Page 47 of Five

Rory’s bed is a modern take on a traditional white canopy, complete with white netting over the top and the fluffiest pink down comforter you can imagine.

I flop down on the bed and look up at the little foil stars I made her when I was eight.

And smile.

She never took them down either. They are all swaying from my flop. Stray bits of light leaking in from outside make them sparkle. They used to have glitter. And back when we were kids, they’d sparkle like a motherfucker. But I think most of that glitter has fallen off by now.

Still, they’re like stage props. Up close they look their age. They look like they’ve been used a thousand times before. Like they are a thousand years old. But from far away, they are whimsical and perfect.

I’ve been up here plenty of times, even though Spencer did his best to keep me away. He’s not a dumb guy. Not at all. He’s kind of a genius in his own right.

But come on. I’m Five Aston.

Once I get a thing in my head, there’s just no stopping me. He should know that by now.

My first unauthorized visit to her bedroom, I was seven. My family was here for the annual Fourth of July party. Everyone was here. Even my oldest sister, Sasha, came. And that crazy motherfucker Merc. And insane Uncle James.

How did Rory grow up so innocent and sweet when all the family assassins dropped by for the holidays on a regular basis? I mean, I figured that shit out pretty early.

Of course, I hacked into my dad’s first secret office in the house by the time I was six. And she… well, the first word that comes to mind when I think of my little princess is… sweet. Then comes trusting. And, if I’m being honest right now, a little bit naive.

Anyway, that first visit I came in through the window. Hence the need for tree limb and rooftop cameras.

But Jesus Christ, it was a great night.

All the adults were a little tipsy by the time it was dark enough for fireworks. My dad has a thing for explosives, so Fourth of July was the perfect opportunity to put his skills to use. He and Spencer would be busy for weeks planning beforehand. And we’d sit out on the lawn and watch. Back then Rory’s little sisters were a handful for Spencer and Ronnie. Too young to take your eye off them. And Sparrow wasn’t invited into the Kate and Rory Club yet. She was glued to her mother at the time.

But Kate has been my partner in Princess crime since the very beginning. She’d help me out in all kinds of ways. They were up here in Rory’s bedroom putting on princess costumes before the show. She knew I was coming and excused herself for the bathroom so I could have some alone time with Rory.

I came in through the open window, wearing my little kid version of a suit—dark blue shorts and a white polo. Kate nixed the tie before we left home, but I still think it would’ve been a nice touch. She said I looked like I was going to school, not a summer party. So I relented. But she was wrong. Our school uniform was blue pants with a green polo. Totally different.

“Hey,” I remember saying. “What’re you doing, Princess?”

She stared up at me with those wide blue eyes and smiled. “My dad is going to shoot you if he sees you coming in my window.”

I shrugged it off because even though Spencer Shrike is kinda scary when you’re seven, he’s still not gonna really shoot a kid. Especially one with the last name Aston.

“I wanted to see if you’d like to watch the fireworks with me.”

“Of course.” She giggled. “I always watch the fireworks with you, Five.”

“No,” I said. “I mean, out there.” And I hiked my thumb over my shoulder, pointing to the roof.

She gave me a sidelong look that was so adorable, I just wanted to take her hand and squeeze it.

And that’s how we spent that night. Watching our fathers put on a show that was good enough to be a city production. Those bursting red sparks high in the sky were a metaphor for my heart. She made it explode with love.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” I say to the aged tin-foil stars dangling above my head. “I just meant…” But fuck it. I can’t even tell her what I meant. Because if she knew what kind of a guy I really was, she’d probably walk away from me and never look back. She’d choose some dumbass like Cliff Middleton instead of me. And then I’d have to watch her. I’d be forced to watch her go through all those milestones meant for us. Engagement. Marriage. Honeymoon. First house. Pregnancy. Children.

I’ll miss out on all of that if I don’t find a way out of this mess. If I don’t keep all those secrets hidden. If I can’t keep her from finding out why I really walked away six years ago and never came back.

It makes me feel very alone in this moment. Not even Kate knows what I did back then. Not even my dad knows, and I have never kept secrets from him. Not even when I made my first million off an app when I was fourteen. An unauthorized app. Illegal, if you want to get technical.

But by that time, it was too late, wasn’t it? I was in deep by then. Way too deep to just turn it all off and choose another path.

I take out my phone and find the app I gave Rory for Christmas the year I left for Oxford. Love Notes, it’s called. It’s filled with all kinds of pre-written nerdy teenage boy love declarations.

But it also had a special feature on my administrator version. A camera add-on that I never sent to her because it would’ve given me secret access to everything on her phone. And even though I’m a devious little fucker on the best of days, I couldn’t spy on her like that.