by J. A. Huss
I wave a hand after Rose to tell Rory to go first, relieved that she actually follows her, then glance back at the window, where Oliver is pacing outside the restaurant. That fucking kid. He thinks he’s got me. He thinks he’s in control—
“Are you coming or not?” Rory asks. And then she squints her eyes at the window and spots Oliver.
“Yes,” I say, walking towards her until I’m so close, she has to turn and continue into the dining room. Because this could go very wrong, very fast if I don’t get a few minutes to explain.
Lie. That’s what I really mean. I need to lie and calm her down.
We get the window table Rose promised, take our menus, and then, just as Rory is about to start in on me, the champagne arrives.
“Wow,” Rose says, as we wait for the champagne to be poured. “I can’t believe you two are here again. Remember that one time you guys gave your parents the slip on Christmas Eve? God, I think about that all the time. How romantic it was.” She actually sighs.
But it was romantic. And Rory knows it too. She glares at me, but her eyes are sad, not angry.
“It was the best day of my life,” I say, lifting up my glass. “I think about it all the time.”
Rory’s glare softens. Rose excuses herself. I nod my head to her glass of champagne. “Come on, let’s toast.”
Rory shakes her head slowly. “No. You don’t get to disappear for six years and then come home for a meeting, accidentally find out I’m in town, and then try to pull it off like it was all planned. Forget it, Aston. I might be blonde, but I’m not stupid.”
“Come on, Rory,” I say, flashing her my most charming smile.
“No, you come on, Five.” The way she says my name doesn’t conjure up visions of affection. “Just what the fuck?”
I glance around to see if anyone can hear us argue, but it’s not very busy today.
“I’m sorry, OK? That’s not how I planned things, it just got… complicated.”
“What got complicated? Me and you?”
“No,” I say. And goddammit, this isn’t the direction this conversation needed to go either. “Just… life, ya know?”
“Mmmhmm,” she says, her lips pressed together. “You came to town for a meeting and I’m screwing up all your plans. Does that about sum it up?”
Yes. That is a very succinct description of what’s happening right now. “No,” I lie. “I just didn’t know you’d be here—” She scoots her chair back, ready to get the fuck out of here. So I continue hurriedly. “But now that you are, Princess, I’m thrilled. How long can you stay? I do have a meeting in Denver tonight, but I’m coming back to FoCo to visit with everyone. And I was going to call you tomorrow and see if you’d like to meet up while I was in New York.”
“Passing through New York, you mean? On your way home to England?”
I sigh, feeling defeated. “Can you just please… cut me a break? Please? I need one, OK? How’s that for some reality? Shit’s gone weird and I’m here to try to fix it. I don’t want you involved, so I haven’t called—”
“Not one call!” she says, her eyes filling up with tears. “Not even a fucking Love Note!”
I have to stop and laugh at the mention of that old app I gave her for Christmas just before I left for Oxford. “Love Notes. You still have that thing?”
“Of course I still have it, you jerk! You made it for me! You promised me we’d keep in touch. You said you’d send me messages on it and what did I get? A big. Fat. Nothing!” The glare is back and she’s aiming it at me. “I think,” she says in a low, low whisper, “I hate you, Five Aston.”
Chapter Three - Rory
Five stares at me. Not grinning, but almost. Like he can’t help himself. Like he finds me cute. Like this is the best.
“Stop it,” I say, glaring back.
“Stop what?” His tone is teasing.
“That stupid look you’re giving me. It’s not funny, you asshole. I really fucking hate you.”
“I’m not laughing.” But he is. He’s definitely got that ‘you’re so cute’ look on his face.
“You left me, Five.”
He frowns.
“You left me and you never looked back. You made me a promise on Christmas Eve. The holiest of nights. The one night you don’t fuck around in the promise department. And then you went back on it.”
