Page 62 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

The Trainees

Cross POV

Andino Marcello was fucking with Cross. He had to be. How else would the Marcello boss explain the utter fucking bullshit Cross was having to deal with right now?

Bullshit was being kind, really.

Cross was now—with no affection in his delivery—referring to the idiots that Andino had sent to him as simply The Fucks. One Fuck, Two Fuck, Three Fuck, Four Fuck, Five Fuck, and Six Fuck.

Six entirely useless fucks who Cross was supposed to train for Andino to apparently run guns for his operation. If there was ever a reason for a woman to swallow a load—it was those foolish idiots Andino sent to him.

The world would not have been a lonelier place without their lives added to the mix, as far as Cross was concerned.

Jesus.

Send me your best guys, Cross had told Andino. He was then, in turn, supposed to make the guys into the best weapons runners that Andino had ever seen. With these fucks, that was going to be entirely impossible. They were so useless to Cross, in fact, that he couldn’t even be bothered to learn their names.

Hence, The Fucks.

It was the best he could do.

Insubordinate.

Ignorant.

Arrogant.

Downright stupid at times.

They couldn’t follow direction, had zero understanding of how to shut up and listen, and Cross was seriously concerned about safety when it came to these idiots having guns in their hands.

They were not gunrunning material.

None of them.

Cross knew it from the moment they walked into the warehouse on day one. They were a bunch of boys playing pretend—idiots dressing up as even bigger fools. No one with any sense would think this was a good idea to use them as gunrunners.

Fuck One had no idea how to properly load a mag. Fuck Two was so lazy that Cross had caught the guy taking a nap in the corner—for the second time. Fuck Three left his phone where Cross could see it, and thus, also the texted pictures of guns the guy had sent to his girlfriend.

And that was just three of them.

The other three?

Just as bad.

If not worse.

Cross tried—fuck knows he tried to do something with these guys. Something to turn them into useable, moldable men. Even … possibly … potential made men for Andino, and not just gunrunners.

It was impossible.

The Lord was testing him.

That’s what it had to be.

God was having a good moment.

A joke at Cross’s expense.