Page 183 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“Does your body feel like mine does right now?”

“Like I’m gonna die?”

Cross nodded. “Yep.”

“Then, yes, it does.”

They had been up for hours, nonstop. They could take breaks, take naps, and whatever else they needed, but there was a deadline to get the guns checked, counted, and on the road. That deadline was counting down fast. It didn’t help that the guns ended up coming in two weeks later than Theo had said they would arrive.

Apparently, sometimes that happened.

Fucking perfect.

For the last week, they had been working on unpacking the weapons, putting them all together, checking all the parts, and then taking them apart. They were almost done, and then they would be on the road and heading down to do the drop.

Cross began dismantling the gun as Tommaso packed the one he just took apart away into sawdust filled crates. He glanced at the clock behind his partner, taking in the time and letting out a low cuss.

“What?” Tommaso asked.

Cross shook his head. “Nothing. So hey, you good for a minute?”

“Sure, we’re nearly through our set, anyway.”

He put the weapon down, only half disassembled, and headed out the side of the warehouse where the other guys usually went to smoke. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he dialed a familiar number and put the device to his ear.

It rang and rang and rang.

Come on, babe.

Finally, she picked up.

“Cross?”

“Hey, Catty,” he murmured, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You sleeping?”

She yawned on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, but it’s okay.”

Cross didn’t call a lot—he wasn’t supposed to. Theo made rules for a reason, and for the most part, Cross followed them because he knew that was a big part of his job there.

“Look at the clock,” Cross said.

Catherine grumbled something under her breath, and he heard blankets shifting as she moved. “It’s, like, twelve-oh-two in the morning.”

“Yeah, it is. You know what that means, right?”

“You called me really late to make me look at the clock and tell you the time?”

Cross laughed. “No.”

“Help me out here, then.”

“Happy eighteenth birthday, babe.”

Catherine sighed a happy sound. “So, that makes you the first person to tell me this year.”

He’d like to be the first person to tell her for the rest of her life.

“I guess so,” Cross murmured. “Sorry I didn’t make it back, Catherine.”