“Rory…” He sighs.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Do not Rory me, Five. OK?” I can feel all the pent-up emotions building inside me. The relief, the anger. A whole slew of feelings are ready to explode out of me right now just from seeing him again.
“Things just… came up,” he says. Quietly. Almost whispering. “And it’s not what you think.”
“What do you think I think?” I ask. “Do you think I’ve been sitting back here in the States picturing you with other women? Or partying your ass off? Or—”
“You know that’s not what I was doing, Rory.”
“No shit, Five. I’m not some pissed-off princess who gets jealous over stupid shit like that.” I stop. Because this is it, right? This is the moment when I finally have to admit what the problem really is. When I have to take a good, long look at my life, and my family, and what might be coming in my future and… face it. “Look,” I say, my voice lower now. Calmer now. “I’m not as sheltered as you think. I know what the deal is.”
He shakes his head. But I see resignation coming. I can almost feel it.
“My mom told me, Five.”
“Told you what?”
“She sat me down the night before I left for college and she told me everything. And maybe your dad did that too. I can only assume, since it’s something that happened to all of them. So cut the shit and just tell me what’s going on.”
He stares at me. Several long, silent seconds tick off.
“Why are you really here? And don’t say me.”
He looks down. Pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m… not sure yet.” He looks up, eyes bloodshot. Like he’s exhausted. Like whatever’s going on has been happening for a long time now. Like… he’s losing a battle.
“Tell me everything,” I say back, trying to keep my shit together. Because Five doesn’t lose. Five is a winner, just like his father. If they even start to think they’re gonna lose… well, let’s just say it gets handled.
He shakes his head. “No. Not yet. It could be nothing and I don’t want to start more shit than I have to.” I open my mouth to object, but he puts up a hand, silencing me. “Just let me go to Denver tonight and see, all right? Just let me get a better feel for it. And I promise, if I think it’s gonna go bad, I’ll explain in more detail.”
I wait a beat, thinking. Trying to decide if this is good enough or not.
“And whatever reason you’ve got stuck in your head about why I’m here… that’s not why I’m really here, Princess. I was gonna stop by New York on my way back, yes. To see you. To… to apologize. To make it right.”
“And now that I’m here instead?” I say. “Now what will you do?”
He shrugs. “I’m gonna stick around, obviously. For as long as you do, at least. If you think I cut contact because I wanted to, Rory… I didn’t. That’s not why. So just let me handle things. Don’t do anything yet. And tomorrow I’ll start making it up to you.”
“What’s that mean, exactly? I mean, really, Five. What’s that mean?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Not one who matters. Not when you’re here.”
He squints his eyes at me.
“Fuck you, Five Aston. Six goddamned years I’ve been wondering when you’d come back for me. Six. Goddamned. Years. I date, OK? What am I supposed to do? Be a fucking recluse? It’s Princeton, you know. Maybe not Oxford, but it’s fucking Princeton. Meeting people is part of the process. It’s all part of the reason people want to go to an Ivy League university in the first place. And I’d be a very stupid girl if I didn’t take advantage of that.”
He sighs. Slu
mps in his chair a little. “I know. It’s just… this is not how I pictured us, right? It was never going to happen like this, Rory. We talked about it that last time I was home. It was going to be college, then marriage, then family. And now it’s all fucked up.”
I reach across the table and take his hand. He watches me squeeze it, looks up at me and squeezes it back. He says, “I love you, ya know.”
There. That. Those three words are all I ever wanted to hear when he walked out and left me.
And it’s enough, I realize. My whole world is instantly right again. “I know.” I feel a tear slip out of my eye. Five reaches over and gently wipes it away with one fingertip.
“Don’t cry.”
But it’s too late. Just the words don’t cry are enough to make me cry.
I stand up—he does too, because that’s just how his father raised him. “I’ll be right back, OK?” I say. He’s still squeezing my hand. Even when I try to let go, he doesn’t. “I’m just gonna fix my makeup. Be right back.”
