Page 25 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

Cross was still fucked up—way too messed up to be doing this. And who the hell just came into a bedroom and climbed on somebody that was sleeping?

“Get off,” Cross said.

“Don’t be like that.”

Her fingers tightened.

“Besides,” she added, “I think you like it.”

“Get off.”

Somewhere in his hazy mind, shit became clear.

This was how easy it could be for somebody to do shit like this. To take advantage. To hurt, and think it was okay.

It pissed him off, and made him sick at the same time.

“Get the fuck off,” Cross snarled.

His words were still slurred.

His strength was not up to par.

He still shoved the girl away from him. So hard, in fact, that she fell off the side of the bed. The thump cleared his foggy brain in an instant. The haze wasn’t gone, but he didn’t feel entirely high or drunk anymore.

The hangover tomorrow was going to be a bitch.

“Asshole,” the girl said.

“Get out.”

Cross rolled over in the bed, and yanked the blankets up over his head.

“And lock the fucking door,” he added in a mumble.

“Cross, your phone is ringing again.”

“Leave it,” Cross said.

Zeke still picked up the device and checked the home page. “It’s your father.”

“Fuck, man, I said to leave it.”

“Shit, all right. Relax.”

Cross went back to cleaning the nine-millimeter. Zeke never took proper care of his guns, and it drove Cross crazy.

“Dad called me a couple times today,” Zeke said.

“Yeah.”

“Asked about you.”

“Yeah,” Cross repeated dryly.

“Wanted to know when you were going to head home.”

“Yeah.”