Page 146 of Rebel

Right now, though, Beck is suffering, and I don’t know what to do to make it better. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk about it, and I know better than to push Beck when she’s feeling like this. She will just close down. No, we have to give her time and show her we’re here.

Like last night, she was almost feral when she used our bodies. We let her because we would give her anything she needs. I worry it’s shock or other emotions after she was attacked on stage, but deep down, I know it’s more than that. It’s something Beck Danvers feels she has to fight alone, which I hate.

She fights all our battles with us, proudly at our sides, but when she faces them herself, she stands alone, as if she expects no one to be there despite how much we have proven we will be. Instead, I give her little reminders that we are here and that whatever she is going through, she doesn’t have to go through it alone. I stay at her side and make sure she’s eating, drinking, and taking her meds. I don’t give her time to overthink whatever is happening. I reach for her all day, and although she accepts my touch, it feels like she is already gone.

That thought haunts me as we prepare for our first gig in this arena. We can hear the screaming fans as we wait in the wings to take to the stage, and she slips her hand into mine. My eyes cut to hers, and she smiles, but it seems sad.

“I love you, Kolton.” I blink as she leans up and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I need you to know that.” She rushes onto the stage, leaving me even more confused as a bad feeling consumes me.

I take the stage like normal, though, and she seems fine. She talks and laughs with the crowd, and it loosens me up enough to play.

We are just finishing up “Die, Loser,” when I see her glancing off into the wings, and something about it raises the hair on the back of my neck. She misses her cue as we go straight into the next song, and Chase and I share a look.

She rolls her lips as she glances out at the audience, her guitar falling to her back. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore,” she calls into the mic, and then she turns and runs off stage.

She turns, and for a moment, she looks at each of us. I see something in her eyes I can’t name before she turns and flees off stage.

I stand there, my heart freezing before it cracks and shatters into a million pieces.

Dropping my guitar, I rush after her.

After fighting through crew and staff with the guys at my back, we burst out into the air and cross the parking lot to the bus, only to find it empty.

She’s gone, and so is her stuff.

She left like she was never here, not even leaving a trace of her, bar a tape on the bed.

I walk over in a daze, the fans’ screams echoing around even out here, and see the label across the top.

For my loves, forgive me.

Trav

I don’t know how long we search for Beck, but it’s obvious she’s just . . . gone. Just as she randomly appeared in our lives, she left the same way. Panic pounds through me as my heart breaks, the pain causing each breath to feel like I’m being stabbed in the chest.

My panic overrides everything else, even over Rachel’s anger as she has to announce the show is canceled mid-concert without giving an explanation. The fans are in an uproar, screaming for us outside of the arena, but I don’t care.

Beck is all I care about.

What happened?

Why did she run?

Was it something we did, or was it something else?

Hours later, when it’s evident she’s not just hiding in the arena somewhere, and hundreds of ignored phone calls and texts later, I stare down at the tape, running my fingers across it.

“Why did she leave?” I lift my head to see Chase pacing. He’s gone past hurt, and now, he’s pissed, but even over his anger, I still see heartbreak in his eyes. “Why didn’t she speak to us? She just fucking left.” He smashes his fist into the wall, wincing as he splits his knuckles open, but he seems to relish the pain. “Like we were nothing, like she didn’t fucking care, like it was easy.”

“You’re mad,” I comment dryly. “I get that, but I’m worried, Chase. This isn’t like Beck.”

“Isn’t it?” he yells, interrupting me. “She appeared in our lives the same way, seeking her revenge. It’s totally her style.”

“Not anymore!” I yell, and he shrinks under my fury. “You’re hurting, but don’t ever talk about Beck like that. You know better. She stayed for us even after everything. She’s not the type to run away when things get hard. She stands up and fights, even if it hurts. Something is going on, something bigger than us, and we need to figure out what before we lose her for good.”

“What if we already have?” Kolton comments, and his voice is numb. When he looks up at us from where he’s sitting on the bunk, I notice his eyes are dead. “What if we’ve lost her like we lost her sister?”

“Do not ever fucking say that!” I yell, trying to breathe through my fear. “She wouldn’t do that to us.” I shake my head as I slump. “She wouldn’t. She knows the effect that would have. She wouldn’t do that. She loves us.”

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