“Small change of plans.”
Cross scowled. “That’s a bad choice of words the moment I step into a warehouse ready to finish up my plan for running these guns, Andino.”
Andino waved Cross’s statement off. “It’s not going to bother your plans that much. If anything, it might make things easier.”
“It better be good,” he warned.
“It’s about the boat,” Andino said.
“The yacht you want me to use, you mean.”
“Yeah, it belongs to a friend. The captain regularly makes side trips, if you know what I mean. The timing of this run is going to coincide with a pickup he needs to make in Cancun.”
“Keep going.”
“He’s not going to be able to bring you back up to the States, that’s all,” Andino said. “He’s going to spend a bit of time in Cancun while the Mexican Navy is doing a drill in the Gulf. Then you’ll be able to take the boat out yourself for the drop.”
“But after?”
“After, when you bring the boat back in, he’s got elsewhere to go. You’re going to have to stay in Cancun.”
“So, I don’t have a fucking way home is what you’re trying to tell me.”
Andino looked up from the map he had spread out on the table. “Technically, yes.”
“You’re a shit.”
“But,” Andino drawled with a glare, “I did get you set up with a private jet. Bit more money than I wanted to spend on this run, but if it makes your stupid ass less whiney, why not?”
“I’m not whiney. I’m—”
“Extremely annoying when you have to change your plans,” Andino interrupted.
Cross shrugged. “When plans change, it leads to other issues that I usually end up having to deal with. I like clean, quick runs. Get in, get out. Simple.”
“Yeah, well, this changed. I fixed the route home. You’ll be back quicker than before.”
“I … can deal with that,” Cross said.
“Thought so.”
Cross looked around the warehouse, noting the opened crates and a few dismantled weapons on a row of tables. “I see you followed my advice on checking the guns.”
“A couple of guys are working on it.”
“It’s the tenth of October. I need to be on the water by November first, Andino. Make them work a little faster.”
Andino scrubbed a hand down his face, and mumbled, “Listen, I can only use so many men before someone starts noticing that I’m taking guys off the streets for a purpose I’m not talking about. Someone will get suspicious and nosy—it always fucking happens—and they’ll start snooping around. We are this close to getting these guns on a boat and starting the run, Cross. Once you’re on the water, I don’t give a fuck who knows you’re running these guns. Until then, though, I need it kept quiet.”
Cross understood that.
It didn’t mean he particularly liked it.
“Just make sure they have all the guns properly checked, and packed back up,” Cross warned.
“They will. It will probably be down to the wire, but it will be done, Cross.”
“How many more guns are to come in, now?”
“The last two hundred ARs are coming in on a cargo vessel next week.” Andino looked up at Cross with a snide smile. “You’re welcome, by the way, because I could have had them in here last week on a fishing boat.”
“I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Andino grumbled, “water, fishy smell, you’re a whiney ass.”
Cross stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You’re working my nerves.”
“I do what I do. Nobody said you had to fucking like it, asshole.”
“We’re never working together again after this run,” Cross said. “We would kill each other. I can almost see it.”
It was a guarantee.
Andino shrugged. “Fine by me. Have you got the rest of this run figured out?”
“It’s a pretty basic run,” Cross replied, “but for the whole keeping your boss out of the loop bit. It usually tends to make a boss feel more comfortable when they know it is me running their guns.”
“Yes, well, not Dante.”
“Definitely not.”
Andino eyed Cross again. “Although, I hear through the grapevine that you’re still seeing Catherine.”
Cross smirked. “So?”
“Playing with fire, don’t you think?”
“Not at all.”
“We had dinner on Sunday,” Andino said with a chuckle, “and you happened to come up in the conversation. I can’t say I have ever seen Dante be that quiet and angry at the same time.”
“Funny,” Cross drawled.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Catherine’s like every Marcello principessa. She can do no wrong in her father’s eyes. She’s got him wrapped around her pinky finger, and all she needs to do is smile and bat her eyelashes.”
“Yet, I think he would still gut me like a pig if he thought he could get away with it and keep me away from his daughter once it was all said and done.”
“Probably,” Andino agreed, “but that won’t happen. I mean, Dante can hope it will, but clearly Catherine has her own ideas about you.”
“Clearly,” Cross echoed.
He was not about to go offering details regarding his relationship with Catherine, or … whatever in the hell they were. They were still trying to figure some shit out, after all. She let him take her out occasionally, and she stayed the night when she wanted to. Cross didn’t push. Catherine didn’t seem to want labels for the moment.
Cross could deal with that.
For now …
“Give Dante time to get used to you being around again,” Andino said with a shrug. “Or you know, keep a low profile and hope he doesn’t figure out a way to be rid of you and keep Catherine in the dark at the same time. They’re good at that, those two.”
