Page 120 of Rebel

“Well, if they release them, then they will be in hot water, so it’s more likely they wanted to scare you.”

“Well, it worked,” I mutter.

“This is how it started for your sister, you know.” I blink at him, and he nods. “She mentioned some texts, some things making her uncomfortable, but she never told me enough for me to figure out who. It’s the exact same thing. It makes sense that whoever was doing it to her is doing it to you.”

“Fucking brilliant.”

“It is.” He grins. “It means we are getting closer.”

I nod, blowing out a breath. He’s right. “Okay, well, if she endured it, then so can I. Let them show themselves. They have to eventually. Thanks, Ben.”

“Of course, we’re a team,” he replies. “Let me know if anything else happens. In the meantime, ask Chase about the cloud and try to look around for who sent the flowers. It could be nothing, or it could lead us to someone.”

“You’re right.” I stand. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

I grab my coat and head for the door, blinking at the framed picture on the table I didn’t see on the way in. I smile as I pick it up. “When was this taken?” I ask him as I stroke my sister’s face. She’s half turned away, like he caught her when she was distracted, and there’s traffic behind her, but she’s beautiful.

“Oh, when we were out on a walk. She hated having her picture taken at the end, but some part of me knew I needed them,” he tells me.

Nodding, I carefully set it back down. “Thanks, Ben. I’ll keep looking. Let me know if you have anything.”

“Will do,” he replies.

Outside his apartment building, I hail a cab, and rather than going home, I head straight to the rehearsal space. The guys won’t be there for a couple of hours, but I can practice the parts of the chorus for the new song that’s troubling me.

I can lose myself in the music.

It doesn’t take long to get there, and I know the code to get in. I lock the doors behind me just in case since I’ve never really been here alone, and then I shed my jacket once more. Cranking up the speaker, I grab my guitar and stand before the mic.

I close my eyes and imagine the guys around me, playing their parts, and join in with my guitar, the chords familiar. I only make two mistakes, and each time, I restart before finally adding my voice. I need to get this down quickly, so I keep going over it.

Clapping jerks me from the trance I’m in. The guys are in the doorway, and I have no idea how long they have been standing there. I wince. “Heard me demolishing the new song?”

“Demolishing? Pretty girl, you were perfection.” Chase winks as he heads over. “Let’s practice it together. We have three new ones to get right before next week, but with your voice, we are going to blow everyone away.”

I blow out a nervous breath and nod as Kolton and Trav get ready on their instruments. I’ve been taking lessons with a vocal coach on projecting and perfecting my tone, not to mention a choreographer for stage presence, but even with all that training, I still don’t feel prepared for what’s coming, especially now that I know I will actually be on tour as a rock star.

That idea is fucking terrifying.

The guys obviously sense my unease, so we run through it over and over until I’m relaxed and hitting the notes I need to, and then I start to get into it. I don’t think anyone can ever be too prepared, and no matter what, I know I’ll still be shitting myself on the first stage, which is normal—or so they tell me at least.

“Let’s take a break,” Kolt calls. “We’ve been at it for hours. Let’s have a drink and take five to relax.”

“Sounds good,” I reply gratefully. My throat aches. I’ve gotten better at keeping my voice warm and safe, but it’s still a lot to hit all the high notes without hurting myself, and I have to be careful. I can manage the full set, but I don’t know how I’m going to manage the full tour. The guys have faith, but me, not so much.

I head over where Trav is already making me herbal honey tea, and I accept it gratefully. Chase’s eyes darken as I sip it, and my own narrow. “I know that look. Whatever you’re thinking, no.”

“What look?” he murmurs sweetly, even as he steps sideways.

“The I have a bad idea look,” I reply, watching him.

“Me? Bad ideas? Never.” He winks.

“Um, what about the time you convinced us to break into the Eiffel Tower restaurant?” Kolton asks with a pointed look.

“Or the time you convinced us to get drunk on the flight to that interview and we threw up everywhere on the show?” Trav asks.