Page 153 of Rebel

Ben would have gotten away with it, and I would have died like my sister, at his hands, fighting until the bitter end. She was alone when she died, and that breaks me, knowing no one came for her.

It fucking hurts.

It’s unfair, and I hate it.

I should have been there, she wouldn’t have been alone, but she will never be again. I make that promise to myself. I will speak of her every day. I will paint this world with her words and face so they can never forget the woman they failed.

“This is a slam dunk case. His DNA is under your nails, and you have defensive wounds, not to mention the recording. They are raiding his house right now, and I understand they found lots of pictures of you and your sister, ones taken by a stalker. There are also multiple unregistered email and social media accounts connected to her and you. He’s going away for a very long time. I know that doesn’t help right now, but I hope it will in the future. You saved yourself, Beck. You stopped this from happening to someone else.”

“Too late,” I whisper, “because it already happened to Willa.”

He nods sadly. “I know. I’m sorry.” He walks away, and I watch him go before briefly glancing at the bed. The memory of how weak I felt in that moment fills me, along with panic, and I snuggle into my guys.

“Take me home,” I demand.

“Rachel—”

“Tomorrow. Tonight, just take me home, hold me, and never let me go. Tonight, please just love me.”

“With everything in us,” Trav murmurs, kissing my head gently.

They hold me all night in the bus. We don’t speak.

They love me as I splinter apart, sobbing despite my bruised throat and aching face. I sob for what I lost.

I sob for what could have been.

I sob for the unfairness of it all.

He stole her life, her future, all because of his own sick jealousy and obsession. My sister was a person, not a name or a headline. She was a person who was struggling and surrounded by sharks. She needed help, and I wasn’t there.

I’d give it all up to have her back, but I can’t change the past, and that hurts. It hurts so much I can’t breathe. I was so angry at her when I thought she killed herself, so angry at her selfishness. I cursed her name more than once. I hated her for it when all along, she fought to come back. Guilt swallows me whole, and they hold me through it, knowing they can’t take it away.

They cry with me as the storm gives way to early morning sunshine.

My eyes are raw and red, my face is puffy, and my heart aches as I look at the dawn brightening the bus.

It’s a new day.

I refuse to waste it.

Not now.

Not ever.

This isn’t over yet.

SEVENTY-ONE

Isit tall in the chair in the office. Michael is across from us, his eyes tight and wounded. He’s already apologized a million times. My left hand clutches Kolton’s, my right holds Trav’s, and Chase sits next to Trav. We are presenting a united front.

And waiting.

I wasted no time. Despite their protests, I got up and dressed. I didn’t disguise my face or the bruise circling my neck. I displayed them—proof of the battle I fought and survived. I know they will look stark in the camera. Good. Let them be horrified, shocked, and appalled. Let them look at themselves in the mirror as the truth is revealed.

Today is the day the truth comes out, and now all we can do is wait.

The door opens moments later. I can hear her heavy breathing as she walks in and sits. The guys are surprised she came, but I’m not. Rachel thinks she can control everything, win everything. She has no idea who she went against.

---