“Sorry, Spare,” he teased. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.” The way he said it implied that I was only scared because I was a pathetic little girl, and my blood boiled with fury.
“Don’t be a dick, Evan,” Jasper replied for me then coughed a wet sound. “Get me out of here, I need stitches.”
Shoving Evan aside, I scrambled out of the tree trunk to make room for Jasper to get out. A hand appeared in front of my face, and I took it before even noticing who it was attached to.
“Thanks,” I murmured to Beck after he pulled me to my feet. He didn’t immediately release my hand, and I frowned. “What?”
My voice was still hoarse, my throat and side ached, and I was in no position to deal with Beck right now. He scowled down at me, doing his infuriating well-placed-shadow thing that only seemed to deepen his frown. “Are you okay, Butterfly?” His eyes trailed all over me—checking for injuries? I’d zipped my borrowed coat right up to the chin and pulled the hood up, so he wouldn’t be able to see the bruising that was sure to be showing on my throat. Neither could he see the horrible stabbing pain in my ribs, so I just gave him a tight smile and nod.
“Yep, totally fine,” I lied, wishing I could talk without rasping. Tugging my hand out of his grip, I took a couple of steps away and wrapped my arms around myself, watching as Dylan peeled my soaked tank top from Jasper’s wound and inspected the bloody hole.
“Riley,” Beck snapped, jerking my attention back to him. He stared at me with an intensity that made me shiver and tighten my arms around myself.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, dodging his stare and taking another step away from him.
He continued staring, but it was Evan—of all people—who nailed why I acted so cagey.
“She’s in shock, Beck. Leave her be.”
The gorgeous, scary bastard nodded slowly. How had it not occurred to him I might be in shock? We’d just been in a plane crash, he’d shot someone, Dylan had killed two men with his bare hands, I’d almost died, I’d stabbed someone, then Jasper had—
My stomach roiled again and I hurried a few yards away to retch into the bushes again. I don’t think I would ever forget the sound of Jasper’s knife cutting through my attacker’s throat. That wet, gurgling, tearing sound...
Gentle hands gathered my hair up and held it back from my face while I heaved what seemed to be pure stomach acid. I didn’t even remember where my hair-tie had gone, but I was grateful nonetheless.
“You throw up a lot,” Beck murmured when I was done. He was sitting in the dirt beside me, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back while I shivered and sobbed. Vomiting always made me cry. Or maybe that was a result of all the killing I’d just seen?
“Shut up,” I whispered back. It was half demand, half plea. I knew he was teasing, but it just wasn’t the time.
“What happened to your throat, Riley?”
I shook my head, not wanting to relive my almost-death. Beck, for once, took my feelings into consideration and didn’t push me. We didn’t speak for a while. I just sat there with my head on my knees, and Beck continued rubbing my back. I was sick and twisted, the worst kind of broken, but fuck if I never wanted him to stop.
Finally Dylan announced he was done. Where he had found a needle and thread to sew up Jasper’s wound, I had no idea. But Jasper was looking vaguely better, probably thanks to the painkillers Evan had given him.
“Come on,” Beck said softly, standing up and holding out his hand to me again. “We need to get away from this area.”
I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet, and didn’t protest when he started walking without releasing me. “Do you think there are more of them?” I asked, eyeing every shadow with fear and suspicion. “What will happen to all the bodies?”
I didn’t want the guys to end up in jail for defending us, but they had killed a lot of people here today.
“No, we got them all,” he replied with total confidence. “And either they’ll be cleaned up by the ones who sent them, or the wolves will get them...”
My step faltered, and it was only Beck’s grip on my hand that kept me from falling. “Wolves?” I squeaked. As if everything wasn’t bad enough, now we had wolves to deal with?
“It’s not as bad as it seems,” Dylan offered, falling into step beside me. “They’re much more likely to take an easy meal than one that fights back.” To Beck, he nodded ahead of us. “There’s no town within sight, but if we continue uphill we can probably get enough cell reception to raise an S.O.S. signal.”
I shook my head in confusion, even though he wasn’t speaking to me. “How do you know that? Maybe there’s a town right over that hill.” I pointed at the steep incline ahead of us and grasped at hope.
“Nope,” Dylan disagreed. “I just climbed a tree to check.”
