Long Way Down (Calloway Sisters 4)

??You seem very benignant for a bodyguard.”

Price frowns. “Very what?” I can’t tell if he truly doesn’t understand the word or if he doesn’t understand why Connor would call him that.

“Benign. Nonmalignant. Harmless,” Connor replies. I almost wait for him to spout off the origin of each word. “In other words, you’re shorter and younger than any of our other bodyguards. Also a little less built.” He never elaborates on what this could mean or why Greg hired him of all fucking people.

“I might be young, but I’m good at what I do.”

“That’s yet to be seen and may rely on which definition of good we’re using. Yours or mine.” Connor sips his wine, his arrogant aura clouding my space.

Still, I’m a little fucking glad he interjected himself into this. It’s not all in my head.

Connor continues, “While it pains me to agree with someone who prefers to forgo modern conveniences so he can drink milk from the carton”—I glower at him; forget everything I just thought—“Ryke has a point.”

Or not.

“We’re on a plane,” Connor says, more calmly and eloquently than me. “Unless one of Daisy’s sisters turns homicidal in the next three hours, she’s safe while you sit with the other bodyguards.”

Price bears down on his teeth, his face strict and tense. He nods once before heading to the back of the plane, passing through blue curtains to another side with couches.

“You’re welcome,” Connor says.

I roll my eyes. “I was fucking dealing with that.”

“Not well.”

I’m too frustrated to banter or even entertain him with words. “Fuck off.”

Connor finishes off his wine with a large gulp. He places the glass on an empty tray table by the window. “While we’re trading favors…” He rolls up the sleeves of his white button-down. “Since the moment you went into the bathroom to have sex—”

“I’m trying to get her fucking pregnant,” I say lowly and more roughly than usual.

“I realize that.” His voice is calmer, and he scrutinizes my facial muscles and posture way too long.

“Stop psycho-fucking-analyzing me,” I whisper in a growl.

Connor blinks like that sentence was more annoying to him than I even realize. “My brain tries to retaliate every time you insert fuck into an actual word.” He adds, “Is Daisy okay?”

He sees my concern. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “We’ll see.”

I don’t give him more than that, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes, which he usually just does in my presence. “Like I was saying before, since you went into the bathroom, Lo has been in the back cabin.” He pauses while my adrenaline rises. “He’s been on the phone with Hale Co. and I can’t get him to end the call.”

It’s a major admittance for Connor, and my muscles bind all over again. Without even a question, I quickly walk down the aisle. We had a rule for the trip. No work. Everyone was supposed to delegate their duties to their assistants and advisors before we left.

It’s the holidays, and if Loren and Lily can’t figure out how to manage their businesses and spend time with Moffy and family now, then they may never find balance.

Connor keeps my pace.

“Did you try yanking the phone out of his hand?” I ask.

“I’m not going to physically pry a cellphone from his fingers, no. I asked nicely, and that didn’t seem to work. So I thought you’d be useful. Your language is more uncivilized than mine.” He always makes me do this with Lo. He can’t bear to ruin his friendship, so he piles this shit on me.

“I’m fucking sick of being the bad guy here.” I slip through the curtains, the bodyguards all chatting on the couches, some playing cards.

They look up briefly at us, but we don’t say a word. I open the cabin door, not leaving much time for Connor to reply in privacy. So he stays quiet.

I imagine I’ll see my brother pacing. Twisting his wedding ring. A phone to his ear, aggressively switching between glaring at the ceiling to condemning the carpet with his amber eyes.

When Lo comes into full view and the door shuts behind us—I’m…shocked.

He’s sitting on the queen-sized bed, a large block toy and multi-colored block letters scattered on the sky blue comforter. His son lies on his stomach beside him, picking up various blocks with interest.

“Try these, little man.” Lo passes a couple letters to Moffy. When my brother notices us, his gaze narrows at Connor. “Seriously? I thought you were the smart one, love. I told you I was fine.” He rubs Moffy’s dark brown hair. “Paul O’Hare was just being a helpless dickhead.”

“Dickhead!” Moffy laughs excitedly and shoves the letter L into its correctly-sized slot.

Lo cringes. “I should’ve seen that one coming.”

I turn to Connor, pissed he alarmed me for nothing. Lo is fine…but Connor is zoned in on the corner of the room, not on me. His expression is blank, hardwired to bar emotions from passing through.

I follow his gaze anyway.

Lily sits cross-legged on the ground. No chairs are in this cabin, just the bed, and she squints hard at the book in her hands. I recognize the spine—the same book she gifted Connor for Christmas. The same one he returned with his annotations. Chronicles of Narnia.

