Always: A Legacy Novel (Cross + Catherine Book 1)

by Bethany-Kris

  She remembered when they were younger, and how soft and easy sex had been with him. She remembered learning how to fuck, how to come, and how to trust. She had learned all of those things with him, and that’s why she never felt unsafe, even when he did something that was new, like grabbing her throat hard enough to take just a bit of air away.

  Catherine’s eyes flew wide, and darted to Cross. She found a silent question resting there, but she was fine. His hand slid just an inch higher, so his thumb could slide along her lips, while his other hand fisted into her dress.

  “Get the fuck up here,” was all he grunted out before yanking her up back up from the pool table to be upright again. His mouth found hers, his pace never slowed, and she let go. It was too much—too much sensation between him her, his hands roughing her, and his mouth loving her. It was just too much. Catherine couldn’t have stopped the orgasm if she tried.

  “My girl, my girl, my girl,” she heard breathed in her ear as she shook through the bliss.

  She could feel the tensing in his back, and she knew he was close. His final few thrusts came hard enough to hurt, but it only really added to the aftershocks washing through her bloodstream.

  “I gotta bring you with me or something, Christ,” Cross muttered into her neck.

  Catherine laughed, and fell back to the pool table. “What, to Chicago?”

  “Wherever the hell I go.” He leaned down to kiss her, and stayed there, still semi-hard and pulsing inside her pussy. “Anywhere, Catty.”

  She agreed.

  Then, she looked to the side.

  “Oh, my God.” Catherine rested the palm of her hand on her forehead, surveying the uncovered wall of windows, and the high-rise condo just across the street that had a perfect fucking view. “I forgot about that.”

  “I didn’t. Give ‘em a show, babe.”

  She smacked him on his shoulder. “Cross!”

  “Keep acting like that; you know we’re going to do it again.”

  Probably.

  A lot.

  “I want to be here with you. After graduation, I mean,” Catherine said quietly.

  Cross kissed her inner wrist, where he had once drawn that small black cross, and then down her arm. “Yeah, I figured, but it’s got to be by your choice, Catherine. It’s always your choice.”

  “It is.”

  “Make sure your father knows it, too. He’s already got enough to hate me for.”

  One breath … two.

  One step … two.

  Catherine tried to shake off the nerves that were suddenly waging a war through her insides. She had been waiting for this day forever. Graduation should not be such a big thing that caused her any kind of anxiety, yet it did.

  She knew why, too.

  Her gaze darted along the crowd of people, all standing and watching the line of graduating students get smaller with each name called. She found her own collection of people in the crowd, and it certainly wasn’t a small bunch by any means. Her parents, brother and his wife, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. They took up three rows all by themselves.

  She really only looked for one person, though.

  Dark eyes, black hair … all hers.

  Cross.

  He had just made it home the night before, from a trip to Chicago … his third trip altogether. She knew he was tired, exhausted even, when hands couldn’t even keep hold of her wrists for too long without releasing.

  You drive, he’d told her.

  He had fallen asleep before they even got on the highway. But he made it back in time, just like he promised.

  Cross stood on one side of her father, while her mother stood on the other side of Dante. Catrina was a hell of a lot closer to Dante than Cross, though.

  Everybody needed just a bit more breathing room today.

  Catherine included.

  This was her anxiety.

  This was the reason for her shaky hands.

  This day had been counting down in her house for nearly two months, but no one really talked about it. It was all unspoken words and knowing glances passed between people who didn’t want to say something that might hurt a little too much.

  Catherine was only three graduates from the end of the line.

  She was two graduates behind getting her diploma.

  She was hours from moving out of her house.

  Catherine missed the two names ahead of hers, but managed to hear the call for her just fine … somehow. Everything moved a little bit faster after that. The final graduates, hats in the air, cheers all around.

  Congratulations, Graduates.

  Catherine was bombarded by family the second she stepped off the stage, and she really didn’t mind. It kept her from having to look at her father for too long because she didn’t want to see if she was causing him sadness again.

  She ended up eye to eye with him somehow anyway.

  Cross’s hand drifted over her back, as he chatted to Andino just behind her. His pinky finger hooked hers while she looked up at her dad.

  Dante smiled. “I’m so proud of you, reginella.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Never stopped, not once.”

  Catrina tucked a stray wave of hair behind Catherine’s ear before her mother darted off to talk to her Aunt Jordyn. Catherine barely felt a thing.

  “Vita mia—my life,” Dante said, still holding that same, soft smile. “You were my impossibility, Catherine, my never-meant-to-be. I need you to keep proving me wrong. Keep doing what everyone thinks you cannot. You were born to do that, vita mia.”

  “No, we would, but we’re just heading over to a party, Daddy,” Catherine lied.

  Dante sighed. “Dinner tomorrow, then? And you better not miss that birthday party next week.”

  The one for her cousin, Cella—the only August birthday in their family.

  “I won’t miss it. Tomorrow, we’ll be there for dinner. Okay?”

  Satisfied with her lies and promise, her father hung up.

