for a minute, hands shoved in my pockets, willing the street to stop shifting under my feet.
Then I start walking aimlessly. I wonder where Callie is. Does she miss me at all? Or is she already out on a date with someone else?
The thought makes me so angry that I stalk across the street without looking both ways. A car screeches to a stop. A horn blares angrily, and I flip off the driver without looking at them.
“Hey! Sebastian!”
I stare blearily at the driver. It’s Chase Lancaster, Callie’s brother-in-law.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?”
I glower at him belligerently. “Who’d miss me?”
“Jesus, you freaking idiot. Get in the damn car. Let’s go for a drive.”
I walk around the front of his Lexus LX and slide into the passenger’s seat. I’ve met Chase a few times since I’ve been here. He’s a nice enough guy, but flashy. Always wearing custom-tailored suits and cufflinks that cost more than a working man’s yearly salary.
“Shorry.”
I try again, sounding my words out very carefully so I won’t slur. “S-ooory. I’m not trying to kill myself. Or anyone else. I should have washed where I wash going.” I take a deep breath. “Waaatchh-ch-ed where I wazzz going.”
“No shit,” he says with annoyance. He rolls down the windows and starts driving. I don’t ask where we’re going. “What’s on your mind?”
“Family. Or lack thereof.”
“What about family?”
I force my fuzzy brain to focus. “My band is supposed to be my family. I don’t just mean Magnus. I mean Parker and Monica too. Shouldn’t they have my back no matter what?”
“Depends, I guess.” He looks straight ahead as he’s driving. We’ve left downtown, and we’re wandering down one of Bitter End’s side streets at a leisurely pace. “What do you mean exactly by having your back?”
“I mean…they shouldn’t kick a man when he’s down.”
Chase speaks with exaggerated patience. “How did they kick you, exactly?”
“They’re not taking my side.” Even though I’m at least fifty percent sure I’m right.
Okay, twenty-five percent.
“Should they be taking your side?”
As we drive, the cool night air streams through the window and clears some of the fog from my brain. Callie has every reason not to trust me. I left her without a word of explanation. Yes, I am a different man now, but how would she know that? We’ve just started to get to know each other again. I can’t expect her to just give me the benefit of the doubt. I haven’t earned it.
“No. They shouldn’t.”
“And how exactly did they not have your back? Do you want them to just agree with whatever you do or say, even if you’re being an idiot? I assume you did something stupid and they handed you your ass. Does that sound about right?”
“I mean…”
“Look. I didn’t grow up with the most functional parents. The Abernathys are more my family than my parents ever were. And I can tell you, when someone, including me, fucks up, the Abernathys will let them know. It doesn’t mean they don’t love me. It means they respect themselves too much to put up with any crap, and they care enough to expect me to be my best.”
Everything he’s saying is true. And every word is like a blow to the gut, because in screwing over Callie, I didn’t just hurt her. I hurt her family, by extension. They’ve welcomed me with open arms. They’ve treated me like one of them. Unfortunately, I’m now zero percent sure that I’m in the right.
My phone starts ringing.
“Answer it,” Chase says.
I want to argue, but he’s the one with the sober brain, so he probably has better ideas than me right now. I pull my phone out.
“What?” I growl.
“Where the hell are you?” It’s Magnus.
“Somewhere. I don’t know.” I squint out the window and see a blur of magnolia trees. “I’m in Chase Lancaster’s car.”
“Can he bring you back to the hotel? We can go for a walk. Clear your head.” He heaves a weary sigh. “Sorry, I should have been more patient with you back at the bar.”
I look at Chase. “Magnus is waiting for me back at the hotel. Do you mind?”
“Not in the slightest. Just don’t run in front of any more cars. Especially not mine. Blood and guts are hell to clean out of the grill.”
He has me back at the hotel in ten minutes. I climb out of the car, considerably steadier now. “Thanks,” I say. “I’m sorry I was such a pain in the ass. That’s really not like me.”