28. Twenty Eight - Rebel

twenty eight - rebel

. . .

Memories assault my mind. The same phrase keeps running through my head. Nova was almost assaulted, and it's my fault. I should've been there. I should've taken her place. The thought of being in that position without being given a choice again has me wanting to revert to old habits. Ones that numb the pain.

I haven't picked up a razor in years. Not since I left that foster home behind, but now I can't make them go away. The reminders haunt me.

I go through the motions turning on the shower and getting undressed. The water is hot against my skin as I stick my hand under it, scalding almost, but I don't care. I feel it. His hands. I promised myself I'd never think about him again, but now I can't stop.

Who did it? Who broke into our home?

The one place I'd finally found safety.

My mind races. I'm broken, helpless again, like that scared teenager with no way out, wondering if this is what life has become.

A sob rips from my throat, and my breath catches in my chest as I gasp, my lungs seizing inside me.

The weight of knowing what she went through last night. The pain is more than just mental. My legs feel weak as I shake standing there in the middle of Tate's bathroom. I rip open the doors under the sink, searching, sending things flying, looking for anything, something to take it away. There has to be one here.

I feel his hands on me. His warm breath against my skin as he crawls on top of me. A tear slips out, trailing down my cheek.

My lungs fill with pressure as if they'll explode any minute if I let them. Maybe even if I don't. I find what I'm looking for tucked into the back of one of the bins under the sink.

The familiar weight in my hands gives me a modicum of comfort, knowing this will help, but also hating myself for letting him get to me after all these years again.

I want to be free of this pain, this anguish.

I just want to breathe again.

I need to think.

I need to feel something other than this pit of helplessness forming in my gut.

Taking a deep breath, I step under the scalding heat of the shower. Water beats on me from above as I take the small piece of silver to my inner thigh. The previous scars have healed, leaving behind tiny white lines, but I know just where to go to make it better.

Water beats down on me, drowning out the tears leaking down my cheeks. Life isn't supposed to be this hard. Why did they have to die? What did I do in my lifetime to earn this? To be left with these feelings. Every step I take forward takes me five steps backward when I spiral. I haven't felt like this in months, but memories drag me back into the abyss.

Misery echoes in the very chambers of my mind, reminding me that I'm nothing. Reminding me that I'll never be more than the child left behind, than the one who was sexually assaulted for months, having to keep my mouth shut so it didn't get worse. I had to endure things no human should have to experience in this life.

Why do I continue?

My feelings towards Tate have me jumbled up, not knowing what to do. I'm spiraling. I want to trust him, but I've been hurt before. What is there for me to believe that he won't leave me when he's done with me? I'm tired of thinking of the fear of someone stalking me and now stalking my best friend. Who is now hurt because of me.

I'm slowly fragmenting here, and how long will it continue?

I can't…. Another sob tears from my lips as I press the blade to my skin. Red rivulets trail down the inside of my leg, diluting with the water before washing down the drain. Crimson tracks are left in place of the blood.

I thought this would give me some sort of relief. It used to, but today, I feel so damn empty inside.

The tears fall harder as I clutch the razor in my fist before falling to my knees on the shower floor. The tile is cold against my skin as I collapse, but I don't try to stop myself. I hang my head and let the water rush over me.

It's all I hear.

It's all I know.

I watch as the blood on my legs turns clear, and I feel the burn left behind by the cuts. It stings to the touch. I shouldn't be pushing my finger into the abused skin, but I do. Because then at least I feel it. No matter how bad it hurts, it reminds me that I'm still here. I'm still alive. Despite my thoughts about ending it.

I'm too much of a coward.

I miss Drake. Where are you? I speak the words into the steam surrounding me, but I already know there will be no answer. He shut me out years ago, and I haven't heard from him since. He's not coming back. It's just me and my thoughts right now.

I close my eyes, letting the water stream over me. "Rebel!" A voice calls to me through the fog of my mind, but I'm too numb to fully register what it's saying. "Fuck it, Rebel!"

It's Tate. I know it has to be him, but I don't want him to see me like this. It's just another reason for him to leave me. He'll see what I've done, the scars, and he'll leave me like the rest did.

I give him a weak go away , but of course, he doesn't. Because he's Tate. Because despite his craziness, he's my mate. Maybe his crazy knows mine better than I thought.

The shower door flies open, cold air reacting, raising goosebumps along my skin. Tate sinks to his knees in front of me, still in his clothes. The water soaks through his clothes instantly.

