Page 76 of Rebel

“Why, Beck?” he murmurs.

“Because you deserve that. You deserve the respect they never showed you. Because I don’t give a fuck about who came before me, but with me, it’s different, okay? No matter what happens between us, this is ours and nobody else’s. You’re not a challenge to conquer and brag about. You’re a person, a flawed but good man. You deserve better.”

He stares at me for a moment before leaning in. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

In answer, I press my lips to his. His hands come up and tangle in my hair as he deepens the kiss. It’s slow and loving and nothing like I expected from Chase, and when he pulls back, he smiles so innocently, my heart actually hurts for him.

“You know, you see me now, pretty girl, but I see you too. I know you’re struggling with something, fighting it every day and night. I see it in your eyes. I don’t know what hurt you’re tackling, but when and if you’re ever ready, I’ll listen and help in any way I can. You keep on saving us, Beck, keep on healing us, so let us do the same for you. If you’ll let us, we will never let you go, and you’ll never be alone again. This bond between us isn’t just built on you giving. Let us help you like you help us. You’re not alone anymore. One day, you’ll understand that, and we’ll be waiting. Like tonight, you saw me hurting, and no matter what you wanted, you put that first, selflessly and without thought, and you tried to help me, just like with Kolt and Trav. You are so busy protecting everyone else and looking after them, but I think you forget to look after yourself. No is a word you need to learn, pretty girl.” He kisses me again softly before snuggling in as I swallow hard.

How did he see all that?

He’s right. I’m so used to looking after everyone else, I’ve never even thought of myself. When my mom was sick, it was expected that I would be there, and I was. I never complained or wavered. I did the hard work, even when it meant giving up on my own dreams. When my sister left, I took over everything. With my friends, I rearranged plans or something simple to help them out. I can’t remember the last time I asked someone to help because when I do, I feel guilty, as if I’m putting them off or inconveniencing them by asking. It took me a long time to realize that not everyone puts the same effort into friendships or relationships or even family as I do. What I did for others without question is where some people draw the line. Some will always ask for more help than they are willing to give in return, and maybe Chase is right. Maybe I just need to learn to say no and put myself first.

Maybe I’m allowed to be selfish in my own life and put myself front and center without feeling guilty for wanting my own happiness and not accepting less.

I shouldn’t feel guilty about what I demand from life, what I want from it, or for following my dreams, but that’s a hard lesson to learn. I bend so often, maybe it’s time to break.

For one night, he puts aside his bad-boy image, and I put aside my revenge.

We are just two people who have been hurt and used, and we find solace in each other’s arms.

It just so happens to be the man I’m trying to destroy, my enemy, who sees me and understands me better than even my friends did.

THIRTY-FIVE

Iwake up before Chase. We are wrapped around each other, and surprisingly enough, it’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had, well, since I found out my sister died. I know Chase normally struggles to sleep as well, but I didn’t feel him wake last night. Wanting him to sleep while he can, I place a gentle kiss on his forehead and slide out of bed.

On my way to the door, something catches my attention, and I freeze. There’s a wall of Polaroids, and my sister is in one. She’s smiling brightly, looking healthy and happy. She was clearly just starting out, and even Chase is smiling. I glance back to look at him.

“I hope you had nothing to do with her death. I really do,” I say as I creep out the door, needing space to regroup.

I head to my room to shower, but I see my phone lighting up with a call, so I dash for it when I spy the unknown number.

“What do you have?” I whisper, eyeing the closed door.

“I did some digging. It seems Trav used to be called Travis Walker, and although the files were closed, I have a friend who poked at them. He was underage and very drunk. He was definitely the driver. They called it a terrible accident to cover it up, but he was drunk driving when they went over that cliff. He killed them and survived.”

Swallowing, I eye the door once more.

I’m confused, since it doesn’t line up with the Trav I know. People make mistakes, but he killed those people and is now living like this. How could he? Is he truly that cold?

“Thanks.” I hang up, ignoring my plans to shower as I stomp downstairs to find him. I need to know.

If Trav was capable of that, then he’s capable of killing my sister.

That means I slept with her murderer—a fact I knew might happen, but it makes me feel sick. I need to know. Fuck the long game, I can’t live another day without knowing. I find him doing yoga outside, so I grab a coffee and wait, and once he’s done, I head out and hand him a mug, knowing I need to find a delicate way of bringing this up so he doesn’t think I’ve been digging and snooping.

“Morning.” He smiles brightly at me as he sits cross-legged in the sunshine. Leaning in, he kisses me softly, and I smile before sipping my coffee. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, pretty well actually,” I admit.

“I’m surprised since you spent the night with Chase.” I expect jealousy, but he just winks.

“Not like that,” I protest. “Anyway . . .” I move on swiftly, keeping my promise to Chase. I won’t even tell his bandmates. No matter what, I’ll keep that promise even if he doesn’t deserve it in the end. “I realized something last night.”

“What’s that?” he asks, his head cocked.

“That I don’t really know much about your past.” I smile shyly, ducking my head. “We’ve fucked and, yeah, I don’t really know you.” I play the part well, and he falls for it.

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