The Rock Star’s Fake Fiancee - Kenzie Reed Page 0,107

trashing a room. It was always you.” Then I see the look on his face. “Oh, my God. It was never you. You covered for him all along.”

He shrugs uneasily, staring at the ground.

“He was a total ass to let you take the fall for him,” I say heatedly. “Worse than an ass. An absolute dickhead.”

“No, that’s on me.” Sebastian grimaces. “He trashed a room, he was on probation, I didn’t want him to go away for a long time, so I said I’d done it. He wanted to come clean, I wouldn’t let him. I told him that things would be even worse for us if it came out that I lied. And when it got to the point that we lost our contract, he finally straightened out. Went to therapy for a while, cut down on the drinking and just basically owned his shit.”

“For God’s sake, why didn’t you just let him deal with the consequences of his actions?”

Sebastian shakes his head, his brow furrowing in anguish.

“Because it was my fault, Callie. Him being so angry, it was on me. Our stepfather abused him for years, and I should have seen it, and I didn’t.” He chews his lower lip. “I still can’t believe Magnus took it out on you guys, though. I’m so sorry. He wouldn’t have done that if I’d made him deal with his problems earlier.”

I throw up my hands in exasperation. “Sebastian, climb down off your cross already!”

His mouth opens, and he stares at me in total shock.

I’m as surprised as he is. I didn’t know I was going to say that until I said it, but somehow, my mouth keeps moving and words spill out.

“I’m sorry, but your martyr complex is going to drag you under and drown you. I know what it feels like to try to shoulder everyone else’s burdens. You can only do it so long before you snap. And then you’re no good to yourself or anybody.

“I mean, I get it. I feel like if I don’t keep everything clean, my loved ones are going to get bubonic plague or something, even though the rational part of my mind knows that’s not true. You need to stop yourself when you get those kind of feelings, and understand them for what they are. They’re a way to try to control things that can’t be controlled.

“Look at you. You feel responsible for keeping the band going, for making sure Monica’s pregnancy goes smoothly and she stays healthy, for keeping Magnus out of trouble, for working with an impossible boss who undermines you at every turn, and then you try to keep Chris from upsetting Magnus… You can’t do it all, Sebastian, and if anything bad happens, it’s not your fault. Sometimes bad stuff just happens.”

“Callie! Wrap it up!” Deputy Spillwell yells impatiently.

Sebastian’s just staring at me, his expression blank.

“Whew. That was a lot,” I say. “Are you still speaking to me?”

His eyes are glazed. “I don’t know what I’m doing right now.”

I hate to pile even more on him, but what I’m about to say has to be said. “I don’t think Magnus did it. When he was like, ‘Fine, you think I did it? Then I did!’ it sounded more like he was angry at being accused.”

A look of shock crosses his face. “You think so? I was so angry at him, I didn’t ask, I just accused.”

“We need to go,” Deputy Spillwell calls out.

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll check our security footage,” I say to Sebastian as the deputy walks back over and opens the patrol car door.

I head back into the hotel at a dead run. Ignoring everyone’s questions, I hurry through the lobby and make my way to the office. Daisy and Chase are standing by the office door, talking to Junebug and my mother.

“I need to check the cameras,” I tell them. “I don’t think Magnus did it.”

They follow me in, and I plop down behind the desk and turn the computer on.

As I switch on the camera feed, everyone huddles around behind me.

“Guys, a little personal space, please?” I say, annoyed.

They ignore me. Daisy leans in, practically breathing down my neck.

“Why is there nothing but static? Did you do it wrong? Chase, you do it, she’s hopeless with technology.”

I jab an elbow back at her and it hits her in the boob.

“Ow!” she snaps.

“That wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t all up my butt.”

“Language,” my mother calls. “But really, did you do it wrong, Callie?