I’d never been on a commercial flight, but I had seen movies before, so I leaned forward best I could with the harness belt. It was doing a really good job at holding me in place, and I hoped that harness trumped brace position.
Dylan never took his hands off the plane, fighting to save us until the very end. Panic almost had me passing out when we first clipped the top of the trees, and everything after that was a blur of screaming and pain and fear. We crashed for what felt like forever, thrown around like clothes in a washing machine on the fastest cycle.
Eventually I stopped screaming because my breath was completely knocked out of me, and everything went fuzzy when my head slammed hard against my chair.
12
Darkness must have stolen me for some time, until I eventually woke to frantic hands running over me. With a groan, I tried to wave them away, only to have shooting pains in my arms, tearing more cries from my mouth. They were weaker this time, and for a moment, I forgot what had happened.
Until… “Butterfly, don’t make me strip you down again and check for injuries. You need to open those gorgeous blue eyes and tell me where you’re hurt.”
Whether it was the unexpected of Beck giving me a compliment or whether it was the sudden realization that I’d just been in a plane crash, I gasped and forced my eyes open.
Beck was crouched before me, holding me up from where he’d clearly undone my seatbelt.
“We’re alive?” I whispered, almost unable to believe it.
Beck shrugged. “Most of us.”
I gasped again. “Dylan? Jasper and Evan?”
“Dylan is fine, that bastard is too tough to die.”
Apparently so was Beck. Outside of what looked like a small cut on his temple, I couldn’t see another injury on him.
“Jasper’s hurt,” he said, voice tight. “We don’t know how badly right now; Dylan is patching him up.”
“And Evan,” I whispered. He’d said most of us were alive, which meant someone had to be dead.
“He’s good,” Beck replied, and my heart slowed down.
That only left one other than the pilot though. Looked like the flight attendant hadn’t made it, and that had my stomach lurching as I tried to pull myself up. Beck stayed with me, his strong hands lifting me with ease.
My stomach screamed at me when I straightened, as did my broken arm, and the side of my head. “I think I’m okay,” I whispered, testing out my limbs. “Just bruised.”
Beck touched a finger to the side of my face, pulling it away to show me the fresh red of my blood. “Dylan will have to patch you up as well,” he said abruptly. His face cold again. “Come on.”
He turned and started to push his way through the door of the cockpit. I followed slowly, still working out my aching body. On the other side it was a mess: chairs had been ripped out on impact as the cabin was torn up, and there was shit everywhere. I understood why Jasper had been injured; his chair was basically ripped in half, that side having taken most of the impact.
Beck was standing over his friends … his brothers.
“How bad is it?” I heard him ask Dylan.
He got a grim stare. “He has broken ribs, a large gash on his thigh, and any number of internal injuries I can’t assess with the equipment I have.”
Jasper let out a weak laugh, and I choked in some air at the relief he was at least conscious. “I’m fine, assholes. You know nothing gets me down. Besides, Dylan has stitched my thigh, taped my ribs, and acted like a pretentious dick. He’s practically a doctor.”
He coughed, and it sounded raspier than I would have liked.
Hobbling forward, I peered around Beck, and met Jasper’s stare. “Spare, you made it,” he said, sounding almost cheerful. “I was afraid you’d die on us. Then what would Deboise do … they’d be fresh out of heirs.”
I wanted to kick him in the balls, but the dude already looked like he’s been kicked by a bull, so I settled for smiling sweetly. “Maybe it’ll be Eddy joining me in the old-white-man club instead, you know, if you don’t make it.”
Dylan’s lips twitched, and he looked up from where he was fussing with Jasper’s leg. Our gazes met, and some of my ire died off at the worry I saw there. Shivering, I rubbed at my arms, wondering why it was so freezing in here. Evan popped his head in from somewhere near the back of the plane then, snow coating his hair. Where the hell had we landed?
Evan hurried along to us, his walk an uneven gate like he’d been hurt in the crash as well, but was managing. “The forest is huge,” he said, talking to his friends. “I went pretty far and didn’t see any signs of civilized life. Anyone work out where we are?”
“Canada,” Dylan and Beck said at the same time.
