Page 155 of Rebel

Just like she will always be.

They say the truth sets you free, and in a way, it does, but I don’t soar free like she did right now. I’m stuck on Earth until the day I get my wings and meet her in the stars.

I can’t wait for that day, but until then, I will live and love so deeply, she would be proud.

I will make both of our dreams come true.

For her.

SEVENTY-TWO

Beck wanted to play the very next show, but the truth is, she needed time to rest, whether she knew it or not, so we flew home for two weeks to allow her voice to heal and give her time to deal with what happened. She can’t repress it, and I don’t want her to. The label is letting us do whatever we want since they failed when it came to this band. The fans are understanding—well, most are—and the news has been filled with Beck’s interview and memorials for her sister.

The love for her is incredible, but it’s a lot, and Beck spends most of her time offline and without the TV, writing songs with Chase or sleeping. It’s worrying how much she sleeps, though, so one day, I call Reign for some advice. Her bruises are fading, but I know there are others that are deeper. I have spent my life with my own trauma, and I don’t want that for Beck.

I want her to be able to heal. After everything she has been through, she deserves to be happy.

“Hey, Trav, where’s hot stuff? Is she okay?” Reign answers immediately. Her and Beck speak almost daily, and I’m glad for it. Reign, along with Fallon, have become Beck’s good friends, and I’m so happy she has other people to talk to.

“She’s swimming with Chase right now.” I watch her through the window before turning away. “I need your help.”

“Sure, who are we burying?”

“Why is it always murder with you people?” I mutter.

“Do I need my gun or knife?” I hear Dal call, and Reign giggles.

Smiling, I shake my head. “No, Beck is . . . She’s struggling, not that she would tell anyone. She doesn’t know how to ask for help, but I want to give it to her. I just don’t know how. I know you are open about talking to a therapist, and I wondered if it would work for Beck.”

“It could,” Reign answers. “It’s worth a shot. Honestly, talking really helps. I’ll give you their number, but let her decide, Trav. It only works if she’s ready to talk about it. If not, try talking to her yourself. Sometimes all you need is to be heard. She’s been through a lot, so give her time and just be there for her.”

“When did you get so smart?” I mutter.

“I was always smart. People just didn’t want to see it.” She laughs. “I have to go. Dal and I are playing.”

“I don’t even want to know.” I hang up and glance at the number she sends me, debating what to do.

It’s true Beck’s struggling, but would talking help? I honestly don’t know, but I know she can’t bottle this up.

One thing I have noticed is Beck’s new aversion to hoodies. I handed her my hoodie one night when she said she was cold, and she went so pale, I swear she almost fainted. I don’t know what happened, and I won’t pull it from her. Instead, we quietly got rid of every hoodie we could find in the house and bus so she never feels that again.

Hoodies are overrated anyway.

But everything can’t be solved that way.

She strolls in as if my thoughts called her. She’s smiling brightly, her eye and throat healed, wearing nothing but a black string bikini, and my cock stands at attention. Desire fills me whenever I’m with her. We’ve been connecting a lot, since it seems to help her, and I’d let her use me in whatever way she wants as long as she’s happy, but right now, I want to throw her over the counter just as much as I want her smile to be full.

“We need to talk,” I blurt out, and her eyebrows rise.

“I didn’t put the dye in your shampoo. That was Chase,” she calls without missing a beat as she heads my way and melts into my arms. I wrap mine around her, holding her close. It’s all I can do. I nearly lost her, and sometimes, I wake up, unable to breathe with the idea that I have.

Maybe we are all healing.

She pulls back, and I cup her cheek before sliding my hand around her neck. She flinches, and I quickly pull away, but she tugs my hand back and leans into my touch with a soft smile. “So, what’s up, baby?”

I stare at her for a moment, unable to think or speak. She’s so beautiful.

“Trav?” She grins wider as I shake my head.