Page 126 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“What the fuck?”

Cross’s first time speaking up at the meeting probably shouldn’t have been that.

All eyes turned on him.

He didn’t give a crap about his car being allowed at school or not. Catherine, though? That was his giant red line, and he wasn’t letting anybody push him to it.

“That’s bullshit,” Cross said. “Because you’ve got some shitty video of us joking around in a hallway and—”

“You are very aware it was more than just that,” the principal interjected firmly, “even if I don’t have the full show, Cross.”

“No vehicles, and keep a distance,” Calisto said, giving his step-son a look that screamed for him to shut up. “Anything else?”

“For now, no. Please remove Cross and his vehicle from school property for the day. And Cross?”

He glared at the woman. “What?”

“You’re very lucky, young man.”

Emma headed out of the office with a shake of her head.

Calisto urged Cross to follow his mother, muttering, “Lucky depends on who you ask at the moment.”

Cross slowed in the quiet school hallway when he felt his step-father’s fist clench into the back of his shirt. Emma continued walked, seemingly unaware that her husband and son were staying behind.

“Tell me …” Calisto spun Cross around so the two faced one another. His step-father pressed his fingers into his temples. “Jesus Christ, please tell me you were not having sex with the Marcello girl in her car, on school property, during school hours, Cross. Come on, lie to me, son.”

Cross wasn’t a liar, though.

He simply omitted details sometimes.

“I’m always safe,” he said with a shrug.

Calisto let out a hard breath, and it echoed with his exasperation. “Just … what the fuck is wrong with you? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Do you even understand the shit you’ve pulled, and what you’ve done with this?”

“Papa—”

“Don’t,” his step-father said, holding up a hand. “Your next words better be the best apology you’ve ever made, or some magic shit to make this all go away. If that’s not what it is, I don’t want to hear you say a thing, Cross.”

Cross flatted his arms over his chest, but chose to stay quiet.

They messed up.

He got that well enough.

Calisto scrubbed a hand over his jaw, and kept his gaze anywhere but on Cross. “This was the line, son. You went too far this time. You didn’t even think about it. You just jumped. Get to my car.”

Cross frowned. “My Rover—”

“Will be picked up by one of my men, and locked away until I say otherwise. You’re driving home with me and your mother. Get to my damn car.”

The drive home felt longer than ever, and awkwardly silent. His mother—a woman who chattered constantly just to fill space—never said a thing. She didn’t look at him when she got out of the car at their home, either.

Cross moved to follow his mother.