I pull back. He holds onto my hand for another moment, then lets my fingers slide past his as I turn and make my way to the back of the restaurant. Rose is busy with other customers, thank God, because the last thing I need is a friend asking about my tears.
When I get inside the bathroom, I stand in front of the mirror, my hands braced on the marble countertop, and stare at myself. “This is it,” I whisper. “This is the moment your mother warned you about.” And the worst part is, she’s a thousand miles away. With my dad. With Five’s mom and dad. Rook and Ronin aren’t even here. They’re visiting their family in France. So it’s just us kids. That’s it. Me and Five. Kate and Sparrow. Belle and Oliver.
Fuck.
Maybe I can convince Belle and Oliver that everything is fine. But not Kate and Sparrow. They both got “the talk” before they left for college too. Belle won’t get the truth until the end of summer. And Oliver, hell. He’s way too young to know about all the shit our parents did when they were my age.
The FBI, and the Company, and the lies, and the court appearances, and… the killing.
I shake my head. “No,” I tell the girl staring back at me. “No. This won’t happen to us. We’re different. We’re innocent. We’re just kids. We’re…”
But it might be happening.
What’s that old saying about the sins of my father?
Shakespeare, right? The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children. It’s even in the Bible somewhere.
People don’t forget things like that. Not these people. These people have long memories. These people don’t take kindly to threats. These people take care of people like us.
A knock at the bathroom door. “Rory?” Five asks from the other side. “You OK?”
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing a paper towel and dabbing at the smear of mascara on my face. “Be right there.”
I take a deep breath, straighten my Shrike Bikes t-shirt, and hold my head up high. “You got this, bitch,” I whisper to the girl in the mirror. “If these people want a fight, well… then it’s on.”
I turn away, open the door, and face Five, standing in the cramped dark hallway. “Come with me,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the back door. I go along, because it’s Five. And his commands mean everything to me.
We end up out in the alley. There’s noise from the back patio area of other restaurants, but no one in the immediate area. Five stops, pushes me back against the brick wall of Anna Ameci’s, and boxes me in with his hands on either side of my shoulders.
“Promise me,” he says, those light brown eyes blazing into mine. I give him an innocent princess look, but he shakes his head. “I know you better than anyone, Rory Shrike. So stop. I know what you’re thinking. I can practically read your mind.”
“Five—”
But he shushes me with a fingertip to my lips. “Just listen to me. And then, after I’m done, you say, ‘OK, Five. I promise.’ Got it?”
“What?” I sigh. There’s no point trying to stop his little speech. He’s a bulldozer when he’s like this.
“Do not do anything without talking to me first. Understand?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He gives me a look that says, Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.
“You’re not the boss of me, ya know.”
A small smile that turns into a laugh. “I am, Princess. And you know that. So just let me handle things.”
I shrug. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Rory,” he says, pressing his body against mine. And holy motherfucking Jesus. That might be enough to make me give in. It has been six long years since Five Aston kissed me and right now, I’d agree to anything just to feel the soft press of his lips on mine.
“Kiss me,” I whisper. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.”
He leans in, his hands on my shoulders now. His face pressing into my neck. His soft breath tickling my skin. “Promise me, Princess.”
“Kiss me,” I say it again. If he’s gonna get what he wants, well, then I’m gonna get what I want too.
“You give in first.”
I smile. This is so typically Five. “No. I’m the boss of me, Mr. Aston. Me. That’s the very first lesson my mommy taught me way back in pre-school. I call the shots.”
“Princess,” he whispers into my ear. It makes everything vibrate. It makes my whole body shiver. “I love you more than I can ever say. I want nothing more than to give you everything you want, including that kiss. But before I do, I need your word. I need to know you’re gonna let me handle this. I need assurances that you’re not gonna go home, grab one of those guns your mom keeps in her closet, and come back blazin’. So just give in, OK? Just give in to me, and tell me what I need to hear.”
