Page 241 of Fame & Chaos

And for one horrifying moment, it hadn’t even felt wrong.

I close my eyes, trying to steady myself, but all I can see is Indi. She’ll have hung up, thinking I’d lied to her again, believing I’d chosen Sasha over her after everything we’d fought to rebuild. She doesn’t know the truth. She doesn’t know that every second Sasha has been near me has been against my will, or that the woman has spent months manipulating both our lives just because she couldn’t accept that I never wanted her.

I bend down and retrieve my phone, relieved to find the screen cracked but still working.

Good.

I swipe my key card and step into my room, dialing Indi’s number before the door has even shut behind me.

It rings.

And rings.

No goddamn answer.

“Come on, baby,” I whisper, willing her to pick up.

The call ends.

I ring again.

Nothing.

Again.

Still nothing.

“Fuck!”

The room suddenly feels too small, the walls closing in as I pace from one side to the other with the phone pressed against my ear. She has to answer. She has to let me explain that none of this was real, that the night Sasha convinced me I’d slept with her was nothing more than another one of her twisted games.

How could someone be so completely fucking insane?

I hit redial again, my heart pounding so violently I can barely think straight.

This time, the call doesn’t even ring.

It goes straight to voicemail.

She’s turned her phone off.

“For fuck’s sake!”

The bedside lamp is in my hand before I even realize I’ve picked it up. It crashes against the wall, exploding into pieces that scatter across the carpet, but the sound does nothing to release the pressure crushing my chest.

I need more.

The chair slams into the wall next, splintering into jagged pieces before I sweep the ornaments from the television cabinet and hurl them across the room. They strike the floor-to-ceiling mirror with enough force to send glass raining everywhere, the shards glittering beneath the lights as they scatter across the room.

My breathing comes in short, uneven bursts as I stand in the middle of the destruction.

None of it helps.

None of it changes the fact that Indi thinks I’ve betrayed her.

I can’t stay here.

Every instinct I have screams at me to get on a plane and go to her. If I leave now, the band’s jet will have me back in London in a couple of hours, and maybe, just maybe, I can get to her before she walks away from us for good.