Page 82 of Rebel

“Just did.” I grin. “I don’t suppose you have any wet wipes on you.”

They ignore me as they cuff me, and I’m led to a step and pushed down. A cop remains at my side as they clear the area and begin to take statements and confiscate phones. I watch her be wheeled out and grin in victory, but I only relax when Chase and Trav jog into the reception area. They push past cops and cameras and run straight to Kolton, who still stands alone in the midst of the chaos. They hold him tightly, their gazes finding mine and widening as I’m lifted to my feet.

When we pass them, I nod. “Get him home and don’t leave him, okay?”

“Beck, Jesus.” Trav stares at me.

“Don’t worry about me.” I grin, and then I let the cops lead me to the car outside.

I hold my head high, even as flashes from cameras blind me.

I guess I fucked up my plan for revenge, but as we drive to the station, I can’t seem to care.

My knuckles hurt like a son of a bitch.

They ache more the longer it takes for them to process me, and when I’m finally led to a desk, I can’t believe my eyes. They read the charges and my information, but the cop, now blushing, slides a poster across.

It’s one of the guys and me. “Can you sign it?” he murmurs.

Chuckling, I grab the pen, and with my wrists still cuffed, I scribble on the poster. Winking, I slide it back over. “Better keep that. It might be the only one after this.”

They lead me away, and I’m put in a cell, but they are nice about it. They keep apologizing and asking why I did it, but I keep it to myself. Kolton’s past is his own. I’ll take the consequences. I made the choice, and I don’t regret it.

She deserved that and so much more. She’s just lucky we were in public or she would have left in a body bag instead of an ambulance.

I know the guys will be worried. I messed up their plans as well, but I only care if Kolton is okay.

Fuck, I hope he’s okay.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Iignore my phone as it rings again and focus on Kolton. He hasn’t spoken, and he’s huddled on the sofa with a vodka in his hands thanks to Chase. “Buddy, we need to know what happened,” Chase pleads. “Are you okay? We need to help Beck. Please.”

Her name seems to snap him out of it, and he blinks. “Beck.”

“Yeah, Beck.” Chase nods, scooting closer, but his voice is soft. We both know something is wrong with him. He looks so fragile and lost.

Whatever happened, it was really fucking bad, and Beck looked angrier than I’d ever seen her.

I would describe her as feral, standing in handcuffs and coated in blood.

Worry is all I know for him and for her. I have no idea what happened, only what we heard, and it can’t be right. Beck would not just attack a woman for no reason, nor would Kolt be catatonic because of that and let his girl be led away.

Something happened.

She told us to look after him.

“Kolton,” I murmur softly. “Beck is in trouble, please.”

She could face time inside, and she will lose everything . . . and so will we.

We will lose her.

No, we can fix this, we have to, but we have to know what transpired to make that happen.

“She was protecting me,” he whispers, downing the vodka and wincing as it hits, but it seems to shake him from his stupor. “My sister . . . My sister found us and wouldn’t let us go. Beck realized who she was. She said some fucked-up stuff. Beck was protecting me.” He lifts his eyes to mine. “And I just stood there. I did nothing to help her.”

Oh fuck, now it makes sense, and pride for my girl fills me.

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