“I have a little time to waste. The meeting with Wen isn’t until next week.”
Chen’s mad about that too. But he has the good sense to leave it alone. We’ve been over and over this meeting several times over the past few days. I told him Wen wants to make a deal in our favor. He’s finally crossing over to the dark side. Most of the officers in the Hong Kong Organized Crime and Triad Bureau are already on the mob payroll. Wen and his small group of do-gooders are the last holdouts. Chen knows if we can get Wen on our side, we’ll be infinitely more powerful. So he’s torn. And he stays silent.
A knock on the glass doors make us both look at the same time. The butler enters with my bags. “Here you are, Mr. Aston.”
“Thank you,” I say, standing up and buttoning my suit coat.
“Your car is waiting outside,” the butler says.
“You’re leaving now?” Chen asks.
“Now,” I say, striding over to the butler. He picks up my bags and we leave Chen standing in the conservatory.
Outside, the Porsche is waiting, as promised. It’s nice. A ’61 silver 718/RS Spyder that my grandfather probably never drove, simply looked at on occasion. The mechanic was clearly against me taking it on a road trip through the Rocky Mountains when I told him to get it ready this morning before the funeral.
But fuck it. If you’re gonna go down, you might as well go down in style.
My two bags—just an overnight satchel and a spare suit in a garment bag—are placed on the passenger seat as I lower my sunglasses and get in.
I leave them all behind, squealing the tires on the smooth concrete driveway. With any luck, I’ll never see this place again.
The trip will be short. I’m not driving a three-million-dollar car to Colorado. These people must be crazy to let me even consider it.
A small smile creeps out as I wind my way through the hills, hugging the corners of the twisting road, and then head up El Camino Real to the McClellan-Palomar Airport in Carlsbad.
A small jet is waiting on the tarmac, as is my father, the infamous Rutherford Aston IV. Einstein-level mastermind of pretty much everything that has kept his family and friends safe over the past twenty-three years.
I’m counting on his genius to pull off the impossible one last time.
“Dad,” I say, getting out of the car and handing the keys over to a waiting attendant.
“Get in,” he says, panning a hand to the jet. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, Five.”
Chapter Twenty-Four - Rory
“Hey.” I grab Mia in the hallway before she can jet past me. “Have you seen Tera? I’ve been playing phone tag with her all week.”
Mia shrugs me off and keeps going. “I’m late for class and Jeremy is waiting for me outside. Saw her this morning.” And then she disappears out the front door.
I look around, but it’s been quiet all week. I get that school started back up and everyone is busy… but it’s almost too quiet.
Tera never showed up for our one AM meeting last Saturday. And when I went to her room the next morning, she was already gone. Kallie said she was out with Brian. OK. I get it. He’s her pairing, or whatever. And it was all brand new. Hell, Frank has been by to see me every day too. But then she called me back after I left a message. So I called again on Monday. And Tuesday. She finally returned that call—which was a relief because I was starting to seriously worry something had happened to her—but I was in class, so I couldn’t pick up. And she knew I’d be in class.
So… is she avoiding me?
“Hey, Rory.”
I turn around to see Frank walking across the main foyer.
“Hi,” I say. I’ve been doing my best to act cool this week, but he’s really getting on my nerves. He showed up to walk me to class on Monday. Which would be sweet if we were… you know. In like and shit. But we’re not. So it was annoying. Then he showed up outside my class just before lunch. Then again, after my last class to walk me home. And that’s been his routine all week. Like he’s keeping an eye on me.
When Frank is close enough, he reaches for me, leans in, and kisses me on the cheek. I wince, then look around to see if anyone’s watching. But no, we’re alone.
Weird.
“Ready?” he asks.
I don’t need to ask what I’m ready for. Once again, he’s my campus chaperone.