Page 162 of Unruly

“Here.”

Zeke threw back a bag with a Walmart logo stamped on the front. “Best I could do for the time of night, and all. I was in that store ten minutes to closing, so don’t complain.”

Cross dug in the bag.

“These clothes are ugly as fuck.”

“I know.”

The jeans were half decent, though.

“It’ll do,” Cross mumbled.

He was already half undressed. His desire to get the wet clothes off was only matched by his need to get the fuck out of Canada at the moment.

“And a blanket.”

A heavy fleece blanket hit Cross in the face.

Suddenly, he didn’t care about clothes.

Half naked, he wrapped himself in that blanket, and rested back on the seat of the car. His best friend chuckled from the front seat. Cross eyed the emblem on the back of the leather seat.

“Zeke?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this a rental?”

“I know it’s not a fucking Mercedes or something.”

“It’s a goddamn Kia.”

“You always find something to complain about.”

“So?”

“It was the best I could do given—”

“Time of night, I know,” Cross interjected with a heavy sigh. “How mad is Catherine at me right now?”

“Like do you have a scale or something you want me to use?”

“One to ten, say.”

“Twenty,” Zeke murmured.

Cross nodded.

He figured that.

“She’s kind of scary, you know?”

Cross laughed lowly. “Is she?”

“Fuck yes. When she’s freaked out, can’t do much, and she’s worried about you … psychopath scary, Cross.”

“Love that girl.”