Page 138 of Rebel

“Chase, is everything okay?” I ask, moving closer, seeing the anger and hate in his expression.

The man’s eyes flare as he looks me over. “Chase, get rid of this . . . this groupie while we speak. You can entertain later.”

My eyes widen as I gawk, but Chase steps before me, and when he speaks, his voice is dark. “Don’t ever speak to or about Beck like that again,” he grits out. “She is our lead singer, you old bastard. Now what the hell do you want? Just say it and get out, and we can return to ignoring each other while I just send you the money you so desperately need to keep that shitty business and your lives afloat.”

My gaze swings to him in shock. He said his mom and dad weren’t nice, but I guess I didn’t understand the depth of what he meant. I’ve never heard him so angry before. Protectiveness roars through my veins as I take his hand and look straight at his father, daring him to say something.

“Typical,” he mutters. “We came to watch you play, of course, and oh, we’re also here to talk about a new venture we thought?—”

“Fine, whatever, take the money and go. We all know you didn’t come here to see me, just to take my cash. How much? I’ll send it to your account,” he mutters in disgust, but I hear the hurt in his voice.

“No.” I cross my arms, stepping before him. “You are here to use your son and the money he’s earned. You didn’t even ask if he’s okay or how he’s doing with his addiction. You just want to use him.” I turn to Chase. “If you want to give them money, then go ahead, it’s yours, but don’t do it just because they are making you. You shouldn’t have to pay for their love.”

He watches me carefully. “It’s just easier. They are my parents.”

“Parents are people who love you, who support you, who stand at your side. They aren’t parents, they are parasites, and you know it,” I murmur.

“Parasites? Who do you think you are?” The man hurries over with his hand raised, and before he can slap me, Chase catches his hand and shoves him away.

“I warned you,” he hisses, stepping in front of me. “She’s right, get out. You only come to see me when you need something. I’m so tired of trying to buy your love. Just get out and don’t come back.”

“Chase.” His mother frowns. “Of course we love you.”

He laughs humorlessly. “We both know that’s a lie, Mother. You love the life I provide for you. Well, it’s over. Your free ride is gone. You came here and not only insulted my girlfriend, but thought I was stupid enough to believe you wanted to see me play. You have never come to watch me play. When I was struggling and in and out of rehab, you weren’t there—my bandmates were, not you. They are my family.” Kolton and Trav move closer to Chase, offering him strength. “So get out and don’t come back.”

We watch them storm away, and when I turn to Chase, he smiles. “That felt really fucking good.” He grabs me suddenly, kissing me deeply. “My fucking pretty girl, I never would have dared to do that before. You make me brave. Your love makes me realize I deserve more.”

“You do.” I cup his face, kissing him hard. “Now let’s go out there and show them the incredible son they rejected. You don’t need them. You have us.”

Tonight was wild. The set was the best we have ever performed. Chase was on fire, as if he were showing every single person, including his parents, who doubted him just who he is. The crowd noticed it, eating up every scrap of attention, and we ride the high as we wave and bow to the screaming bodies packed so tightly together, I can’t even make out faces.

I’m following Kolt off stage when something catches the light, flying through the air. We’ve had bras, panties, flowers, and empty plastic cups thrown on stage, but this thing catches the light—a broken bottle. My eyes widen, but I can’t duck in time, and the impact knocks me into Kolton.

Sharp, sudden pain blooms over my face as I cup my eye, feeling something warm there. Chase and Trav instantly step in front of me, shouting, while Kolton guides me off the stage.

“Let me see,” he demands. “Beck.” His voice is pure panic.

Pulling my hand away, I wince. I can see, but it hurts all around my eye. Swearing, Kolton grabs a cloth from a trembling crew member as Trav shouts for an ambulance.

Kolton gently presses it to my eye as I wince. “Hold it there, baby.”

“I don’t need an ambulance. Someone can drive me. I’m fine,” I mutter.

“They almost took out your fucking eye,” Chase snarls. “I’m going out there to find who?—”

I grab his hand, wincing at the sudden movement. “Please, stay with me,” I whine.

He softens like I knew he would. “Of course, beautiful, I’m here.”

“What happened?” Rachel asks as she hurries over.

“Someone threw a bottle,” I mutter.

“Fuck!” she exclaims. “Get her to the car now. She needs to see a doctor. If any glass got in her eye, she could lose it.”

I start to panic as Rachel barks orders into her phone, but Kolton takes my arm after I refuse to let him pick me up and helps me toward the rear exit. I can feel the guys’ worry, so I try not to wince, but each step sends agony radiating through my face.

Lose my eye? Fuck, what if I do?

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