Cross’s brow furrowed. “Good at what?”
“Lying to one another. They’ve been doing it for years. I don’t think they know how to sit down and have an honest conversation with one another when all they want to do is keep the other one in the dark, and happy at the same time.”
Andino laughed under his breath, adding, “The funny thing is, what they want to keep from the other one, and what they lie about, the other one already knows. Strangest relationship I’ve ever had to deal with, honestly.”
“Wait,” Cross murmured, stepping close enough to the table that he could set his hands down on the edge. “Are you talking about Catherine’s work for you and stuff?”
“Yeah, for one.”
“Seriously?”
Andino glanced up from the map, and cocked a brow. “Her parents—but more Dante—made the decision long ago not to bring up Catherine’s work with me unless she brought it up to them first. She doesn’t want them to know. She lies. They lie. Everyone is happy … sort of. Like I said, it’s strange.”
“You’re telling me that she still doesn’t know that they’re aware she’s hustling drugs for you?”
Cross hadn’t known that only because he didn’t ask Catherine. She didn’t talk a lot about her work with Andino, but Cross could tell she liked doing it. She was far more likely to roll her ass out of bed in the morning to deliver someone’s cocaine for the day than she was to go to college and listen to another set of lectures.
She was good at it.
He didn’t need to say anything about it.
“No, Catty doesn’t know,” Andino confirmed.
“Why the hell not?”
“Haven’t we had this conversation before? It feels familiar, and I’m not interested in having a repeat, man.”
“Andino,” Cross said, his irritation rising, “lies, hiding her business, and putting on a mask for everyone around her was exactly what forced Catherine into a bad spiral of depression and other shit the last time. So, yeah, she’s good and strong and well right now, but what if shit catches up with her next month, or hell, even next week. She’s learned to protect herself. Her mental health is solid. But what if something happens, and she feels like she has to hide it again. Or, shit, even hide how she feels because she doesn’t want her parents to know what she’s doing.”
Cross smacked his hands on the table to make Andino look up at him. “Aren’t you fucking hearing me right now? Listen. That shit is bad for her mentally. She’s walking a fine line, man. Why wouldn’t you just tell her they know if they don’t give a shit that she’s doing it to begin with?”
Andino didn’t even look bothered when he said, “Because that girl makes me a fuck lot of money, Cross.”
“What?”
“Catherine.” Andino stood straight, and folded his arms over his chest. “She brings in more than any other dealer I supply. Triple the amount, sometimes. And she can do that in a couple of weeks if she’s got the ambition and desire to work.”
“Money,” Cross echoed, confused. “What the hell does that have to do with telling her? She would still be making you money, you fucking idiot.”
“Don’t insult me. You clearly don’t know as much about my cousin as you think.”
“Oh, really? Fill me in, then. Surprise me.”
“I know exactly what would happen if I told Catherine the truth about her parents. If she found out they knew she was dealing, at the very least, she would quit altogether. She’s constantly in some kind of state where she believes they’ll disapprove. If she even gets a feeling they disapprove while she knows they know what she’s doing, she’ll drop it in a second. I can’t have her doing that when she’s making me seventy percent on every dollar, and she’s bringing in a hundred grand or more a month. And that’s a shitty month, okay?”
Cross’s voice felt far too calm when he said, “At least, Andino. You said, at least. What’s the most that could happen, huh?”
Andino smirked. “She would work for her mother. You know, the fucking Queen Pin in the family. Which again, costs me money. Knowing my aunt like I do, Catrina would have Catherine onto her side of things with a few simple words, and nothing more. This world—Cosa Nostra—is not like Catrina’s world. Catherine doesn’t just get to come and go as she wants. There is no wet or dry with the mafia, Cross. She can’t just dip her toes with me, and then jump all in with her mother.”
“Andino—”
“I made that girl what she is. I’m not giving her up for someone else to cash in.”
Cross leaned against the hood of his Porsche, and eyed the long line of people waiting to get inside one of New York’s most elite nightclubs. The joint was a popular place for celebrities and socialites to party, so the line went all the way down the block.
Checking his phone, Cross scrolled to Catherine’s last text.
I’ll be out in twenty, she had said.
Cross had left Andino’s warehouse, and immediately texted Catherine. Usually, he left it up to her on whether or not she wanted to be around him, but not this time. Andino had left him with a clear warning to keep his mouth shut about what he knew.
The thing was, Cross just couldn’t do that.
Not again.
Years ago, he had kept quiet about this very same thing. He’d chosen not to tell Catherine the truth regarding her parents knowledge about her dealings with Andino because her family made that choice. Cross stepped back accordingly.