She focuses on the text, avoiding us.

The cabin is small, but she’s still Lily. And that’s still Loren. They’re almost always next to each other, side-by-side, squashed with arms tangled everywhere. The queen bed is large enough that she’d normally be right beside her husband and son.

It’s just fucking weird. Seeing her on the floor.

“You can both stop staring at me,” she says softly, never raising her head. “I can feel your eyeballs…or the burn from them. Whatever you call it…” She hoists the book a little bit to cover her face that turns bright red in shame.

My stomach caves. “What the fuck are you doing on the floor?” I ask.

“Staying away from Lo.” Then she drops the book on her lap and gently closes it. A second passes before she gains the strength to meet my eyes. “I know we had this whole ‘delegation’ rule before we left, but the person I delegated my work to decided on taking a last minute trip to Vegas. So I’ve been on the phone with five different Halway Comics marketing interns to see if one of them can handle the holiday ads for Vic Whistler in Fourth Degree. I’m putting faith in a bunch of college kids that aren’t being paid and who I’ve never even met.”

Her face reddens more at the thought, only this time I can tell it’s from being upset.

“I’m going to fuck this up,” she says, “I know it. I just have to stay away from Lo for a little bit because the only thing that sounds good right now is sex.” She doesn’t blush at the word. “And I’m pretty aware that I can’t self-medicate with sex when I feel like everything is out of control. So…there.” She lets out a final breath.

I’ve never actually seen her admit to having cravings. Not outright. Not this direct or honest. Not to a room filled with Connor, Lo, and me.

I see her fucking strength. Even if she feels like shit right now. I see it.

“If it makes you feel better,” I tell her, “I had sex on the plane with Daisy, and her new bodyguard overheard us.”

She tries hard not to smile. “No…”

“Fucking yes.” I run a hand through my hair again. “This day fucking sucks—and not like that.”

She smiles for real. “Isn’t he…twenty-three?”

“Twenty-two,” Connor corrects.

I pinch my eyes, sick of glowering at him and the floor and everything else. I feel like my little brother. “Why would Greg hire him?”

“Because it’s Greg,” Lo says from the bed. “He hired a disgusting pervert to be Lil’s therapist without knowing.” I remember that.

Lily shakes her head quickly. “He felt really badly about that. He even apologized to me, and I don’t think he’d make the same mistake twice.”

“That?

??s yet to be proven,” Connor says, leaning an arm against the wall, his ankles leisurely crossed.

Lo lets out a short, dry laugh. “This is why you’re not his favorite son-in-law.” No one says the real reason Connor dropped from Greg’s pedestal.

Greg Calloway came to terms with the fact that Connor has slept with men in his past, but the news unfortunately slanted Greg’s view of him. It never fucking changed mine. He’s still the same conceited, billion-dollar douchebag that I’ve always hated and loved.

“He’s testing me.” I extend my arms. “I fucking know it. I’m about to marry his daughter, so he goes and hires some young bodyguard that could take my place. Maybe he thinks I’ll be jealous and drive his daughter away or maybe he thinks Dais will cheat—anything to fucking show how we’re not ready for this commitment.”

I don’t believe either thing will happen, but the uncertainty of Price’s motivations is a stress neither of us need.

Everyone goes quiet, and then Lily raises her hand.

“We’re not in a classroom, love,” Lo says with a growing smile. He eyes her like he’d love to join her in the corner—just to be closer.

“It was really quiet,” Lily mutters. She does this hair-flip thing that Rose does with more gusto. On Lily’s shoulder-length hair, it’s comical but maybe even more endearing. “I have an alternate theory.” She clears her throat. “What if he’s a spy?”

Lo starts laughing first.

Lily frowns. “Hey! It’s a good guess.” Dais would probably think so too. She almost puts her hands on her hips, but they fall to her lap. “Think about it. Dad isn’t just losing Daisy. He’s losing all of us. Rose, Poppy, and me too. We’re traveling together, building families, and with fans against us, maybe he feels like he’s in the dark. Having someone like Price following Daisy around is a good excuse to keep tabs on us.”

Fuck.

I squat for a second, knocked in the chest—just hoping he didn’t hear our talk in the bathroom. If he’s supposed to be spying, he’ll relay it all to Greg.

“What happened?” Lo asks me, worry spiking his voice.

I stand up and rub my mouth. “Dais and I were talking about making babies in the bathroom, and Price was outside the door.”