Page 9 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

“No, I guess you get all your shit supplied by Zeke, huh?”

Cross cocked a brow. “The only thing Zeke supplies me is the occasional phone, thanks. Assuming makes an ass out of you and me. Or haven’t you heard that before?”

Michel rolled his eyes. “Come on, Donati. I know the crowd you run with, and the things they do. I’ve seen you at the Academy parties. We all know what I’m there to do, and why everybody else shows up.”

Okay, now Cross was starting to get pissed off. He certainly wasn’t a saint, considering some of the stunts he pulled, but he didn’t like what Michel was implying, either.

“Listen, Michel,” Cross said, “I’ve got no need to hide or lie about the shit I do. So, if I say I didn’t do something, then I didn’t fucking do it. Got it?”

Michel stayed quiet for a long while. Cross took the chance to once again check the long line of cars in the pick-up lane. Rick was still nowhere to be seen.

“As long as you keep my little sister away from that kind of shit, too,” Michel said.

“You know, that kind of sounded threatening.”

Michel chuckled, and pushed off the wall to land to his feet. “Well, that’s because I meant for it to, Cross.”

“I look out for Catherine.”

“You better.”

“You do realize that I’m not at all scared of you, right?”

Michel turned to face Cross again, and all his seriousness was back in a blink. “It’s not really me that you’ve got to be afraid of, man. Remember that.”

“There a point to this?”

“Like I said, I know who you are, the shit you’ve been known to do, and the crowd you like to run with. I just want to make sure it’s clear that you know Catherine can’t get mixed up in any of that kind of stuff.”

“Right, because she’s such an angel.”

The halo was only held up by devil’s horns.

“Didn’t say she was, no,” Michel replied easily.

Cross waved a hand to brush this whole conversation off. “Thanks for the chat and all, but I’m not really interested in talking more to you now.”

Michel shook his head. “That attitude will get you nowhere with my father.”

“He anything like you?”

“Worse.”

Huh.

Cross had yet to meet Catherine’s father face-to-face, but he heard and knew enough about Dante Marcello to know the man was all business. He apparently didn’t have a lot of patience, either. Something that didn’t bode well for Cross, given his nature.

Michel looked to Cross. “You got any questions for me?”

“What, like advice?”

“I guess.”

“Not really.”

“Suit yourself,” Michel said.

Then, Cross had a thought.

“Wait,” he said.

Michel slowly turned back around, and lifted a single brow. “Yeah?”

“When is Catherine’s birthday, and what does she like?”