Page 60 of Unruly

“I fucked up,” Zeke murmured.

Cross didn’t even look at his friend because yeah, Zeke fucked up.

Badly.

“Her father—and probably the fucker in lockup—is going to come looking for her, Cross. I need you to help me because I can’t give her back.”

“Love, right,” Cross said, scoffing.

“Don’t, man. I’ve never even loved anybody before her. I’ve never asked you for anything. Not as a friend, and not as my boss. Please help me.”

Cross’s jaw tightened so fiercely, his molars ached. “Where is she right now?”

“At my place.”

“All right.” Cross brushed the plaster dust off the arm of his suit jacket. “Right now, we’re going to go out, have our dinner, and say nothing about this, Zeke. My wife just got back from L.A. yesterday, and tonight is meant to be relaxing. I will fill her in on the details tomorrow. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Are you going to help—”

“Fuck you for even asking like you had a doubt to begin with,” Cross snarled as he pushed past his friend. “You knew I would, you asshole.”

Katya Popov—Puzza, now—kept her head down as Cross entered the living room of Zeke’s Newport home. She was a pretty thing—petite and pale, white-blonde and shaking hands hidden in her lap.

She looked like a scared little mouse. Cross never did well with skittish women. He supposed he didn’t have a choice this time.

“Katya, this is—”

“Cross, right?”

Zeke nodded. “Yeah, babe.”

She still didn’t look at him.

It bothered Cross a bit.

“Are you not allowed to look at a man or something?” Cross asked the woman.

Her eyes widened when her head snapped up. “I …” She looked to Zeke standing beside Cross, and then back to him. “Depends on the man,” she finally settled on saying.

Cross sighed, and asked Zeke, “Is she serious?”

“Yeah. I mean, not with me, but you know. Them, or whatever.”

“How the hell did you even manage to have a relationship with the girl if she can’t even look at a guy?”

“Not like that,” Katya said. “There’s just … rules about men in the organization, yes? I’m not to irritate the man I was supposed to marry. They reported back to him on my behavior and things.”

Her light Russian accent inflected her words gently, but not so much that it was distracting.

Katya’s gray eyes flicked to Zeke again. “I’m sorry. We messed up, no?”

“A bit,” Cross muttered before his friend could answer. “But it’s nothing that we won’t handle or work out somehow.”

“I don’t think you understand or know my father or his boss very well.”