Page 22 of Rebel

Grinding his teeth, he glances away. “Fine, I’ll be nicer,” he replies reluctantly.

Kolton sighs. “Chase.”

We wait for him to speak again, but something else fills the air, coming from the open door to the warehouse. We all turn as the soft music reaches us. Frowning, I move closer, staying quiet so I don’t spook her. I hide behind the door and peek around to see Beck. She’s sitting on a chair, strumming Chase’s old guitar, and as I watch, she starts to sing.

It's not one of ours.

It’s not a song I’ve ever heard before.

The melody is fast but soft, and the lyrics reach into my chest and tear my heart out. I can’t look away. I can’t even speak.

“Holy fuck,” Kolton blurts.

Beck’s head darts up, her eyes widening as she stands before carefully putting the guitar down. “Sorry, I thought you guys were gone. Look, Chase, I’m sorry, okay? I’m trying.”

“I know,” he says, watching her. “What were you singing?”

Her eyes widen, and her cheeks heat. “Oh, uh, nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing. What was it?” he asks, his arms crossed.

Sighing, she looks to me for help, but I stay silent. “Just something I wrote a while ago. I know it’s not very good. I was just trying to fill the time?—”

“Not very good?” Chase frowns. “Pretty girl, that was fucking excellent.”

“Oh, um, thanks. Anyway, what should we practice next?” She tries to change the subject, moving to the mic once more. “I think I can get the hang of?—”

“Beck,” I say, moving closer. “You wrote that?”

“I mean, yeah, a while ago.” She shrugs.

“You write your own songs?” Kolton grins. “Epic!”

“No, no, just some lyrics, nothing like you guys do. I’m just a singer, nothing else.” She looks away.

“There is no such thing as just a singer,” Chase mumbles, “and they weren’t just lyrics. That was a song, and an amazing one at that. What else have you written?”

“Can we just practice please?” she begs.

“Why? Why don’t you want us to know your songs?” I ask, truly confused.

“I don’t write anymore, okay? I can’t. Can we leave it at that?” We all see the panic in her eyes, and I nod.

“Sure, let’s practice.” I let it go for now because Chase is right. She’s hiding something, and I’m betting my ass that something is the reason why she doesn’t write her own songs anymore.

Which is a fucking tragedy because they deserve to be heard.

She could go solo with lyrics like that.

Fuck.

Are we going to lose Beck Danvers?

Why does the thought hurt my heart?

FOURTEEN

When Chase suggests he needs a drink after practice, I’m on board. I need to drink away the look in their eyes when they heard me sing. Nobody has ever heard my lyrics before. I’m such an idiot. Did they figure out what they were about?

---