Page 31 of Rebel

“Shit.” I chuckle. “Unlucky Macy. I bet she regrets it now.”

“Okay, Beck, your turn.” Kolt swallows his bite. “Why us? Why did you pick us to audition with? With your talent, you could have been signed for sure.”

I can’t tell them the truth, so I take a sip of beer to delay my answer. “I liked your songs,” I admit truthfully. “They always felt right to me, like they were speaking to me, so I figured why not?”

“Enough mushy shit,” Chase scoffs. “Trav, first sex dream about Beck.”

I gape. “What?”

Trav blushes and looks at me shyly. “First night after we met her.”

“You dog,” Chase howls.

“Chase, first time you jacked off thinking about Beck,” Kolton retorts, trying to embarrass him.

“Two hours after meeting her.” He smirks, leaning back.

“Wait, I was here then . . .” My mouth drops open.

“Sure were.” He toasts me with his beer.

The game goes on and on, and the questions get more and more personal until I can’t bite my tongue anymore. I need to know, and maybe this will give them a chance to prove me wrong.

“What happened to the girl before me?” I ask.

The table goes silent, and I look around, a slice half to my mouth. “Sorry, was that rude to ask?”

“No, no, you have a right to know,” Trav replies softly. Chase glares down at the table, and Kolton looks sad. “She had some problems, and in the end, they got the best of her. We tried to help, but we couldn’t. She, well, you probably heard. She killed herself.”

“I think it’s time for bed.” Chase stands. “Big day of rehearsal tomorrow.”

Nodding silently, I watch them clean up, and when I’m back in bed, I replay the words in my head.

She had some problems. We tried to help.

She killed herself.

God, hearing it so blatantly like that . . . Rubbing my chest, I close my eyes. I saw genuine pain in their gazes when Trav spoke, as well as regret and shame, but it was a reminder of what needs to be done.

After all, she’s dead because of them, and I’m the only one left who seems to give a fuck about what happened to her.

EIGHTEEN

Rehearsal today is quiet. Trav and Kolt are still thinking about Beck’s question. They think we should tell her everything, but I think doing so would only drive her away. She doesn’t need to know the dark past that haunts us—not because I like her, but because we need her.

Saying the atmosphere is dismal would be an understatement, and it’s clear she’s feeling it and is as grouchy as the others. I strum my guitar, working through the lyrics as they take a break.

My gaze catches on Beck as she leans into Kolton’s side while they practice the show, and my eyebrows rise. I’ve been noticing it a lot recently. Is it my place to tell her? He doesn’t seem overly uncomfortable, but I would hate for her to trigger him.

They might think I’m an asshole, but I truly care for my brothers. We’ve been to hell and back, and hopefully with Beck, we’ll go to heaven now.

I wait for Kolton and Trav to head out in search of snacks before talking to her, strumming as I work through the problem. It’s a new song, so when she approaches and sits cross-legged before me, I sing it out loud for her to hear.

“It’s good,” she says. “You should tweak that second line though. Instead of ‘bad to the bone,’ try ‘tired to the bone.’ It fits better.”

I try that, noticing she’s right. “Thanks.”

“No problem. So what’s up with everyone today?”

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