Long Way Down (Calloway Sisters, #4)

by Krista Ritchie

“You’re so pushy. You know that, right?” She’d reminded me of that before. “Are you like this with everyone?” Only people I care about.

My head hammered again. I care about you. I want you to be safe. Please don’t fuck anyone that makes you uncomfortable. It’s going to kill me if it kills you.

“That’s not fucking funny, sweetheart.”

“You’d call her sweetheart too.”

“You know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever called that.”

“Thank you,” she panted, out of breath from excitement and adrenaline. “For what?” “For doing this with me,” she said, “so I didn’t have to be alone.” 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.

“Jesus,” Lo says, laughing. “Please let me record this.” “If you want a fist to your face,” I mutter.

don’t be afraid. I’m afraid of watching the people I love get hurt. I’m afraid of hurting the people I love. Sometimes I feel like no matter what I do, I’m going to fall into one of the two.

I wasn’t that upset to see Connor move down the street. It mostly sucks in early mornings when I’m in the gym. Connor used to spot me since Lo doesn’t wake up that early. Do I miss him nagging me for information about Daisy’s therapy sessions? No. Do I miss him quizzing me about literature and languages? No. Do I miss his constant need to make everything a fucking cock show? Absolutely-fucking-not. But yeah…sometimes I miss that motherfucker.

“I’ve been alone for most of my life,” Ryke starts.

“And then I met you,” he says huskily.

“I made your life crazy,” I whisper.

“Yeah, Dais. You made it fucking crazy, and I’ve been so crazy in love with you.”

“All I need is you.”

“You’re my family, Dais. And if it’s only the two of us in the end, I’d be just as fucking happy.”

He’s much older, my protector and my best friend. He’s my future and my happiness. He’s everything that I wasn’t sure he’d ever be, and I want him all, right now.

Watching someone you care about slowly and then rapidly become scared of the world around them is like being a passenger in a car crash. With no way to pump the brakes. It’s fucking hell. And it’s exponentially worse for her.

“I love you,” I remind him, knowing I don’t say it as often as him. When I do say those words, blood rushes to every one of my limbs, as though reminding me of life. I am a living, breathing thing. In love with him.

Ryke’s words: Babies take the fucking backseat, sweetheart. I replied: Literally. They will be sitting in the backseat if we drive our babies around.

“I’ve already found my fucking princess.” “I bet she’s proud to be with a man like you.”

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” I tease. “And how am I looking at you?” “Like you love me.” “I do fucking love you.”

Daisy shrugs, pain flaring in her eyes, and it breaks my fucking heart. I can’t tell if it’s emotional or physical, but I want to take it all away.

“You know your ass says, Bat Girl, right?” I didn’t. “That do it for you, Calloway?” “It does a lot of things for me.”

If he’d hurt Willow, physically, emotionally. That’s all I care about. Her safety. Her wellbeing.

Friends aren’t forever. They’re not even for a while.

My journal. It’s the new item in my life where I’ve translated my future into lists. And these lists, they’re actually being checked off. My future is being molded by my own will, and it’s something exciting. I know exactly what I’m going to be doing five, ten, twenty years down the line. Even thinking about it, my chest puffs out and I could toss my hands in the air and howl.

“My favorite superhero wears this ring…” She finally pulls it off and then shows me the simple silver band with a black square carved in the center. “It protects Tilly Stayzor from anyone outside of the Fourth Degree, basically her personal enemies.” She flips the piece of jewelry between her fingers. “This ring is just a reminder that there are people who have your back. And we all need protection at some point.” She places it in my hand. “I want you to have mine.”

“What’s the point of speaking up when no one hears you?” It broke my heart.

“The fucking point is for people to understand that you have opinions, that your voice counts, and if they don’t hear you then yell louder.”

“Never give up or back down on the things that fill your soul, Calloway. There is no wors...

Connor Cobalt looks bored. Even Janie, in a pale blue dress, watches the party and me with disinterest—and she’s one.

“I want to congratulate you,” he tells me. “I meant it when I said that I’m glad you’re a part of this family. You’ve taken good care of my daughter, especially recently…” He chokes up for a second.

“That went well,” Connor says. “Really?” I rub my eyes. “No.” I glare at him beneath my hand. “I fucking hate you.” “It’s mutual,” Connor says, not letting me have sole ownership of my fucking hate.