  Cross slid into the Rover not two seconds later, a package in his lands. He handed the bubble mailer over without a word, and Catherine ripped it open. Tipping the contents into her lap, she looked over the drugs, and then quickly stuffed them back in.

  “Prescription pills are getting more popular, I see,” Cross noted.

  Catherine shrugged. “Opiates, especially. But yeah, anything will sell. I just have to make it clear what I’ve got on hand before they start asking for other shit.”

  Cross gave her a side-eye as he pulled out onto the road. “This should be … fun.”

  “I’m sorry you’re going to miss that fight in Brooklyn.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the fight, Catty,” he murmured.

  Yeah, she knew that, too He was more worried about her dealing at the street races, especially since the last four had been raided by police. Andino ended up getting a call about something last minute—which was also happening a lot more often lately—which left Catherine to go on her own.

  Cross would not have that shit. Not at all.

  She could deal on her own, and she would, depending on the circumstances. Parties, people she knew, or very public events that she got into due to her last name and social status, sure. She did those alone just fine, with a very sharp knife hidden at her inner thigh just in case someone tried some stupid shit.

  Cross wasn’t going to let her head out to the races alone, though, not given the circumstances. Catherine didn’t bother to bring her knife, if he was going to be there. He wouldn’t be far away, and always close enough to have both damn eyes on her just in case.

  “Check that message on the times again,” Cross said.

  Catherine pulled out her phone. She rattled off the event’s location, and the time the cars would kick off. “We’re making good time.”

  “Shit, I should have brought some money for a bookie.”

  She laughed.

  “I could loan you a bit,” Catherine teased, leering, “but it’s going to
cost you.”

  Cross reached over and tangled his fist into her hair, before pulling her across the seats for a kiss. “No way, Catty. You’re a fucking shark.”

  Another reason Catherine knew Cross hated watching her work?

  Men.

  The thrall of her dealing happened to be the fact that she was pretty, and men liked to look at her. Cross did not like men coming within breathing distance of Catherine if their intentions were anything less than innocent.

  It didn’t help that she had to feed into the client’s ideas and flirting because that’s exactly what brought them back or made them stupid enough to buy more. But it was all a game for her, in the end.

  As soon as Catherine had that money in her hands, and the exchange was done, so was her act. The guy was dropped from her radar faster than he could blink, and she was already moving away. She was almost done, though, as the start time for the race was coming up, and her supply was gone but for the two Oxys she was working on getting rid of.

  It was a game she did enjoy, however. There was nothing like the rush she got while dealing because everything was on her terms, by her rules, and how she wanted it done. She had the control because she had the substance, she provided, and she would take it away.

  The only thing to ever beat the intensity of that rush?

  Cross.

  Catherine handed a baggie with two Oxys over to another faceless man, and her gaze swept over the vehicles and people parked and milling about. She found Cross two cars over, half in conversation with a guy, but his attention was still on her.

  She tipped her head to the side, a signal that she was done, and he nodded. Still, he stayed where he was, finishing his conversation.

  Catherine, restless as hell, spied a familiar pink Porsche fifteen cars down. The car was unmistakable. It belonged to an ex’s of her cousin, Andino. She wasn’t sure why the two had broken up, but Catherine liked the girl enough, so she decided to stretch her legs and say hello while she was at it.

  Cross would have likely seen her go, and could probably keep an eye on her the whole time. She didn’t bother to look over her shoulder as she headed through the parked cars and people, weaving in and out, and coming up on a sidewalk just a few more steps away from the Porsche.

  “Catty, there you are …”

  Catherine barely got the chance to turn around in her sky-high heels before the man who said her name was yanking her into a nearby alleyway. She didn’t recognize his face, or his blue eyes as she stared up at him, but that wasn’t unusual because she saw all her clients as faceless men anyway.

  “Whoa, back off,” Catherine said, tugging her arm from the man’s grip. “I’m all out, anyway.”

  She needed to get the hell out of that alleyway.

  “Get the fuck back here, tease.”

  He yanked her back as she turned to go.

  Catherine’s back hit the brick wall hard, and suddenly she was frozen all over because …

  Hands too tight in her hair.

  A pillow making it hard to breathe.

  Blankets that weren’t hers.

  A body that didn’t respond.

  A boy who wouldn’t stop.

  She couldn’t take in air.

  She couldn’t think.

  She couldn’t move.

  The guy’s fingers dug into her jaw as he forced her to look up at him, a sneer forming on his lips. “You fuckin’ ripped me off last time we met up, girl.”

  What?

  Catherine didn’t have the patience to be ripping anybody off with drugs. As long as she got money, they got what they wanted.

  “That coke was cut with some kind of useless shit,” he spat.

  That wasn’t her, though.

  She didn’t cut the coke.

  Catherine couldn’t say anything because the guy was squeezing her jaw hard enough to loosen her teeth, and she was terrified.

  “Shit, Gerry, you found her?” called another voice.

  Catherine’s heart stopped.

  “About to get my fuckin’ due, too.”

