Page 48 of Five

I press the tab that will turn my camera feature on in my app, and then smile. “Princess,” I say. “Can you guess where I am?” I pan the phone around so she can see everything. Her canopy with dangling stars. Her window, lit up by the moon outside. And then I focus back on me and my frown.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “For everything. And I know you don’t have any idea at all what I’m sorry about, but I’m pretty sure you’re gonna find out soon. So I’m saying it first. Because I mean it, Rory. I’m fucking sorry I got us mixed up in all this bullshit. I’m sorry about walking away six years ago. I’m sorry…” I stop and sigh. “I’m sorry for coming back. Because it’s not fair. Not to you or my family. To your family. And you deserve better than me, ya know? You deserve a guy who will put you first and I’m… I’m afraid I haven’t done that. I fucked up, Ror. Bad. And it’s all catching up with me. I’m gonna get caught. I’m gonna have to pay for all of it eventually and I’m afraid that…”

I stare at the phone for several long, silent seconds.

“I’m afraid I just fucked up, Princess.” I sigh again. “I really fucked this shit up and I’m sorry.”

I press the stop tab and cut the recording short. And then my finger hovers over the delete option. I should delete it. If I get caught with this, they’ll use it against me. This little virtual heart-to-heart could be my downfall.

But just as I’m about to delete it, I see another icon at the bottom of my screen. An icon I haven’t seen in—hell, since I was ten. One of the apps I built. I vaguely recall telling my sister Sasha it would “change death as we know it.”

It came out a little morbid at the time, but it’s not morbid. I was just… well, I laugh. Then just admit it. I was kind of a morbid kid.

My phone must’ve assumed I’d be interested in that old app since I just pulled up Love Notes.

But I’m not interested in the death app right now. I’m wavering on if I should send this video to my princess. Make her stop, take a breath, and give me a second chance to make things right.

Will this make it right? Or will this make it worse?

I just don’t know. I can calculate all the probabilities in my head. But it’s too close to fifty-fifty to give me a solid projection.

“Love,” I say out loud to the tin-foil stars, “is not a calculation, Five Aston. Love is a leap of faith.”

I’m not real good at faith.

But I am good at taking risks. So I inhale the deepest breath I can and… press send.

There. It’s done.

Princess Shrike is gonna get that video confession when she opens Love Notes.

“Fuck!” I yell to the canopy of dangling stars. “I fucking forgot Cliff Middleton has her phone!”

How could I be so stupid?

Is this what love does? Makes people stupid? It has to be, because I might’ve just fucked up everything. I just sent an admissible confession to my enemy!

He’s gonna tell her. He’s gonna tell her everything he can think of so he can take her away from me. He’s gonna tell her I’m not who she thinks I am. That I am a bad guy. One of the worst bad guys in the entire world.

That I am, and have always been, a fucking criminal.

Chapter Fifteen - Rory

Halfway to Fort Collins I have second thoughts about leaving Five behind. But then the hurt takes over and that feeling—that tightness in my chest like something is about to crush my heart—comes back. And I’m angry all over again.

Besides, it’s not like I left him stranded out in the middle of nowhere. He’s on my family farm. It’s practically a country resort. He’ll probably go inside the pool house and go to sleep on the couch. Hell, he might even take a dip in the spa while he waits me out.

He knows I’ll be back. Eventually. I’ll always come back to him.

And then I’m angry all over again because fuck him if he thinks I’m so… so… predictable and easy!

I’m not going back. Nope. If I was standing instead of driving, I’d stomp my foot. Put it firmly down in place. Six fucking years. This man left me hanging for six fucking years!

I turn on the radio and find the country station my mom listens to when she’s mad at my dad. I blare it. And even though I haven’t listened to this station since I was home last, I recognize the song and sing along. I curse my man along with the singer on the radio. We will not be taken for granted! We will not be left behind! We will not be forgotten!

When I get into town I realize I have no idea where Cliff might be. And I have no phone to call anyone asking if—

Wait.