Fuel the Fire (Calloway Sisters 3)

“Uhh…” Lily gawks. “I’m not supposed to follow them, am I?”

I’m all for comradery, but I do not want to join their death brigade.

“No way,” Lo tells his wife. “We’re not driving off a cliff with Thelma and Louise.”

Willow digs through her Jansport backpack and takes out a water bottle. “Do they know where they’re going?”

“Nope,” Lo says. “I hope he gets lost.”

They were supposed to follow us, so we wouldn’t find them lifeless in a metal heap fifty miles ahead. We even went as far as denying them the address.

“Knowing Ryke and Daisy, I’m sure that’s their goal,” Connor chimes in.

I crane my neck over my shoulder, noticing Connor rattling a toy over Jane’s car seat. I just barely spot her tiny hands reaching out. Connor smiles, more relaxed than he has been of late, and it causes my lips to rise as well, hoping that our destination will serve as a much-needed sanctuary.

“Christ,” Lo says with a cringe. “I swear every time you smile like that a demon sprouts wings. It’s unnatural.”

Connor looks up and catches my partial smile before it morphs into a withering glare. My husband grins more, but I direct my hostility at Loren.

“Do you know what else is unnatural? Your face.”

Lo looks more amused, and he turns to Connor. “Did you hear that, love? Your wife thinks I’m pretty.”

I’d let out a growl, but the promise beneath this banter from Loren to Connor overpowers any irritation, a promise that says: I’ll always have your back. You’re my best goddamn friend, no one is going to keep that from changing.

Connor rubs his lips, but I see his grin as well as everyone. “She wouldn’t be wrong.”

Lo rotates back to me and flashes a half-smile.

I stretch my arm and raise my palm at him like shut up, but I struggle to reach, seeming non-threatening.

“You want a high-five, Rose?” Lo mocks.

I growl this time, about to flip him off, but my phone’s GPS beeps. I hurriedly swivel back to focus on my primary task. “You have two miles and then you turn right,” I instruct Lily.

The windy roads curve around mountains and create odd forks combined with all-way stops that have had Loren scratching his head. Lily is a better driver than him, so I have faith.

Birch and maple trees jut into the crystal blue sky, no other car driving along the road. When we’re all quiet, we can almost hear the wind rustle the leaves. The stillness contrasts our normal city atmosphere and the chaotic media presence.

“It’s so quiet,” Lily says what travels through my mind.

“As long as we weren’t followed,” I mutter.

“We weren’t,” Connor assures me. His confidence reminds me that we’ve both worked together to ensure a paparazzi-less vacation. When we left our neighborhood, our bodyguards drove in one direction and we left in the other. Connor and I mapped out our pit stops, calculating the most obscure, non-crowded areas. We were only tailed for an hour outside of Philadelphia.

“Willow?” I ask.

She checks her cellphone. “No pictures of you on Instagram or Twitter since yesterday.”

I asked her to keep track, wanting to include her into our group, even if Lo called me a fun sucker.

“There they are,” Lily exclaims, slowing our Escalade at a lookout point on the mountainside, the Ferrari parked. Ryke and Daisy stand on the metal railing to view the sprawling green landscape, a massive drop on the other side. Their unleashed dog sniffs the grass beside them.

“Jesus,” Loren curses.

I roll down my window the same time as Lo.

He beats me to the punch. “Hey!” he shouts. “Crazy Raisins!” Ryke and Daisy both look over at the same time.

Lily mutters under her breath, Crazy for Raisy, to correct his misuse of their couple name. Her preciousness makes light of their rebellion. I’m all for self-expression, but I don’t want to find my little sister in the hospital with her boyfriend. Ever.

Since they’re still standing on the metal railing, I add, “Follow us, please! Daisy, you don’t need to be driving in the dark!” She bought the Ferrari two weeks ago, her first car purchase.

“How many times has she driven a car?” Connor questions from the backseat, his tone even-tempered.

She never really drove before she received her motorcycle license, and I can’t recall a time where she ever sat behind a wheel. I lean further out the window. “Daisy, how many times have you driven any kind of car?!”

She hops off the railing with Ryke, and he hugs her around the waist, nuzzling her neck with his head. Something foreign wedges in my ribcage. Jealousy? No, not quite. Their love isn’t as blinding as Lily and Lo’s but it’s a bright ray of sugary sweet sunshine that almost everyone can see.

