Page 105 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

Graduated high school at fifteen. He was going into his third year of college, and would likely graduate with a doctorate within three or so years. That was, if Naz stayed in school and continued to work as hard as he did for his studies.

Who knew if he would?

Naz was brilliant, sure.

But fickle, too.

And restless.

Sinful.

Criminal.

Amazing, really.

The young man could attend six hours of classes five days a week, plus two hours of online studies. Then, in the evenings, he mentored under one of Cross’s Capos—and Zeke, too. Naz had been doing that since he was twelve because he wanted to be a made man like nothing else.

And on the weekends?

Naz ran guns.

Sometimes with Cross, if it was a short run, but more often than not, with his partner.

“Who was that woman?” Cross asked.

Naz scribbled more nonsensical things to the white board. “Tess, or Treena … Tyler, maybe. Something with a T, anyway.”

“Nazio.”

“Met her at the club last night.”

“What are you gonna do if they catch your ass in one of those clubs with a fake ID, Naz?”

Nazio passed his father a look. “Buy a new one?”

Jesus.

“Naz!”

“What?”

“Since when do you break my rules—no women in this house when your mother and I are home. You know the rules.”

Naz shot his father an apologetic look. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Since when do you not think?”

Shrugging, Naz shoved his hands into the pockets of his training shorts. “When I’m buried in pussy, I guess.”

Christ.

“Naz,” Cross murmured, raising a brow high.

“What? It’s the only time I don’t have to be …”

“What, son?”

Naz gestured at the white board, and then pointed to his temple. “This.”