Page 72 of Knot Your Rebel

I swallow hard. “Tell you what?”

“Tell me what I walked into earlier. Tell me, what pain was so bad, what memory hit so hard, that you felt you had to take it away by making cuts in this creamy smooth skin?”

My gaze rakes over his face, the sincerity of the question, of his concern blazing in those topaz orbs before he pulls me in close, smooshing me against his body.

His lips skim my forehead, leaving behind a soft kiss. “You can talk to me. Please, just talk to me. Let me in, even if it’s hard.” There’s a begging lilt to his voice like he’s desperate for me to just let him in.

I clear my throat, preparing to lay it all out for him. “You sure you really want to know? Because there’s no going back once I tell you.”

“I want to know everything there is to know about you, Rebel.”

I sigh. “You remember me telling you about Drake and how he left to go play pro, right?”

“Yeah…” He pauses, politely waiting for me to continue.

“A few weeks after he moved out, my foster mother moved her new boyfriend in with us. I know for a fact that’s not supposed to happen in foster situations, but like most people, she was only in it for the money. Not that she even got much…”

I can’t make eye contact with him over the next part. “He…” I choke up as memories consume me. Bile creeps up my throat at the thought of telling him. He’ll be the first person I’ve ever told about those three years in that house.

I take a deep breath before I speak. “Every night, he’d sneak into my room. He’d tell me how I was worthless. How I didn’t deserve the kindness my foster mother had shown me by taking me in. How I was just a worthless omega hole for him to use. He took everything from me when he tried to break me. In fact, he almost won that battle. He almost did break me. I can’t tell you how many times I…” A tear slides down my cheek. “How many times I looked at that blade and thought that maybe ending it would be easier than living to tell about it. I remember praying that night didn’t fall some days. I wanted the light to stay out because he never came to me in the light of day. It was only at night. He was a monster. Well, my first monster.”

His arms wrap around me tighter as if he knows I’m on the verge of breaking down again. He’s holding me up, being my stronghold as I face the memories I’ve fought so hard to lock away after all these years.

“I need his name.” I shake my head. I haven’t used his name in years. Giving him a name means that it was real. He growls. “A name, Rebel.” His voice is gruff and angry.

Knowing he won’t give this up until I give him what he wants, I whisper it. “Jeffrey Beckleman. What will you do? You can’t hurt him, Tate. That will put your career at stake, and I can’t ask you to do that.” My hands shake.

“Who said I was going to do anything? Having money means I have people for things I don’t want to do.”

I swallow and look up at him. “What’s that mean?”

“It means I’m a part of an organization that helps omega’s in need. Omega’s in dangerous situations with alphas who think that because they’re an alpha they can take and do what they want. Have you ever heard the name Salvation?”

I run the name through my brain. It sounds familiar, but I’m not exactly sure.

“What is it?”

“It’s like an underground safe house. We hide omegas in trouble and dispose of the unsavory alphas.”

I lick my lips nervously. “Dispose of?”

“It’s exactly what you’re thinking.”

My heart is beating like a drum. How do they get away with that? Aren’t people going to suspect things? “But don’t people come looking for them?”

“Most of the time, no.”

“So, what will they do with him?”

“You probably don’t want to know.”

I nod my head because he’s probably right. But I don’t care, right? Not after he ruined me. Not after he took the thing that wasn’t his to take from me.

He hugs me like he might have lost me. Like he still might. I embrace the moment, feeling his warmth against me, clinging to him. Enjoying just simply being.

I thought he’d reject me once he found out. I guess there’s still time, but for once, I have hope that he’s telling me the truth. That he’s not going anywhere.

thirty - tate

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