Page 162 of Always: A Legacy Novel

So familiar.

Oh, so good.

“Promise?”

“Always.”

As fast as he took her into his embrace, he let her go. Catherine waited until he was in his Rover and heading out of the parking lot, before she headed for her own car.

She didn’t forget his words, though.

His threat.

His promise.

It would be another three months before Catherine had to face those words again, and exactly what they meant.

When the air turned cold …

When ice covered roads …

When no one was looking …

Two days after an accident on an icy turn that took Derik’s life, Cross handed Catherine a piece of small metal tubing in an empty classroom. It was only maybe a half of a centimeter long, and she had no idea what it was.

“Car break lines,” he had said.

Catherine had only kept staring, unsure and unsteady. So goddamn wary, too.

Cross had laughed a dark and dangerous sound. “I never thought my first one would go down like that, but it doesn’t surprise me that it was for you.”

I’m a patient motherfucker.

Maybe she should have been disgusted.

Maybe she should have been terrified.

She only felt relief because she didn’t have to see Derik every day, and he deserved what he got. All of it.

Catherine still broke down.

Hard.

It was brutal; her sobs and messy tears filled the quiet space. Her ass hit the floor with cut break lines in her hand, and all she could do was squeeze it. Then, Cross was down on the floor with her, all his arms and legs wrapping around her like a fucking cocoon she couldn’t get out of, but she didn’t even want to. His familiar scent soaked into her lungs—leather, gun oil, and love. She could breathe again. She could finally breathe.

Promise?

Always.

Eight Months Later …

Cross sipped from a glass of water as Zeke shuffled the deck of cards across the table.

“Fifty-Two Pickup?” Zeke asked.

“If you throw those cards all over the table, I’m going to make you pick them up with your teeth.”

His friend scoffed. “You’re no fun anymore, Cross. I miss when you were fourteen, and—”