Page 169 of Unruly

“Every run you make after this one is Russian Roulette,” Catherine pointed out. “Every single border is going to be looking for smugglers given what happened. I know how this works because you have told me. Tell me I’m wrong, Cross.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Why would you risk that, then?”

Her shout echoed.

Cross didn’t even flinch.

“What choice do I have, Catherine? I made a deal.”

“Until you couldn’t. That was the deal, Cross. You would run his guns until you were no longer capable of running them. I would say now, you are in no way safely capable of running anyone’s guns.”

Cross stared hard at her.

Catherine still didn’t budge.

On this, she couldn’t.

It was more than him.

More than her.

It was the little girl sleeping upstairs that thought she had lost her father, and spent hours of her small life living in a kind of hell Catherine couldn’t save her from.

It was the unborn child she carried.

It was their whole life.

Cross broke their staring contest first by moving closer to her once more. Catherine held up a hand, shook her head, and moved past him.

“Catherine,” he said at her back.

“No.”

That was all she knew to say in that moment.

No.

Catherine sunk lower into the hot, bubbly water of the Jacuzzi bathtub. The jets were beating into a particularly hard knot of tension in her back. Likely caused by stress because apparently that was her fucking life now.

It was closing on noon, and Cece was still sleeping away. Catherine had considered waking the toddler up just to make sure she wouldn’t be awake all night, but she couldn’t bear to do it once she saw Cece sleeping. After the night her girl had, Cece deserved to do whatever in the hell she wanted.

So did Catherine.

Hence, the bath.

Sunlight filtered in through the high bathroom windows. Colorful streaks lit up the tiles on the floor and wall, putting her in a daze as she watched a bit of dust dance in the light.

Outside the bathroom, she heard Cross talking.

A one-sided conversation.

She shouldn’t eavesdrop, but since they hadn’t spoken a word in two hours, she kind of wanted to hear his voice. Their silence was her fault, too, so …

“Yeah, I thought a mediator would be good,” Cross said.

Catherine waited to hear more, and wondered what in the hell her husband was talking about. Never mind to whom he was talking with at the moment.