Long Way Down (Calloway Sisters 4)

They seem to near each other at the exact same time, both speaking hushed French. Connor clasps her hand and then kisses her forehead. He whispers another word or two, to which she whispers back. His grin envelops his face.

The vampire guy tosses the middle finger at Connor, right before shuffling away.

“Weak!” Lo yells at him, but I doubt he hears. I turn around to see if Ryke flipped the guy off, but he’s not beside me.

I rotate in a big circle. Lily is gone too.

“Lo?” I question. “Where’d Lily and Ryke go?”

His half-smile fades into dire seriousness. “Lily?!” he shouts, his voice almost taking on a desperate tone. “Lily?!”

I clutch my phone and then remember…I have no cell service.

A flapper girl opens the patio door through the kitchen, speaking loudly to another 1920s flapper. “…five people snuck through security who aren’t on the list. Marcie said they have a backpack full of stuff. They could’ve packed a gun—it’s ridiculous.”

“And I was going to hire this security team for my Christmas party.” She shakes her head, both hurrying towards the main exit.

Five people snuck through security. I text Ryke rapidly but it won’t send. Still no cell service, I’m suddenly hot and clammy. We need to find Ryke and Lily fast. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I jump.

It’s just Rose. Right beside me. I wipe my forehead with the back of my arm.

“We’re leaving,” Rose says, her back arched in battle.

“We can’t,” I say, and then she notices the two absent bodies. “Ryke and Lily are gone.”

RYKE MEADOWS

“Slow the fuck down.” I limp after Lily, using my cane to lengthen my fucking stride along the second floor hallway. I still have trouble catching her as she squeezes between bodies and slips beneath arms.

“You don’t have to follow me!” she calls back, squirming in her green tutu.

She needs to piss.

So badly that she left her husband’s side. I’m just glad I took my eyes off Connor and Rose for a single second to see her disappear.

“You’re right, I don’t,” I retort, “but I fucking am!” She turns towards a door and flings it open, rushing inside. As soon as I reach the doorway, she slams into my chest, trying to exit.

“Gogogogo,” she slurs, her whole face beet-red.

I look over her shoulder. She entered a bedroom. Two people wrestle beneath the covers with heavy grunts and moans. “Right there! Right there!” a girl wails.

Fuck. I step aside as quickly as I fucking can, which is not fast at all. Lily darts around me, and I shut the door.

“Can you relax for one fucking second?” I ask.

She shoots me a narrowed look. “I have to pee. It’s intense, and maybe you don’t understand my bladder, but it’s a real thing, Ryke.”

I rake a hand through my thick hair. “I know your bladder is fucking real. Look, there has to be a bathroom down this hall, and if you run around like someone lit your ass on fire, you’re going to run right past it.”

Lily has my lightsaber in her hand and pokes my chest with the blue tip. “You should be looking after Lo, not me.” In her green eyes, I see that she’s seriously confused about why I’d choose her over my brother right now. Why I’d follow her and leave him be.

I rip the lightsaber out of her clutch, remembering when I was in my early twenties. When I first met her. I said something to her at a New Year’s Eve party once. Something that I fucking regret. Because I know—right now—that it’s stayed with her for a longer time than it has stayed with me.

“I care about you,” I tell her like it shouldn’t be that crazy of a notion by now. “Not because you’re a part of my brother’s life but because you’re a part of mine. You’re my fucking friend. I love you, alright?”

She crosses her ankles with an I have to pee face but says in all seriousness, “I know we’ve all grown older together, but I haven’t really felt how much until now.”

I was set in my ways back then, ready to pick Lo over Lily, not understanding even a fragment of her own pain, and I was so closed-minded towards her—that I almost missed one of the people I love most. Right in front of me.

I’ve learned a lot since then, and I’m a better fucking person because of Lily Calloway.

I nod a couple times. “We’ve grown older.” I don’t think we’ll ever stop. It gives me fucking hope—that whatever I do wrong, I can fix. I can change. We all can over time.

“I have to start opening doors now.” She squirms again and tentatively peeks into each door. I follow close behind.

She whips her head beneath my arm.

