Some Kind of Perfect (Calloway Sisters 5)

I cross my arms. “I wasn’t trying to be accurate. I just wanted you to talk, which was a success.”

“A partial success, darling,” Connor chimes in. “I hadn’t said anything yet.”

I gag. “Your ego is revolting.”

He can’t restrain his stupid grin. I find myself eyeing his lips too much, so I focus back on Ryke. “Then what were you two gossiping about?”

“Sex.”

I roll my eyes. “Typical.” Though I don’t mention how my sisters and I talk about sex often. It’s not just a guy thing.

As Sullivan stirs again, Daisy rocks her a little more. “Will you watch her this Saturday? Just for a couple hours?”

My heart swells. “I’d love to. I’ll save you from all the evil cries.”

Daisy mock gasps. “Did you just call my baby evil?”

“Her cries,” I refute. “That only makes her part-evil.”

Daisy breaks into a wider smile. Whatever my sisters need, I will be there faster than a fucking roadrunner.

I flinch as the door finally bursts open.

About time. Loren crests the doorway with Lily by his side. I frown deeply. Why is she shielding half her face with her hand?

Loren whispers in her ear, and they break apart to sit at the now vacant heads of the table.

“What’s going on?” My voice spikes an octave. I rise in my four-inch black heels.

“Looks like Lily and I dethroned you and your husband.” He swings his head to Connor. “Thanks for keeping this warm for me, love.” He even takes a sip of Connor’s coffee.

My husband’s features are unreadable and mostly trained on Lily. He even takes out his cellphone. Ryke is seconds from pushing himself to a stance.

“This isn’t about seating assignments,” I retort. “But let’s be clear, Connor and I always sit at the heads of the table.” I snap at him to move.

Loren gives me a dry look. “Be careful, Queen Rose, you might break a talon.”

I growl and then collect my thoughts. He’s distracting you, Rose. From the real problem. My sister. Something’s wrong with my sister.

“Lily?” I say. “What’s wrong…?” I trail off as a male intern enters the conference room with a bag of ice. He sets it on the desk by Lily and then hurries out without a word.

I gasp as Lily drops her hand to clutch the ice.

“What the fuck?!” Ryke yells before I can.

She fumbles with the ice before pressing it to her red, swollen eye, a greenish bruise beginning to form. “I’m alright! No one freak out.”

“Too fucking late,” Ryke curses, already standing. Connor is on his feet too, typing quickly on his phone. Baby still in her arms, Daisy rolls on her chair over to Lily, both exchanging a few quiet words.

I whip my head to Lo. “Someone attacked her?” That’s it. I march around the table, find my Chanel purse on a chair, and rummage for my cellphone.

“Whoa—everyone stop for a second.” Lo has to shout louder because I’m not stopping. “Jesus Christ, stop, everyone!”

We all go still.

Lo isn’t joking anymore, his daggered eyes flashing hot. “Did you ever think that maybe we already took care of it?”

Now I am.

“How?” Connor asks. “Did you call lawyers?”

“Yes.”

“Did you contact police?”

“Yes,” he forces. “And you don’t even know what happened yet.”

“I got punched,” Lily tells us, and I have to force myself to stay put and not walk heatedly out the door and decapitate this motherfucker. “By a…thing.”

I frown, feeling Connor casually sliding closer to me. I grip the top of the chair so hard that my nails leave imprints in the leather.

“A thing?” I question. “What thing?” My blood simmers, picturing vile humans punching her—someone so grotesque she can’t even utter his name. “I’m going to strangle him,” I sneer. “Then remove his eyeballs, roast them over a fire, and shove them back in his mouth.”

Loren cringes. “And I thought my mind was a hellhole.”

Ryke pushes past the table towards the door.

I walk swiftly after him, securing my purse on my arm like a weapon. Let’s get this motherfucking asshole—Connor blocks us at the glass door.

He’s the most infuriating human.

“Move, Richard,” I say forcefully.

“Listen to Lo. He said he took care of it.”

I cross my arms. “Not to my satisfaction.”

“What you find satisfying, darling, is called illegal and a fantasy.”

I glare. “My nails ripping into his throat won’t be a fantasy if you would just move.”

“Are you feeding him his eyeballs or ripping out his jugular? You can’t have both.”

“I can. Watch me—or don’t watch me, Richard. I don’t care what you do as long as you don’t stand in my way.”

Ryke takes a step forward. Connor sets a hand on his chest and tells us both, “Let’s remove murder from our list of options on how to handle this situation.”

We’re both angry and upset. Of course we wouldn’t murder anyone, but we’d cause a shit storm until justice is served. In our circle, Lily is an easy target. She appears small and vulnerable, and I feel like it’s partly my role to protect her. Maybe Ryke feels that way too.

And we failed.

Ryke points furiously at the window that overlooks Philadelphia, blinds snapped closed. “They can’t fucking hit any of us.”

“Security has the guy!” Lo shouts. “I told you, it’s already goddamn handled!”

Ryke and I exchange a look of surrender, and we ease away from the door. I take a seat beside my sisters while the guys remain standing at the other end.

Connor pockets his cell. “You’re charging him?”

Lo’s jaw tenses. “With assault.”

“And then we burn his balls,” I add.

Lo tries hard not to smile. “Unfortunately the best we can hope for is a few weeks in jail.”

“It sets a precedent,” Connor says. We haven’t been able to charge anyone for flour-bombings, and this’ll be the first time we can swing an iron gavel. It’ll make a difference, even if it’s just a small one.

Closer to Lily, I inspect her eye. She drops the ice bag, letting me have a look. It’s terrible. Her eyelid even threatens to swell closed.

“I’m going to kill him,” I mutter. I can’t help it. His hypothetical death makes me feel better.

“If it’s any consolation, he didn’t actually punch me.” She squirms in her chair, red flush rising on her neck.

What?

Ryke stiffens. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Lo returns to his seat. “It means someone threw a dildo at her face.”

The room falls into a heavy wave of silence for two agonizing seconds. It only breaks when I stand from my chair, and Ryke turns towards the door.

“Heyheyhey!” Lily yells at us, even gripping my wrist to stop me. “Hot-tempered triad, cease!”

I roll my eyes but sit back down.

“We need to start airing more episodes of the fucking docu-series,” Ryke says roughly. “It could’ve prevented this.”

We’re the producers of We Are Calloway.

We control everything. We can frame the conversation how we like.

I remember the headlines after the first episode aired:

Daisy Meadows Tells Her Inspiring and Heartbreaking Story. She talked about the Paris riot and growing up modeling.

Ryke Meadows and His Lonely Past. He talked about hiding his familial ties to protect his father’s reputation.

Lily & Loren Open Up: Relationships & Sex Addiction. They discussed, briefly, how they enabled each other as teenagers and fell deeper into their addictions.