35. Thirty Five - Rebel

thirty five - rebel

. . .

"Are you going to tell me what?" My voice bleeds out from behind where they're seated on the couch. My heart is instantly in my throat. The look on his face tells me he didn't want me to find out like this. If we're being honest, I bet he didn't want me to find out, period. Not that I even know what he's going to tell me or if he's going to tell me.

I knew Tate was too good to be true.

Life has been going too well until now.

If I'm honest with myself, I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Hello, other shoe.

Drake raises his eyebrows, clearly waiting for Tate to answer the question he clearly doesn't want to answer. "Why don't you come over here and take a seat?"

"Answer the question, Tate." I say it blandly as if I'm bored waiting for an answer to form out of thin air. My eyes travel between Drake and Tate, trying to decipher exactly what's going on.

Tate goes to speak, but Drake beats him to it. "It's been a while, Rebel."

Wait, how does he know my name? My brows furrow in confusion, eyes darting between the two of them. He stands to come over, but I hold my hands out in front of me, telling him to wait. I don't want to be near either one of them right now.

He takes another step towards me, and I back away. He sighs in defeat. "Okay, maybe this will make you remember." Pulling up his left shirt sleeve, he bears the dog inked into his arm permanently.

No. There's no way. My mind starts running a million miles a minute. There's no way this is my Drake, right? It's gotta be a coincidence, but what about the tattoo? He has the dog from our foster home tattooed on his left bicep. Who else would know about Rocky?

There's no denying it, though. As I stand here taking in every inch of his face, I do recognize him. The alpha before me is a hell of a lot taller than the last time I saw him, and his muscles could probably eat you for dinner if you let them. Damn, boy works out. But how….

My mouth is dry as I open it to speak, allowing my tongue to dart out and wet my lips. His dark eyes follow the movement, and I have to clench my thighs together because, fuck, he's back. He's here. My Drake came back for me. But if he knows who I am, why didn't he say something the last time he saw me? He should've known, right? "Drake?"

He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it perfectly disheveled. "Hey, Rebel. Good to see you again, little omega." He smiles at me, and it's his typical charmer smile that always had my panties wanting to fall to the ground. I don't want to, but I can't help it, I fucking swoon at his words.

All of those memories from when we were together start rushing back into my brain. I want to run to him, punch him, and then have him wrap me in his arms and never let me go, but he's been gone for so long, and I'm mated now. I'm mated to the other alpha in the room. The one I've been ignoring because how the fuck could he do this to me? Keep this from me? Is it that he didn't want to share me?

It's obvious that we were once close.

I walk towards him now seated on the couch, and those perfect lips of his turn up at the corners. An alpha stalking his prey. As if the smile flips a switch, I slap him across the face. I've missed him so fucking much that it hurts seeing him here. He left me. Left me to that monster. Walked away and never looked back, even stopped responding to my calls and texts after a while. Sorrow fills his eyes. He has to know how painful seeing him again is, especially now.

"You left me." The hurt is audible in my small voice. I wrap my arms around my midsection as if that will somehow protect me from the feelings trying to escape. He hurt me, ripped my fucking heart out when he left.

I shouldn't blame him for what happened after. I know if Drake had been there still, I wouldn't have dealt with the abuse every night, but he wasn't there, and he didn't know. Now, the indecision creeps into my brain on what to do next. I want to beat on his chest and cry until the pain of the past dissipates. I want him to hold me like he did all those years ago at night when I just needed a friend. I need him, but I can't need him anymore. He's not mine. And now he'll never be yours , that sarcastic bitch in my brain pipes up.

"I…" Tate goes to say something else, but I hold my hand up, stopping him.

"Don't want to hear it right now." I glance towards the clock over the fireplace in the living room, trying to figure out how long I've been sleeping. "Is there a reason you two are sitting in the living room discussing me over beers. You could've just invited me to join you, then I could have at least had an input on the decision to not tell me something."

My voice is laced with hints of pain and anger. I have that right. I'm allowed to be pissed with both of them.

My hands fall to my hips as I glare at Tate. "What else are you hiding, Tate? How long have you been hiding this?"

"Nothing. I put two and two together when we talked about the foster home the other day."

"Were you even going to tell me or was I just going to find out eventually, or maybe never at all?"

My eyes are heavy with unshed tears as I stare at my past and my future sitting together on the same damn couch like they haven't just spun my world upside down. I guess I should be used to this by now, but it still hurts every damn time.