“What is it now?”

“Someone is following us…or is that a shadow?” she squints.

I try to spin her towards the hallway but she’s really preoccupied with whoever is behind us. I glance over my shoulder, but it’s pretty empty.

In fact, the whole fucking hallway is emptying. The music also shuts off. “Didn’t you have to pee? Hurry the fuck up.”

She sighs, “Make up your mind. Am I going too slow or too fast?”

“You’re too fucking whatever,” I say vaguely, glancing behind us again. There is a shadow of a person in the corner. A chill pricks my neck.

I keep a hand on Lily’s shoulder as she shuffles to the next door. “What if someone heard you say that you ‘love me’ in the middle of the hall? Should we prepare for the blowback?” Her eyes grow big and wide up at me. “Did you pat my shoulder? I can’t remember—did we hug?”

“Get it together.” I need her in one piece, mentally, physically. I realize how fucking harsh my voice is right now, so I add, “In a nice way.”

She peeks into another room. “Maybe we should be more aware of saying things and touching in public?” I know she doesn’t want another headline about us. I don’t either, but she’s mended something with Daisy that’s not going to crumble that quickly.

“We’re just fucking friends.”

I don’t even realize I cursed until she cringes. She only does that when I call her a “fucking” friend. “It’s not about my sister or me,” she says. “Just Moffy and your baby. We don’t want them to be hassled about this.” Lily and I have the most platonic girl-guy relationship, but it’s not a brother-sister kind. People have always twisted it out of fucking proportion.

As much as it kills me—as much as I want to say I don’t fucking care—I really have no idea what these kinds of headlines will do to our kids. Even if they let it go, will their classmates?

“Whatever happens in the fucking future,” I tell her, “it doesn’t change us, okay?”

She nods, resolute with this idea.

I glance behind us again. This time, five guys in black clothes and zombie makeup appear, mostly just leaning against the fucking wall. One of them opens a backpack…

“Found it,” Lily says, slipping into the bathroom.

I have a bad fucking feeling, and so I follow her inside and lock the door. Lily is already on the toilet, and she gasps at my sudden presence.

She didn’t even shut

the fucking door, so I don’t know why she’s surprised. “I’m peeing!”

“And I’m not fucking looking,” I tell her, eyeing the light beneath the doorway. Then I grab my phone, no signal to call anyone.

I wait for a second, hearing nothing. “Lily—”

“I think I have pee fright.”

For fuck’s sake. “What can I do to help your pee fright?”

“Cover your ears.”

Fine. I cover my ears with my hands, waiting for her to piss. About a minute or two later, she squeezes towards the sink, and I drop my hands.

The warm glow beneath the door just goes completely black. Like the hallway lights shut off. Lily dries her hands on a towel.

“Ready?” I ask, trying to stifle my fucking paranoia. Thanks, Rose. I remember her whole pact before we left. It’s messed with my head.

“Yeah.” She stands by my side, and I open the door, to be met with the flesh-eaten faces of five fucking zombies, standing mere feet from us. Before I can speak or react, they all launch something at our heads. I can’t even block Lily. It smacks against my jaw and explodes.

Lily screams.

“Lily?” I cough, white clouds bursting around us. I instantly shut my eyes, the chalky substance stinging my gums and tasting like baking soda and flour.

I waft the air, footsteps banging against the floor as the five guys run away from us. Laughing. They’re fucking laughing.

I could fucking kill them, but there’s a twenty-six-year-old girl beside me, who was just pelted in the face too. I cough and reach for her hand. I grab air. I open my eyes, wafting the plume of white dust.

“Lily?”

She hacks up a lung on the floor.

I instinctively try to crouch. “Motherfucker,” I grit, my right knee bending too far. Motherfucker. My eyes water from the pain.

“OhmyGod,” Lily mumbles. She wipes at her face and hair. “Oh my God, Ryke.”

My mouth is fucking stinging and searing. I start sweating. “Stand up,” I tell her. I grip the door frame.

She wobbles to her feet. “Ryke.” Her whole face is white, large clumps of flour in her hair. “My mouth…” Her tongue is caked with the shit, much more than mine.