"Fuck, Rebel." He grabs my face and tries to make me look at him, but I squeeze my eyes tighter so I don't have to see the look of disappointment, of pity. "Look at me."

I shake my head. I can't.

"Yes. Rebel, look at me. I need you to see me. I'm here, baby. I'm right in front of you." I shake my head again, but he pleads. "Please, little firebrand." The nickname pulls open my eyes, and I find the worry shining through his topaz orbs. "Rebel…" I don't know what grabs his attention, but when he looks down, he reaches out to touch me but stops, his expression shattering. "Fuck, Danger."

His voice cracks as he tugs me to him, grabbing the razor and throwing it away from us. He's warm to the touch. "If you need to hurt something, baby, hurt me. Cut me. I'm here for you, and I'm not fucking going anywhere. I didn't know it was this bad. What happened? What triggered it? Was it Nova?"

I can't answer so I just nod my head as another sob bursts free.

"You are not alone, Rebel. I will kill anyone who tries to touch you. I promise on my dying breath, you have me. I'm not going anywhere. I swear it."

"Why?" The question slips out. I have to question why he'd want someone like me when there are so many other omega's out there so much better.

"Because you were mine that first night I saw you at Sips N' Shots. You were mine the second time I saw you at my party. You were mine when I sunk my teeth into this gorgeous neck and finally claimed you as mine. You're a part of me, and that will never change. Making you mine was the best decision I've ever made in this lifetime, and I would do it time and time over again if I needed to."

He leans down, breathing against his mark on my neck, and licks it. "Don't," I whisper, but it's too late. He bites down again, teeth tearing through my skin a second time.

Lifting up lightly, he whispers to me, and I can feel the blood dripping onto my skin. It's warmer than the shower that's starting to run cold. "You feel that, Rebel? Feel me. Be with me. Fight for me. Fight for us."

He looks in the direction where he threw the razor and points. "I don't know what made you pick up that razor tonight, and right now, I don't care. I know in time you'll tell me, but right now, it's us. You and me. That may have taken the edge off and numbed the pain when you were younger, but you don't need it anymore. Not this time. Let me be your escape. If you need to cut, Rebel, you cut me. You take it out on my fucking skin."

He leans over and grabs the blade, holding it up to me. "Is that what you need? You need to see someone bleed. You need to take the pain hiding in your eyes away?" He grabs my hand with one of his and wraps it around the other one holding the razor and drags it to his chest. "Cut me, baby. Hurt me. I can take it. What I can't take is you hurting yourself; marring this perfect skin is cruel. I'm not filled with light and happiness like normal guys, Rebel, but I think that's what makes us perfect. My dark calls to yours, our souls meet in the middle. We're perfect for each other. So lean on me, little one. So tell me, do you need to see me bleed?" He digs the tip into his chest and a trickle of blood forms where it connects.

"No," I cry out, yanking my hand away. "Don't."

He pulls me in for a bruising hug, and I can't stop looking at the blood leaking from his skin. Tilting my head, he buries my face in his neck, and I can't help but inhale him like a drug. Like the one thing keeping me here, holding me down, keeping me from withering into myself.

Gratefulness fills my chest, and the emotions burst like a dam. It's a snotty, ugly cry, and I could be embarrassed about it, but I'm not. For once in my life, I have someone else showing up for me, holding me close, and telling me it's okay. For once, someone's in my corner.

I'm so tired of being strong. Tired of doing everything alone. I want to give it up to him, the control. I'm tired of holding onto it.

I allow myself to sink into his warmth as the world around me falls to the wayside. His touch is a soothing balm to my soul. My anchor in this furious storm of emotions. He slips one arm under my legs and one arm behind my lower back before lifting me from the floor of the bathroom. I briefly register a towel being wrapped around my body as he shifts me in his arms.

Exhaustion pulls at my mind. The reminder of Nova has my eyes flying open. He lowers me gently into his bed and tucks me in, but I fight him. "I have to go see Nova. I have to make sure she's okay."

"No, you need to rest. We will go check on her later. Gunnar is with her. She's got someone. They're probably just monitoring her for now." I nod in acceptance, my head feels like it weighs one hundred pounds, and I can't seem to keep my eyes from closing. Sleep pulls me under like a temptress in the night, whispering to simply let go.

"Sleep." I feel his lips against my forehead again as he snuggles in next to me, cocooning my body. "I'll keep your demons at bay," he adds. Those six words relax me like none other and let me slip away into the inky darkness of sleep patiently waiting for me on the other side.