Daisy says, “Cuatro!” She wags four fingers.

Oh God.

“Bro, why are you riding in the deathmobile?!” Lo shouts.

Ryke flips him off. “We’re fucking fine!”

Daisy is smiling so wide that it’s hard to say no to her or to question further. Maybe she’s joking. I trust that Ryke knows the truth. Loren and I roll up the windows about the same time, having more faith that they’ll stay close.

* * *

“It could be bigger,” Loren says in jest. The seven of us stare up at the four-story lake house, fifty miles off the beaten path, winding gravel and dirt roads leading us to this sanctuary. With two wrap-around porches, the house sits in a thicket of gorgeously overgrown maple trees, shingles painted cherry red. Our relator (who only knows me by a fake name) said that when the seasons change, the leaves will match the hue of the house.

It’s nestled close to a grassy bank, the house reflecting off the rippling lake, landscaped by the Smoky Mountains. From the naked eye, I can’t spot a single cabin in the distance.

We all chipped in and didn’t just buy this property. We invested in acres and acres of land surrounding it, ensuring that no one would build near us.

“It’s purposefully big,” I remind Lo, my hands on my hips in triumph. This will be a safe place for all of us, where we can escape when our lives become unmanageable and hectic. Jane and whoever else may need this as much as we do.

“Back to spawning eight babies, Fertile Myrtle?” Lo banters.

I shoot him a look. “Just Jane, Loren. And there are more families here besides Connor and me.” I cross my arms. “Like you.” After Maximoff, his views on children changed, and I realize that he’s a little like me in that respect.

He was afraid he’d turn out to be his father.

I was afraid I’d be my mother.

We’re both too aware of their flaws and too self-aware not to spot our own, and I suppose this is our downfall and our saving grace. It’s made us fearful, but it’s also enabled us to diverge from the paths our parents took and learn from their mistakes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says with a short laugh. His amber eyes glitter in the evening light, grazing the house as though imagining the expansion of his family of three. “Maybe someday.”

Daisy and Ryke walk hand-in-hand to the side of the house, Coconut sprinting down the hill. Ryke stops at the top of the slope, in view of the long wooden dock, I presume. He wears an awed, overcome expression, one I’ve only seen when he’s with Daisy and after he rock climbs. He returned to the sport in April with his doctor’s approval.

We were all proud that he waited to climb until he received the okay.

Connor sidles next to me, supporting Jane, asleep in the crook of his shoulder. “It’s perfect, darling.” I lace my fingers with his free hand. He kisses my knuckles.

“It has a good energy,” I say matter-of-factly.

“You packed candles, didn’t you?” His brow arches.

I did think about cleansing the lake house of bad spirits, but that’s not why I brought the candles. I may as well warn him. “I wanted to throw a co-ed slumber party and there are certain traditions t

hat can’t be ignored.”

“Like?”

“A séance, and light-as-a-feather stiff-as-a-board, facemasks, desserts, and maybe even the Ouija board if Lily’s not too frightened by then.” Before he spouts his disbelief in ghosts, I add my reasoning, “Apparently when we were younger, we always forgot about Daisy during slumber parties. She was there, but we’d leave her out somehow.”

It pains me even thinking that I forgot my sister, but I was so much closer to Lily, and the age gap just weakened my relationship with Daisy. I should’ve been more aware…

“She told you this?” Connor looks shocked.

“No.” Daisy would never cause me pain from her hurt feelings. “Ryke mentioned it to me a few weeks ago.” He knew that I’d want to make up for lost time with my sister.

Connor sighs. “Can we eliminate a spiritual event in favor of an intellectual one? It’d benefit greater society and us.”

“I’ll take your request into consideration and gladly ignore your slight at my slumber party,” I say and his grin expands.

“So I have this theory…” Daisy spins towards us, hand still clasped in her boyfriend’s. “If we buy a little mini-pig and see which bear forms a friendship with him, we’ve discovered Winnie the Pooh.” She extends her arms and bows theatrically.

I ask Connor, “Are you picturing the bear eating the pig?” The gory scene almost makes me want to root for the underdog to win, but a pygmy pig has zero chance of survival.

“Yes, but my image is probably less bloody than yours.”

“Then it’s incorrect.”

“A bear would eat anything as small as she’d described in one bite,” he retorts. “No blood, Rose.”

I roll my eyes, accepting this defeat. He’s right. I just unnecessarily constructed a grotesque butchery in my mind.