Long Way Down (Calloway Sisters, #4)

by Krista Ritchie

It was then. That I fucking knew how much I really understood her. How much I related to the loneliness in her eyes. I felt closer to her in a way that I couldn’t articulate. It wasn’t physical. Or mental. It was spiritual, something I couldn’t shake.

She has a giant, forgiving heart, and no matter how many times people try to burn her, she’s found a way to rise above.

“Because for the first time in her life,” I say, pride for her filling me, “she knew what she really wanted. And she didn’t need anyone’s advice for it.”

You’re all fucking crazy. – Ryke Then another. Every Calloway sister. – Ryke And another. I love you. – Ryke

“And I’m not just a single type of girl. I’m not just Daisy Calloway, the girl who dives off cliffs. Or Daisy Calloway, the girl who jumps into the ocean without a life vest. I’m so much more than that, and I want a family.”

People say you can’t describe love, but I have this theory that you can. It’s just subjective. Do you want to know what love feels like for me? It’s breathing and suffocating. Sobbing and smiling. Yearning and fading. To ache that much harder. To live that much larger. It’s every moment. Every single, tiny one. I’ve felt it all with Ryke. And it’s not solely the wild, crazed events that keep my heart pumping. It’s these small, most inconceivable seconds of time spent together. Our smiles. Our tears. Our limbs shifting or standing still. The instant our lonely souls are filled. I’ve never lived or loved wilder and freer than with him. I open my mouth to say the words too, but he nods like I see it, Dais. He sees it in my eyes. I’m so in love with him. He kisses me gently, and I think, this is it.

“We’re gathered here today,” Sully begins, placing his hand on my shoulder and then Daisy’s, “to witness the union between two of the craziest people on planet Earth.”

“I knew back then, Daisy Petunia Calloway, because you were the only girl I’d ever met that was as deeply caring and as fucking lonely as me. If anyone was going to fill my heart, it was you. Only you.”

Ryke,” he chokes, tears slipping out of his eyes. “No.” My knuckles whiten on the rope. “What do you fucking mean?” I know what he means. “…leave…me,” he cries. He’s crying, his chin trembling.

Hot tears and sweat burn my cheeks. “This is what’s going to happen.” I clutch his harness, positioning him on my lap for the tandem rappel. “If you fucking die, I’m dying with you. So wherever you’re going, I’m going to be there.” He keeps crying.