Long Way Down (Calloway Sisters 4)

“Spit,” I tell her, both of us inhaling this. I rub beneath my nose, and she tries to spit but does a piss ass job. “Come here.”

She shuffles into the bathroom, and I turn the sink on. In the mirror, I see how badly covered I am, my hair practically gray; my jaw, nose, and lips dusted. My eyes are bloodshot like Lily’s.

“My face is burning,” she says, waving her hands at her cheeks.

Mine too. “Stick your face beneath the water.”

She’s crying while the water runs, trying to rinse her mouth out.

She doesn’t usually cry like this—like she’s in pain. “What’s wrong, Lil? Fucking talk to me.” I have to lean my weight against the sink, and I keep a hand on her back, pulling her hair out of the way. I spit on the side of the counter, away from her, this shit caked in my throat.

She aggressively rubs her face. Frantic all of a sudden.

“Lily!” And then I lick my lips. Numb. My whole mouth is going numb. I can practically feel my heart pounding out of my fucking chest. I’m in a hot sweat. I’ve had this happen…before. Once when I was a teenager and tried something…Fuck.

Cocaine.

They mixed cocaine with the baking soda or flour.

We just inhaled and ate who-the-fuck-knows how much.

I realize that she already knows what this is, maybe even before I did. “Lily, calm the fuck down.” I start removing my clothes, the tunic, the slacks—I don’t fucking care.

I rip it all off. Just in charcoal gray boxer-briefs.

Lily drenches her hair, panting heavily. “There’s a cat in the window.” She touches the mirror.

Shit.

I grab a towel from a basket, wishing we were in a full bath with a shower. Not a half-bath with nothing but the sink and toilet. I push the towel at her face, a little too hard, but she’s in a fucking delirious hallucination anyway.

She keeps the towel there, like it’s sending her to Narnia.

I splash water at my face, getting it everywhere. The only upside to right now is that Daisy wasn’t with me—but what if they found her first?

What if we were just a fucking pit stop on their way to them?

She’s pregnant.

“We need to go,” I tell Lily, grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the bathroom. It’s only halfway down that I realize I’ve forgotten my cane.

I’m going to fuck up my already fucked-up leg. Because I can’t feel pain anymore. Or any resistance. And it’s not strong enough to carry my full weight.

“I think we’re lost. I think we’re going the wrong way.”

“I think you need to shut the fuck up,” I say. “Wait a second. Let’s go this way.” I tug her in a new direction. “Did we go this way?” We’re both talking over each other, and I’m sweating, my hair dripping with water from the sink.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Ryke!”

I grab at Lily’s arm, who bumped into a wall. “Lily.” I’ve never been so fucking disoriented. Except maybe the last time I snorted coke, which was the first time.

Lily pats her cheeks. “I can’t feel anything.” She spins around like she’s chasing her own tail. “Zombie!”

“Where?” I spin with her.

“Jesus Christ.” The familiar voice hits me before I see Lo sprinting towards us with Connor. “Lily!” Lo screams. “Lily!”

“Lo!” Lily screams back and she instantly starts crying. “Lo!”

They connect like they’ve lost each other for centuries. Their arms fly around each other, and he immediately lifts her up in a front-piggyback.

I keep licking my lips.

“Ryke,” Connor repeats my name a couple times.

“Where’s Daisy?!” I shout at him. “Where the fuck is she?!”

He clutches my face so I’ll focus only on him, his expression grave. “Your pupils are dilated.” He pauses. “What’d they throw at you?”

Lily is muttering in Lo’s shoulder, clinging tightly to him. He rubs her back, but his concentration edges towards us.

“Ryke!” Connor shouts, my face still in his hands.

“Cocaine and flour,” I say.

Lo looks like he might kill someone.

I don’t think that’s me hallucinating either.

My heart is on fucking broil. I breathe heavily—like I can’t breathe. But I’m fucking breathing. I’m not making any sense, am I? “Where’s Daisy? She’s pregnant.” I say like they have no fucking clue.

“She’s in the limo with Rose, Garrison, and your sister. Everyone’s fine except Lily and you,” Connor explains quickly. “Where’s your cane?”

I shake my head.

“Lean on me,” Connor says. “Don’t lean on your right leg.” He puts his arm around my waist, and I try to rest my weight against him.

“Connor,” Lo says, his voice nearly hysterical. I lift my bloodshot fucking eyes up to my little brother. And I realize he’s staring right at me.

I touch my numb fucking face, and when I bring my hand down, I catch a glimpse of red on my fingers.

My nose is bleeding.

DAISY MEADOWS

The emergency room is overcrowded on Halloween. I’ve already seen a real severed arm and an axe in a thigh from Lily and Ryke’s side-by-side beds, the curtains pulled back to reveal the hustle and bustle of the hospital.

Nothing is as scary as thinking Ryke overdosed.

His heart rate is just now slowing down, after three hours. I fixate on his vitals and comb his hair out of his face. He wouldn’t let me touch him until after he was sanitized in a hospital shower. Lily had to follow suit, both now in paper gowns. They were admitted overnight for observation.

There aren’t enough rooms available to move out of the emergency wing yet. So we’re stuck here for a while.

His brows furrow more all of a sudden.

“Your leg?” I wonder. The doctors strapped his leg on a board when he arrived, so he’d stop carelessly bending it.

“It feels like shit.”

“You can probably ask for pain meds…” I trail off while he shakes his head.

“No, Dais. I won’t.”

I understand. He didn’t let me see him struggle when he weaned off oxycodone, but he had night sweats and threw up a couple times. Ryke rarely complains, so I can only guess how dizzy and sick he felt.

Connor is on the phone with the police, closer to the nurse’s station than to the hospital beds. Rose paces right beside him, on the phone with our parents. Lily has told her to leave multiple times and take care of the kids, but she’s hesitating to ditch us.

Garrison and Willow left about an hour ago, so it’s just the six of us.

I can’t stop thinking about what happened, but maybe not more than Lo. He’s been sitting at the foot of Lily’s bed, staring at his Peter Pan hat in his hands.

I thought for sure he’d make a comment like you can dress them up but you can’t take them out or what a goddamn birthday, huh?

He hasn’t said a word about it.

“Can you sit down, Dais?” Ryke asks.

“I’m okay.” I touch my baby bump. We’re all okay.

“You’ve been standing for the past three fucking hours.” He makes room on his bed and brushes some of the machine’s wires out of the way.

I decide to take a seat if he’ll feel better by it. “What’s wrong with Lo?” I whisper to Ryke, who begins stroking my hair, cuddling me in the crook of his arm.

I’m supposed to be taking care of him, but he can’t turn it off. His love for other people. Such a nurturer, that Ryke Meadows.

He stares at Lo with understanding and brotherly concern, but before he speaks, police suddenly march past the nurse’s station. Both Connor and Rose hang up their cellphones and follow the police, who sidle up to Lily’s bed.

Lo clutches her hand while she whispers to him, “Are they going to arrest me?”

Lo tilts his head. “You

didn’t do anything wrong, silly.”