  With those words, Catherine felt a hand snaking up under her dress, and she finally came back to life all at once. She pushed off the wall because this time her body could fight back, and drove her fists into the guy’s body. One into his face, the other, his groin.

  He doubled over, and Catherine bolted to the side.

  His friend was there waiting for her.

  Laughter mocked her.

  All over again, she was shoved into the wall while hands and hot breath and taunting words invaded. Nothing she did could stop it. No matter how hard she fought, nothing. Her mouth was covered with her first shout.

  She was spun around, her dress was ripped, and then she caught sight of the darkest salvation coming her way.

  Cross came out of nowhere.

  Like thin air parted and there he was.

  She didn’t even have the time to be grateful for his quick action, before he was ripping the two men away from her, and fists started raining down.

  Catherine just wanted to get the hell away. She wanted to fix her dress, to stop crying, to breathe and speak, for her throat to not taste like vomit, for her muscles not to hurt … she didn’t want to remember.

  Sickening cracks of fists hitting flesh and bone made her cover her ears, but she saw the flash of silver … it came out of nowhere, too.

  The grunt that came out of Cross when the knife slammed into his lower abdomen, made Catherine sick to her stomach. The silver blade came out red.

  “Fuck, Gerry … go,” the first guy barked.

  They were out of the alleyway without a look back.

  Cross was already down to the pavement, on his knees. Ropes of red slipped through his fingers as he pressed his hand to the bleeding wound.

  Pressure, pressure, pressure, Catherine thought. He needed more pressure on it.

  She couldn’t even speak.

  “It’s okay, babe,” she heard him say. “It’s okay.”

  It was not okay.

  It was not.

  Every movement Cross made was painful.

  “You all right, there, principe?” Wolf asked.

  Cross grunted from his hospital bed, trying to reset himself into a more comfortable position. “It’s one fucking stab wound, for Christ’s sake. Why does it feel like my insides are ripping apart?”

  “Location, location, location,” Zeke said from beside his father.

  Wolf jerked his thumb at his son. “Makes a good point.”

  “And they had to open the wound by an inch on either side to repair damage, son,” Calisto added as he walked into the room, “so it’s a bit more than just the initial slice.”

  Cross scrubbed a hand down his face, tired and over his already four-day stay at the hospital. “Where’s my walking papers?”

  “You’re fine, Cross.”

  “Cal, I want to go home.”

  “You might have to fight your mother over that one,” Calisto said.

  Cross’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “She thinks you should head to our place for a bit.”

  Nope.

  Fuck that.

  “I have a home, that’s where I’m going,” Cross said. “That’s the end of it.”

  “You could indulge your mother a bit.”

  Right.

  Indulge her.

  “I indulged her enough when I apologized for what happened, let her baby me in here for the first two days, and almost had to fight to take a piss alone. I am going to my penthouse, and she can visit. Where’s my damn papers?”

  Wolf chuckled. “Poor Emma. She’s always loved you a little too much, Cross. She’s the proper Italian mother. You’re never going to get rid of her.”

  “I don’t want to get rid of my mother. I just want to go home,” he barked.

  “Jesus, relax,” Calisto said, shooting a warning look across the room. “What is up with you?”

  Where to start?

  “My pain. I’m
damn indecent in these hospital robes. Catherine left, so she isn’t here. I’m fucking starved; the food sucks. This bed is like rocks; the blankets are sandpaper made into fabric. I haven’t had sex in four days, and it’ll be another week before I can have sex because of that stupid doctor and his big mouth when Catherine was here. Oh, and I let two fools get away without killing them the other night, and got myself a nice stab wound to match. Take your pick.”

  Cross rested back on the bed, finished his tirade.

  Zeke laughed lowly. “I like how you had sex in your list.”

  “Right,” Wolf said with a scoff, “he’s got priorities.”

  “Emmy did tell me that Donati attitude was flaring up,” Calisto said to himself as he took a seat. “And a week without sex isn’t going to hurt you, so calm the hell down.”

  “A week and four days. Get it right.”

  His step-father nodded condescendingly. “My apologies, son. That’s fucking terrible.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re a shit,” Calisto muttered. “Some things never change.”

  No, but some did. Cross figured that was what his step-father wasn’t saying as their gazes met. “I am fine.”

  “Now,” his step-father agreed. “You ready to talk about what happened? Emma got part of the story from Catherine that first night you were in here during surgery, but I would like to hear it from you, too.”

  “We went to the races,” Cross said. “Catherine wandered off. Two pricks dragged her into an alleyway. I went in, and came out with a stab wound and a ruined kidney.”

  Sure, Cross left a bit out. Like how Catherine was dealing. That she wasn’t supposed to leave his sight. That he felt like someone ripped his goddamn heart out of his chest when he realized he couldn’t see her. It happened so fucking fast.

  He wasn’t giving those details out.

  Calisto nodded once. “So why does Dante Marcello think you two were at a party?”

  Cross’s gaze shifted away. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do.”

  “What Catherine tells her father is her business,” Cross said, shrugging, “even if I don’t agree with it.”

  “You shouldn’t lie to him,” Calisto said.

  “I don’t.”