuck did I keep leaving it at Beck’s?

“They’re going to kill you,” I warned him, backing up a little as I waved the knife in front of me. “They’re already on their way back.”

I’d been so busy taunting him, that I hadn’t noticed just how close he was. Close enough to lunge forward and punch me right in the face. It hit with the sort of solid thud that bruised, if not fractured bone. I screamed, going down hard, black dots dancing across my vision as I fought against unconsciousness. If I passed out, I was dead. Or I’d wish I was dead when I woke up in the Huntley torture dungeon.

He loomed over me, and in my half dazed state I scrambled to find the knife that had been lost when I’d fallen. There was nothing around my hand, and I could have cried as darkness pressed in on either side of my eyes. Hands ran across me quickly, but I was so out of it, that it barely registered.

I was moving again then, my body bouncing along the hard ground, as I weakly tried to twist from his hold. “No! Help!” I cried, but it was nothing more than a weak noise.

More darkness pressed in, blocking the light completely. I figured that this was me losing my tiny grasp on consciousness, but then the pressure around my body eased, and I heard thuds and scuffling, followed by the sort of rumbly growl that I usually associated with Beck.

Because I was free, I managed to roll myself over and started to crawl back in what I hoped was the direction of the house. My head throbbed like it was being repeatedly smacked with a hammer.

My vision was tunnel, most of it still blurry, the pain wanting to pull me under. Hands landed on my back, and I immediately started to fight, spinning to kick and punch. Dylan had said I should use my legs, and I was going to do my very best.

“Butterfly,” a soft voice said, and the fight died. I slumped against him, and he lifted me into his arms. “Baby, hold on.”

I had no strength to hold on, but I sort of realized he hadn’t meant that in a literal sense. He was talking about not passing out on him.

“Eddy,” I croaked.

He brushed a hand across my brow, pushing back all the wayward hair. “Evan has her, she’s okay.”

Tears leaked out of the corner of my eyes, and I finally let myself rest heavily against him, all of my fight gone.

The next however long was mostly a blur of pain. I managed not to vomit in Beck’s car, and I counted that as a win.

“You managed not to get kidnapped as well,” Dylan reminded me. I must have mentioned the vomiting thing out loud. Dylan was driving while Beck held me in his lap. “Proud of you, Riles.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “Need my gun.”

Beck’s arms tightened around me, pulling me closer into his rigid muscles. He hadn’t relaxed once since I’d ended up in his arms, and the heat of his fury was burning me even through my clothes. I thought they would take me to the hospital, the Delta owned one, but we actually ended up at Beck’s house. In another room I’d never seen before.

It was basically set up like a very expensive emergency room. White and sterile, with beds and as much medical equipment as I was sure most hospitals had.

“What is this room for?” I asked, wincing when I realized that was a pretty stupid question. I couldn’t think straight with the pounding in my brain. What I meant to ask was why do you have a hospital in your house…

“Sometimes we get injured and we like to keep the details off public record,” Beck explained, keeping his voice low and soothing. “I also have some doctors that I use and they won’t step foot near a legit hospital. We’ve had to use this room a lot.”

“Much easier to protect you from Beck’s estate as well,” Dylan added. He was close by even though I couldn’t see him. Beck gently placed me on a reasonably comfortable hospital bed, and a warm blanket was draped over me. “Don’t fall asleep on me, Riles,” he said, adjusting the pillow under my head. “The doctor will be here in like two minutes.”

“We could just do it.” I heard Dylan argue. I’d closed my eyes at this point because the bright lights were hurting me. “Not like we haven’t patched each other up a million times.”

Beck disagreed. “I won’t risk her. We’ll just get an opinion, and then figure out what we want to do for treatment.”

“Still awake over there, Riley?” Dylan asked quickly.