Page 32 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

The Save

Cross POV

Despite the thick fog of dreams keeping Cross firmly stuck in sleep, he still somehow heard the ringing of his cell phone. Faint and barely there at all, the ringing drove him from the dream, and had him peeling his eyes open to find the darkness of his bedroom staring back at him. For a split second, he wasn’t even sure why he had woken up, but the phone rang again.

A familiar tune.

One meant for her.

So then, he knew …

“Shit,” Cross mumbled.

Rolling over, Cross waved his hand blindly to find the phone on his nightstand. Finally, he had it in his grasp. Putting it to his ear, he buried himself back beneath the blankets as he answered the call.

“Catherine,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

“Cross?”

Damn.

He knew what she was going to ask before the words even left her mouth. Maybe it was the high, light way her words came out, but the whine that lingered in her tone. Catherine only sounded like that when she was drunk, or high.

He hated it when she sounded like that.

It always meant bad things.

“Are you at home?” she asked.

Cross tossed the blanket off, and scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “Yeah, in bed.”

“Oh.”

Soft, and unsure.

Like she was scared.

Cross hated that, too.

He could hear the thumping music in the background, and the muffled laughter of people. A door slammed, and the noise lessened in the background for a moment.

She was not at home—that much was clear.

A party, likely.

Something she had been doing far too often, lately.

“Well, okay,” Catherine said, “I’ll let you—”

“Where are you?”

“In the city.”

Cross stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Mmm, yeah, but doing what?”

“Working.”

Lies.