I blinked at him. “You climbed a tree. Of course you did.” I dropped the subject and rubbed my eyes with my free hand. My whole body hurt, the burning in my throat felt like it was getting worse, my head was pounding and I was so cold my skin hurt. If Dylan said there was no town nearby, I was just going to believe him.
“Guys,” Evan called out. “We need to make camp soon. Jasper can’t go much farther.”
He’d been helping Jasper walk but now seemed to be pretty much carrying his friend’s unconscious form. Dylan and Beck exchanged a long look, then Beck nodded.
“We’ll make camp here. Dylan can continue on until he gets service for a distress call.” Beck’s orders were final, and no one questioned him. Not even me, for once.
Extracting my hand from his tight grip, I went to help Evan with Jasper. I wasn’t as strong as the boys, but I wasn’t useless. So many near death experiences in quick succession were reinforcing my desire to live, and I knew that meant I needed to be useful. These boys had no room in their world for dead weight.
“I’m fine, Riley,” Jasper mumbled in a sleepy, pain-addled voice as I propped my shoulder under his other arm and took some weight from Evan. “Don’t worry about me, you’ve been through enough.”
“What does he mean by that?” Evan asked, keeping his voice pitched low and quiet while I helped him prop Jasper against a tree. Beck was some distance away, looking like he was building a fire, but I still glanced nervously over at him before replying.
“Doesn’t matter,” I whispered, deciding to evade rather than outright lie. “We’re all still alive, right?” I met Evan’s gaze over Jasper’s head.
“For now,” Evan muttered. “If you’re hurt, you need to tell Beck. We don’t keep secrets from each other. Not when it concerns our well-being.”
I gave a bitter, raspy laugh. “All Catherine has done since the day I arrived here is keep secrets.”
Evan shook his head, like I was misunderstanding him. “Not Delta, Riley. Us. The heirs.”
It was the first time he’d called me anything other than “spare” and it was enough to shut me up. The four of them had an intense bond, but it was only in that moment that I recognized it as something totally independent of Militant Delta Finances.
A soul deep shudder chased through me as I glanced over at Beck. His broad back was to us as he crouched over his pile of tinder, and I wondered for the thousandth time what the fuck I’d gotten myself into. These four were closer than blood, but they were killers. Brutal, cold blooded killers. The world they ran in was dark, so dark that this wasn’t even their first plane crash. So, when faced with the prospect of being one of them, why wasn’t I running for the hills? Why did a thrill of excitement chase through me and warm my ice cold veins?
Jasper groaned in pain then, breaking the weird trance that I’d fallen into.
“I’m fine,” I insisted again, trying my best to talk clearly through the pain in my throat. Whilst evading Evan’s knowing stare. Dylan reappeared from wherever he’d gone and tossed a bag each to Evan and me. I hadn’t even noticed that they’d collected up the supplies from our previous camp, until now. In my defense, there was a lot going on in my head.
“Hop up, Riley,” Dylan told me, nudging my knee with his hand. “Evan, let’s put Jasper beside the fire, he needs warmth.”
I stood aside, feeling a bit like a spare wheel while they got Jasper situated and comfortable near the fire Beck had managed to get going.
“Butterfly,” Beck said softly, holding out a hand to me. Again. Was this some sort of weird symbolism? “Come here.” He held a warm coat in his hand, and when I moved closer to him, he gently unzipped the one I was wearing. “You have blood all over this one,” he explained as he pushed it open then paused. Numbness was overtaking my brain, and it took me way too long to understand his sharp intake of breath, rumbling chest, and intense perusal.
“Oh.” I looked down at my black bra. “I used my shirt for Jasper’s... cut thing.” I waved a hand, failing to find the right word for his injury. I was done pretending to be a doctor for one lifetime. But it wasn’t my bra—or the breasts within it—that held Beck’s stare. His thumb trailed over the rapidly darkening patch on my ribs where I’d caught a boot from my attacker.
“What the fuck is this?” Beck demanded in a low, deadly voice. His fingers then trailed up over my skin, sending a fiery path along my body before he brushed across my neck. “And this?”
I just shrugged, pulling my blood stained coat the rest of the way off and exchanging it for the clean one Beck held. “One of those... people... found me and Jasper,” I murmured, keeping my gaze down to avoid Beck’s. My fingers fumbled with the thick buttons of the coat, too cold to function properly. I just knew I needed to cover those injuries, because Beck didn’t appear to be doing anything except silently losing his shit.
“Dylan,” he said, that word a snap of sound.