"Firebrand…" His voice sounds so sad and broken.

I shake my head, pushing away the part of my omega that wants to just forgive him because he's my alpha. Maybe I'm being dramatic about all of this. Maybe he truly didn't know and wasn't sure how to tell me. Fuck, I don't know what to think. All I know is that I can't be here right now.

I want to pack up my shit and go to Nova's, but she's not home, she's with Gunnar for the time being. And after what happened to her, she probably doesn't want to see me, either. It's basically my fault she got assaulted. So, instead of walking out the front door and having to figure out where to go, I march upstairs and find another empty bedroom.

I have nowhere to go, so I'm staying here, but I refuse to stay in the same room as him.

My heart feels like it was put into a grinder and it's being obliterated. Of course, Rebel, you should know better. Nothing ever pans out how it should.

A knock sounds on the door, and then I hear his voice. "Rebel. Talk to me." My omega wants to comfort him for simply the sheer sound of sadness in his voice, but I remind her that he did this to himself. I don't respond, and minutes later, the door knob rattles. Thank God I remembered to lock the damn door.

"You know I have the key to this lock, right?" This time, his voice is a growl. I remain silent, and eventually, footsteps lead him away from the door. I'm left to breathe again. In, out. In, out. Another tear falls.

I fall into a fitful sleep, hoping that when I wake up, all of this will just be a dream.

The mattress dips beside me, and I wake with a start. The dark disorients me. Moonlight streams in from the window, casting its gaze on the shadow seated on the side of my bed. My heart picks up. Who's here?

His head turns, giving me a profile, and I realize it's Tate.

A yawn is pulled from my lips. "Tate?"

"Hey, little firebrand." His hair is ruffled like he's been worrying his hands through it. He's shirtless, and I can't help but admire the way the light touches his chest. "We need to talk. I've given you time, but I won't let you run from this, and I won't let you hide. We're going to discuss this. I can't wait any longer.

My mind is foggy from sleep, and my eyes are puffy from the tears that stained my pillow. Running my hand across the side table, I search for the switch to the light and turn it on, shielding my eyes from the brightness of the light. He looks awful, with a morose expression on his face.

"I'm not sorry that I didn't tell you when I figured it out. You're mine, Rebel, and I won't lose you. I can't lose you. I know how you feel about him, and I can't fucking compete with the memories of him." Shoving hair out of his face, his eyes meet mine. The normally vivid color is dimmed with stress and… worry.

"It was never meant to last, right?" I say it quietly, knowing exactly what I'm doing.

He reaches out and touches my cheek. I should recoil away, I'm mad at him after all, but I also like the comfort it brings me. "Fuck that. We're meant for forever. You and me against the world. Don't let the voices in your head win. Don't let them make you question what we have here. Make you question us ."

"I always thought it would be Drake and I. At the end of the road, I thought we'd be the ones mated. He'd have gone off and gotten a few years in with the NHL, and then he'd come back for me. But life changes. Things happen. Things we don't want to happen, happen."

"If I was a better alpha, I'd understand. I'd let you see what could happen between the two of you, but I'm selfish. I want you all to myself, and I don't share well. I am in fucking love with you, Rebel Davis. I know that's not what you want to hear, and, fuck, it may have you wanting to run, but don't. Give this a chance."

I search his face for any type of lie, but he's telling me the truth. I can feel it in the bond. He's certain about us.

I hate that I have doubts.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head. Let me turn them off." Leaning in, he kisses me, not giving the slightest opportunity to respond or even think about what he just said. His lips meet mine in a clash of desperation. Do his lips taste better when he's trying to prove to me that he wants me?

The bond tingles between us, and my heart flutters. How does he give me butterflies even when I'm mad at him? A thought breaks into my brain like a criminal, making me wonder if maybe I was wrong, maybe Tate Geekies is my true mate. Maybe it's not Drake. Maybe I clung to Drake because he was what I knew, and Tate is what I didn't know I needed.

"Do you have any idea how sexy you look in my shirt?" It dawns on me that when I confronted the guys, I was doing so in only Tate's shirt. Well, fucking lovely. But the way his fingers are trailing under said shirt is distracting me. Pushing my shirt up my chest, he latches onto one of my nipples, while a finger tweaks the other one.

I swear, the sensation zips right down to my pussy. The slick seeps from between my thighs onto the blankets below me. His eyes flare with desire, his pupils dilated.