Page 91 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The back door slammed.

Catherine looked at Cross with a raised brow. “Did he just—”

“Wait for it,” Cross repeated.

The sound of the garage door opening whispered through the wall.

Cross gave his son credit.

Naz didn’t try to be quiet.

“He’s not seriously stealing one of your cars, is he?” Dante asked.

Cross gave his father-in-law a smirk. “I did.”

“Pretty regularly, too,” Calisto added in a mutter.

“And,” Cross said, “Naz can take cars apart—you think he can’t drive them, too?”

“He’s going to be so pissed,” Catherine said.

Yep.

Cross started counting down again—this time, out loud. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two … one.”

The front door slammed shut. The stomp of footsteps followed before Naz came into view of the kitchen entryway. Almost six feet tall, and pissed all over.

It was amusing.

In a way …

“What did you do to the fucking cars, Dad?”

“Took the spark plugs out,” Cross returned. “You might be a fucking genius, but you came from me, principe. You’re going to have to up your game to trick me.”

Naz glared. “Where are the spark plugs?”

“Right—I’m not telling you that.”

His son kept glaring.

Cross just smiled. “I told you—let your sister have her date. If I have to live through this hell, then so do you.”

“Cross!” Catherine admonished.

He shrugged.

Where was the lie?