Page 164 of Unruly

“Oh, my God, Cross, you scared the fucking hell out of me,” Calisto breathed. “What is wrong with you, son? You are too old to be still putting me through this crap!”

“Papa—”

“Emma … Emmy, get in here!”

All his father’s pain and worry came rushing in a waterfall of words. Curses, and fear, and apologies.

“I’m okay,” Cross kept saying over and over again.

Finally, his father asked, “Why are you still such a little shit? Why?”

Cross laughed.

His throat hurt like hell.

“Why did you make me this way?”

“Daddy gones!”

“No, Cece, Daddy is not—”

“Daddy gones!”

Catherine sighed, and scrubbed her hands down her face. If only she knew what to say to calm Cece down. She didn’t know anything. This tantrum was going on two hours. It didn’t seem like it was going to end.

“Ma, my daddy gones!”

“Cece, he is not gone.”

“Daddy gones!”

“Okay, that’s enough, Cece.”

Her daughter didn’t hear a thing. It wasn’t like Cece to have tantrums. She was spoiled, sure, and a little difficult at times. Outright tantrums was still a rarity, though. It was something she was usually grateful for. Didn’t they have enough to deal with?

Catherine had heard the car pull into the underground garage beneath the brownstone. The call from Zeke a couple of hours earlier to let her know they had landed at the private airstrip was a goddamn relief. She looked up to see Cross open the front door to the brownstone, and warily peek inside. He could probably hear the tantrum all the way outside.

She was the only one—down the hallway—to notice his arrival. Cece was far too busy with her fit. Catherine’s relief was sweet, but she couldn’t deny the annoyance bubbling up, either.

Later, she told herself. Deal with it later.

Cece, on the other hand, sat in a puddle of toddler tantrum. Her nightgown was twisted every which way. Wild waves of her hair flew all over the places—bits that weren’t already stuck to her face. She thrashed on the floor, all arms and legs, and anger.

“Cece, look who’s here, baby.”

“Daddy gones!”

Catherine’s gaze drifted upward, and she sent a silent prayer to the heavens. All over again, the tantrum started. Like somebody had hit Cece’s restart button, and she gained new energy to kick and hit the floor, all the while screaming her lungs out.

Maybe Cross wouldn’t have minded one more night in the woods after coming home to this …

Joking.

She was joking.

Mostly.

At the moment, if Catherine didn’t joke, she was going to scream. Mostly at her husband for scaring her half to death.