“Kiss me,” I say again. “If you don’t give me what I want, I’m gonna”—my hand reaches down to the hard bulge hiding in his pants—“force it out of you.”
I can feel him smile into my neck. We’re different people now. I mean, we’ve always been these people. I’m just like my mom. Hot-tempered blonde bombshell, ready to explode. And he’s just like his dad. Control freak with a side of sexy. But this is who we are. Headstrong, and bossy, and competitive.
“You want a kiss?”
“Mmmhmm,” I say, closing my eyes as I picture it. God, I’ve dreamed of this moment for ages. “I really need one, Five.”
His mouth touches my earlobe. Lips caress the soft skin of my neck. “Like this?” he asks.
“Yes,” I practically moan. “Just… like… that.”
“Do you want more, Princess?” he asks, his voice low now. Growly. Filled with so much promise.
“More, please,” I say, in my sweetest princess voice.
“Then promise me, baby. Just say those two words. ‘I promise.’ And as soon as you do that, I’ll give you everything you want. OK?”
“Five,” I moan. “Just—”
His hands come up suddenly. He cups my face, stares into my eyes with the most sincere expression I’ve ever seen on him. And underneath that sincerity, I see… fear. “Promise me.”
“Five,” I say, unable to stop staring back. This is everything. Everything I’ve always dreamed of. Five pressing me up against a wall. Me, the only thing on his mind. Except I’m not the only thing on his mind, am I? No. Those creeps from the past are back. That’s why he’s here. And even though I’d normally not give in so easy, I know this is not a game. So I say, “I promise. Now stop talking, you stupid genius, and kiss me already.”
He smiles. Leans in. I close my eyes, ready for it. Finally gonna get what I want.
But then he moves his mouth to my ear and nibbles on my lobe. “Good girl,” he coos. “But I’m not sure I believe you, Princess. I can feel those wheels turning inside your head. They’re grinding hard.” He presses his hard cock against my hip when he says that last part. “So I’m gonna hold off on that kiss until I get back tonight. And if you’ve been good, a
nd if you’ve held up your end of the—”
“What?” I say, pushing him back. “You will do no such thing, Five Aston! I want a fucking kiss and I want one right now! I’ve waited six years for this, and denying me is practically emotional abuse. Now stop fucking around and kiss me, goddammit!”
“Who’s the boss of you, Rory?”
I huff out some air. “Me.”
He smiles. It’s a big, genuine, I’m-gonna-teach-you-who’s-boss smile. “Wrong answer.”
“You!” I say. “Fine, it’s you. Is that what you want? Me to give in? OK. I give. Now kiss me.” I’m practically begging now, but I don’t care. I need this kiss.
He backs away two steps.
“I’m warning you, Five Aston. You had better kiss me right the fuck now.”
“Or what?” he says, backing off two more steps. “Or you’ll fall out of love with me? You’ll go back to the boring boyfriend at Princeton?”
“I’ll do it,” I say, as defiantly as I can. But he doesn’t believe me. Hell, I don’t believe me. I am in love with this hot, weird, genius of a man and he knows that. I’ve been in love with him since kindergarten. There’s no other man for me. Not at Princeton. Not anywhere in this world.
There is only Five.
“You won’t do it. But you will behave while I’m gone. And tomorrow I’ll give you everything you want.” He reaches for my hand, picks it up, and brings it to his lips. The gentle kiss across the back of my fingers isn’t how I pictured this moment ending, but I melt.
I melt into a giant puddle of love-struck goo as he lets me go, turns his back, and walks away.
I blow out a giant breath of air and lean back against the ragged brick wall. Fucker.
“Oh, and Princess?” he asks, turning around as he walks backwards, smiling like the devil on a Sunday afternoon. “Just give in next time. You’ll get what you want so much quicker if you just admit I’m the boss.”
And then he turns, slips into the alley between buildings, and disappears.
Fucker!
“You’re not the boss of me!” I scream.