I had no idea why I asked that, but ever since the plane crash, I’d felt like I was missing something big about my family company.

Beck’s gaze finally met mine. “Delta controls sixty-five percent of the money in the world. We see all. We control all. We are all. I’ll let you figure out if that could all be legit on your own.”

They were egomaniacs. We see all … we control all… Come on.

Maybe that was the part all of them struggled with the most; there was only so much they truly could control. I wondered if that was what had happened to Oscar … Beck had implied it was because he wanted to get out. Maybe my brother hadn’t quite been able to stomach this life. One of cruelty and sabotage. Of trusting no one and always looking over your shoulder. Why then, was I not wanting to run screaming from them? Why did I fit when my brother, who had been born and raised into this life, could not handle the world of being a Delta successor?

What the fuck was wrong with me?

The helicopter ride smoothed out after the takeoff, and except for my initial panic, it did not cause me undue stress. Beck and I talked on and off for the rest of the flight. I learned he owned ten cars, six of which were dream cars of mine, and four others that I wouldn’t turn my nose up at. He had no siblings, but there had been a catch in his voice when he said that … which made me wonder if he was telling me everything.

“So your favorite food is steak and lobster?” I said, laughing a little. How typical of a rich boy.

He shot me a smirk. “Too predictable for you? Sounds better than grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

I swung my elbow into him, gently because it would have hurt me more than him. “My mom made it for me whenever I was sick, or sad, or tired,” I explained. “It was her way of cheering me up, and it … it’s more than just sandwich and soup.” I stopped talking because I was too choked up to say more. To know I’d never see her carrying a special tray with my favorites was beyond devastating.

Beck was quiet, and some of that restless energy he always carried with him seemed to ease. “I’m sorry about your parents, Butterfly.”

My hands clenched, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to break down. “I’m sorry too,” I managed to say. “It’s just so fucking hard. Some days I’m not sure I can keep living with the pain of losing them.”

He turned to me then, and it was such a sudden movement I almost fell off my seat. Until then, we’d remained side by side, his long body pressed along mine, but we hadn’t looked at each other. Instead staring across the helicopter.

Now, locked in the intensity of his gaze, I almost couldn’t breathe.

“You will keep living,” he told me seriously, bite in his words. “Because they would want you to. Because the pain will get easier. And because we … Dylan, Evan, Jasper, and me … we fucking need you to keep living. We’re five again.”

I blinked at him, my eyes no doubt wide and glassy from the tears I was trying desperately not to shed. “I promise,” I whispered. “I won’t ever give up. If that dude trying to kill me in the forest taught me anything, it’s that I’m not ready to die.”

Beck relaxed back in his seat, and we resumed our previous positions. We did not talk for the rest of the flight, but his long body remained pressed to my side, and I couldn’t stop the deep seated ache in my center to reach out and touch more of him. He’d let his guard down with me today, and it showed me the sort of man Beck could be. And I wanted to see more of it.

When we landed, I was helped out by a medic, and then I just kind of hovered around awkwardly while more doctors and security personnel crowded us. No one touched Beck, and he strode away toward Jasper when the second chopper landed.

“Ms. Deboise, we’re going to need you to come with us,” a female medic said. She wore a different uniform to the ones who had rescued us from the mountain. It was a dark olive green, with a red cross stitched over the front pocket.

“Uh,” I hesitated, unsure if this was one we trusted or not. I mean they … they trusted.

She must have thought I was confused or something, because a firm hand landed on my shoulder, and she started trying to direct me toward a nearby ambulance. My feet dragged as I wondered if I should be fighting her or not.

I mean, Beck had just taken off without a backward glance at me, so most probably he was over giving a shit, and was back to being an asshole. I might as well get checked and get some of the good pain killers.

When she got me to a nearby ambulance, another medic helped me inside, and forced me to lie back on one of the long beds. “A doctor will be right by,” the medic said, her expression cool. “Just relax. We’ll get you patched up and good as new.”

She didn’t like me, that much was obvious, and I wondered why that was—I’d never seen her before in my life. There wasn’t time to figure it out before she spun and disappeared out the double doors of the large white vehicle.

Before I could panic about being alone and vulnerable in the back of an ambulance, a familiar face entered my line of sight. Jasper, looking a lot worse for wear, was gently helped into the other bed next to me.

“Still alive, I see,” I joked, so happy to see him.

He shot me a slow grin, and it would have looked normal if not for the macabre splash of blood across his platinum blond hair, face and neck. I’d probably not noticed in the forest, because we were in some hectic situations, but Jasper was a mess. Lifting my hands, I squinted at the blood staining them as well.

We were all messes.

Unfamiliar faces followed Jasper’s, and then the ambulance started up. Just before the doors were about to close, a hand slipped between them, pulling them open again.

“We’re full…” a doctor began until she saw Dylan’s face. Her words trailed off, and she got out of the way to allow him to sit right at the head of our beds.

Whatever nerves had been assaulting me died off then, and I felt safe. Which was ironic considering Dylan could kill everyone in this vehicle with his bare hands without breaking a sweat.

“You okay, Riles?”

They’d taken to calling me Riles like Dante, and it made my heart ache a little.

“Just ready for some decent pain killers,” I said seriously.

“Fuck yes,” Jasper said weakly. “Give me all the shit. I want to be seeing fairies or someone is getting fired.”

I chuckled then. “I don’t think they work for you, Jasper. Their bosses might have something to say about you randomly firing their staff.”

Jasper’s laugh was weak and raspy. “So much to learn, new girl.”

Dylan was watching me with an odd expression, and I lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

“Your innocence is refreshing,” he said simply. “The dynamics are changing … you’re changing them.”

I still didn’t really understand what he meant by that, but I could tell he meant it as a good thing, so I smiled in return.

Our conversation was interrupted by a doctor reaching over to hook Jasper up to another IV. His first one was pretty much sucked dry up on the pole above his head. The woman turned to me then. “I’m going to start you on some fluids,” she said quickly. “All of you are dehydrated, and it will help us assess your injuries better.”

I nodded, not in any sort of mood to argue. Even though I really hated needles. Dylan helped me into a half sitting position, lifting me just enough that I could get the thick jacket off. Underneath was the bra and nothing else still, but I didn’t care. Caring required energy I just didn’t have.

Dylan’s gentle fingers pressed against my ribs again. I flinched, but the pain was dull, only really kicking in when I breathed too deeply.

“You’re going to be fine,” he told me, his dark eyes softer than I was sure I’d ever seen them. Everything about Dylan was dark, including his gorgeous skin, but his ultra-scary vibe, the one that had sent spikes of panic through my blood the first time I saw him, was no longer there. Not for me. Something had shifted for us in the forest; I trusted them now, which was possibly the stupidest thing I’d ever done in my life, but it didn’t make it any less true.

“I’d like to assess her before making that call, Mr. Grant,” the doctor tentatively interrupted. Clearly she wasn’t over the whole fear thing he inspired.

Dylan leveled her with a steady, calculating stare, and she swallowed hard, her eyes wide and pupils dilated. I could almost smell her fear. When he finally nodded, she swallowed again, her breathing audible even over the sound of the engine. Stepping closer, she quickly ran a hand along my side, pressing and probing, asking me what hurt. While she was evaluating me, another person hooked up my drip, and when that needle came into view, I focused on it.

“It’ll only hurt for a moment,” a medic said. “I’m very good at my job.”