“Really though, how much shit am I going to be in with her dad?” I ask them, steering the topic away. “When he finds out you’re procreating as soon as possible,” Connor muses. Lo rephrases, “When he finds out you’re impregnating his youngest daughter as we speak.” Connor arches a brow. “When he finds out you’re actively having sex with the hope of your sperm meeting her egg.” “When he finds out you’re—” “I got it,” I cut off my brother. I shouldn’t have fucking asked.

All the guys follow my gaze to their respective girl, but none of us head over there yet. We’ve always had this unspoken agreement for years. Let the Calloway sisters have time together. It makes our girls happy, and in the end, we all strive to please the people we truly fucking love.

Ryke would tell me that it doesn’t matter. That no matter how much people root against us, our own relentless belief in ourselves, in our love, trumps everything.

“Then, one day, I realized that you are lightning. You can’t be bottled or contained anymore than she can. And together, you both make a beautiful, perfect storm.” She raises her champagne glass. “To my daughter and her husband-to-be, I hope you only know true happiness.”

Stop it right now, this is so sweet

“But it doesn’t have to be every day. We can have sex every two days if you need a break.” I begin to smile. “Did you research this?” Quietly, he says, “I’m trying to get you fucking pregnant, of course I looked it up.” I’m trying to get you fucking pregnant. My heart swells.

“You know, Dais,” I say, trying to pick the right words, “it’s not unnatural if we can’t do it that way. It’s just fucking different.” I don’t want her to think she’s less than anyone. Having a baby doesn’t determine anyone’s fucking worth. She could have no female reproductive organs and be just as much of a woman…but I don’t need to tell her this.

I love you Ryke

Sully gapes. “Toad-face.” “Ginger root.” He tosses him a carabiner, and I can almost see their friendship at eight and nine years old, right before my eyes. Sully scoffs and pats his hair. “You just wish you were part of the Weasley clan.”

“Congratulations by the way,” I tell my brother. There’s a long pause. “For what?” “You know what.” It’s the first week of October. Today marks the fucking day that my little brother has been sober…for two long years. I think he’s going to say something biting in return. After another pause, he says, “Thanks, you know, for everything.” His edged voice is full of sincerity. “You did it on your own. I just stood by you.”

Rose snorts, “And I’m not Rose Calloway Cobalt.” Daisy mock gasps. “No way. Who are you?” Rose isn’t amused. “I almost brought nail polish, but I thought ‘no, I don’t want the fumes to asphyxiate my sisters.’ Now I’m rethinking my loyalties.” She shoots Daisy a look like, I blame you for making me rethink my loyalties.

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.

“Hey, Rose.” I smile wide as she meets my eyes. “I like the red color you chose.” “They were out of black,” she snaps and then squats to fix the laces on her boots. “That’s a shame,” Lo says, clipping in Moffy’s right ski. “Now your boots don’t match your heart.”

He suddenly steals my phone and snaps a pic, typing too. Just as I regain composure, he chucks the phone back at me. I manage to catch it, and my laugh quiets as I curiously skim the screen. His Instagram is popped up, both of our photos posted side-by-side with the caption: my someday wife #sweetheart #pumpkinpie My chest swells because Ryke isn’t big on social media, not unless I remind him.

Another fact: Connor and Rose should be happy. We should all be fucking happy. Adding another kid to their family—this has been one of their dreams and goals. No one should diminish their joy. We have though, and we have to fucking rectify this. Daisy takes the reins. “It’s a good thing,” she says the words from the bottom of her soul. “It is.” Rose fights tears in her bloodshot eyes.

Before Daisy has a chance to explain, Rose reaches for her sister’s hands and squeezes. “I want you to know that I could never be happy if you died, not even if I had a baby to look forward to. I could never be okay with losing you.” She blinks back tears.

I have never gone a year without climbing since. It motivated me. It challenged me. It’s a part of me. The way I go at life, I go at it like a climber would—self-disciplined, aggressive, tenacious, persistent. It is a part of me.

“Not because of a fucking theory. I can’t think of a place I’d rather be right now than with you. Truth is, I can’t think of a place I’d rather be in fifty fucking years than next to you.”

And even though the universe rarely tilts our way, in this second, on this magical sleigh, I pretend that we’re going to live forever. That we’ll have a Minnie Meadows. And no one will smite us for our love. Just this once.