Hothouse Flower (Addicted #4)(46)

“Don’t take her too hard. She’s young and impressionable.”

I flip him off, standing to answer the call while he laughs.

I press the green button and walk further onto the peak of the rock. It’s flat, and up here, people gather to repel back down, the chatter echoing from one side to the other. I check my watch.

8 a.m. here. 2 a.m. there.

The line clicks and then dies. I frown. I look at my phone. She f*cking hung up on me? Maybe it was a misdial. I call her back.

Her answering machine cuts on this time. “Hi, it’s Daisy. Not Duck and not Duke. Definitely not Buchanan. I’m a Calloway. If you haven’t misdialed then leave your name after the beep, and I’ll call you when I return from the moon. Don’t wait around. It may take a while.” BEEP.

“Call me back or text me that you’re okay,” I say tersely before I hang up.

I’m about to return to Sully, but my phone rings again. She’s being f*cking weird. “Hey, what’s going on?”

She sniffs and tries to speak, but her voice falters.

She’s been crying.

My chest tightens. “Fuck. Daisy, what’s wrong?”

She lets out a breath that shakes the sound from her lips, and then she inhales sharply and chokes like she’s unable to exhale.

Fuck. Fuck. I rest my hand on my head. “Dais…”

“I…I can’t…”

She cannot have a f*cking panic attack while I’m here and she’s there.

“Shh, shh,” I tell her in the gentlest voice I can. Calming someone—that’s not a skill I possess. I jump after girls who dive off of cliffs. I accompany crazy chicks on their illogical adventures. I teach them how to stand back up. I hold them while they f*cking cry.

But I’m not there to do any of these things. I’m thousands of miles away with no room for error.

“Take deep f*cking breaths. Relax,” I say roughly, dropping my hand and clenching and unclenching my fist.

“I…feel sick…” She coughs, dry heaving until I hear her really f*cking vomit.

Fuck.

Sully is by my side with concern. He looks at me like what’s going on?

I just shake my head at him. “Daisy,” I say, running my hand through my damp hair. “Hey, you need to talk to me right f*cking now. Take deep breaths. You’re not dying, so stop acting like it.” Being a jackass is the only way I can think to get her to calm down. It’s the only f*cking tool I have to work with.

She pukes, but it turns back into a violent cough. Then she begins to breathe somewhat f*cking normally.

“Good girl,” I say.

She exhales shortly. “They took pictures…of me…and no one cared…”

What the f*ck is she talking about? She’s a model; of course they take photographs. “You’re not making any f*cking sense.” I can’t just stand on top of this f*cking cliff. I can’t just f*cking talk. I head over to Sully’s backpack, and he keeps up with my hurried stride.

“I was naked,” she says, a tremor in her voice. “The designer…she threw me out of her show, and she stripped me…”

You’ve got to be f*cking kidding me. I freeze, gripping my hair with one hand. “And no one did anything?”

She chokes on another cry.

I almost kick the f*cking cake off the edge. I almost lose my shit. I bend down to a crouch to stop myself from screaming. I f*cking hate people. I hate that the ones I care about most are the ones that get shit on.

“Hey, f*cking talk to me,” I say, realizing she’s completely silent now. “Daisy?” Nothing. “Daisy?!” I check my phone. Signal lost. The call dropped. I try again, but I have no more range. I look to Sully with panic.

“No signal,” he says, tapping at his iPhone screen.

I stand up quickly and switch into a new gear called Get the f*ck off this rock. “We need to go down now.” I pick up his backpack and find the extra harness that I use when I descend with him. I put each leg through the f*cking straps while Sully collects rope, repel devices and locking carabineers, his hands moving in a flash.

“Is she hurt?” he asks, his eyes flickering to me.

I tighten the straps on my legs. It’s not a physical hurt. It’s not like she crashed her motorcycle, but it f*cking feels like she got into a head-on collision. “I don’t know,” I tell him. Truth is, I think she’s always been hurting. It’s just different when I’m not there to take care of her. “I need to get her back on the f*cking phone.”

“Double your rope so you can get down faster.” He tosses me extra rope for my descent, and I tie two together with a Double Figure-8 Fisherman’s knot. Then I tie an extra knot at the end of the rope in case I f*cking fall. It’s the last safety I have to catch me.

“Ready,” Sully says. “I only have one anchor. You take it. I’ll go after you since I have to pick up my gear.”

I nod and hook into the anchor. I take a breath to relieve the pressure that bears down on my chest. As I stare at the 200 foot drop, everything f*cking clicks.

I am so emotionally involved with that girl. If someone told me she was crying two years ago, I would have called Lily or Rose to deal with it. But I want to be the one to protect Daisy. I want to be the one to hold her in my arms. I want to comfort her until she reanimates in pure f*cking happiness.