He thought now that was one of his biggest mistakes.
Maybe … had Catherine known back then that she had more people to go to instead of just him after a second assault had left her mentally battered, she might have made it out okay. Maybe, she could have dealt with her emotions better. Maybe, the depression might not have crippled her to the point of drug and alcohol abuse.
So no, Cross couldn’t do that again.
Not when the risk was far too high for Catherine.
Cross hadn’t said anything to his girl over the messages he sent after he left Andino. He simply asked where she was, and if she wanted to meet up. Apparently, she was dealing for a couple of socialites inside the club and their movie-star friend. As far as he understood, the thrall in Catherine’s hustling for these people was her presence. They liked her attention and her status in New York, and so she fed into that nonsense because it made her money.
Shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, Cross kept his gaze on the entrance of the club, and waited. Another ten minutes passed before a familiar form walked out of the club. An open black trench coat, left untied at the waist, showed off the short, slinky silver dress Catherine was wearing. She tucked a matching clutch under her arm. Ankle high boots clicked on the pavement as she quickly spotted him and moved in his direction.
Cross pushed off the Porsche, and opened his arms. Without hesitation, Catherine took his embrace with a smile.
“You’re out late when you have classes tomorrow, aren’t you?”
Catherine laughed lightly. “I’m not a very good student.”
“I guess not. Hey, by the way.”
“Hey,” she mumbled into his chest. “Did you just miss me, or what?”
Cross chuckled, and kissed the top of her head. “Always, babe.”
Catherine leaned back and looked up at him curiously. “Why do I hear a but in there somewhere?”
Cross looked around. “Did you bring your Lexus, or …?”
“No. I take cabs when I’m working. It’s just easier when I have to run between venues, and don’t have time to find parking spots at every one.”
“Yeah, I get that. You mind taking a drive with me?”
Catherine grinned. “Where are we going?”
“Just … a drive.”
Instantly, Catherine’s smile faded. “Is something wrong?”
Cross didn’t quite know how to answer that. “I mean, yes and no. Can we just talk about it in the car?”
“All right.”
She let him open the passenger side door of the Porsche. Once she was safely inside, he slammed it shut and headed around the front of the car. The noise from the club—pumping, deep bass—echoed as the doors opened across the street to let a group of people out.
Cross slipped into the driver’s side, and ignited the ignition. Catherine, slightly turned in her seat, watched him in that silent, worrying way of hers. He knew that expression far too well. He had seen her wear it far too many times.
It wasn’t long before they were driving on busy city streets. The lights of the city helped to light up the cab of the car.
Finally, Catherine spoke. “Are you going to tell me what’s up, or keep making me anxious over here?”
“I don’t mean to make you anxious,” Cross said, “but I don’t know how to say this, either.”
“You’re you, Cross.”
“Well, yeah.”
Catherine flashed him with a sweet smile. “So be you and just say it.”
Right.
Be him.
Blunt. Painfully honest. Unrestrained.
“I was with Andino earlier,” Cross said.
Catherine stiffened. “Why were you with my cousin?”
“Work. It’s not important.”
“Work,” she said, drawing the word out slowly. “Work with my family. My father’s family. When did that happen?”
“Well, technically your father doesn’t know.”
Catherine cringed. “Yikes.”
“We would prefer he doesn’t find out,” Cross added.
“Okay.”
“But that’s not the point.”
“Okay, so get to it, Cross.”
He sighed, and shot her a look from the side. “Anyway, I was with Andino, and we got to talking about some things.”
“Like what?”
“You, for one.”
Catherine’s brow dipped. “Uh …”
“Your dealing for him, for another,” Cross added.
“You know I don’t like people prying into my business, Cross, even you.”
“I know,” he murmured, “and I wasn’t prying, Catty. I swear.”
“So what were you doing?”
“You came up after he mentioned your family dinner this past Sunday.”
Catherine rolled her eyes, and groaned. “Oh, that shit show. Yeah, that was fun.”
“I bet,” Cross said faintly, “but it moved onto your dad, and your business with Andino because of how your dad is with you.”
“I don’t get it.”
“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” Cross replied. “I suppose you’ve made such a great effort to keep this part of your life hidden from your parents that you likely believe they have no idea what you’re doing. You probably think you’ve been so careful, so smart about hustling, that they don’t have the first clue you’re one of Andino’s most profitable dealers on his crew.”
Catherine’s gaze narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“They do know, babe. Your parents, I mean. They know all of it.”
“No, they … no,” she said quickly. “They would have said something, Cross. They don’t know anything about this at all.”
“Catherine, they’ve known for a long time.”
“Cross, you’re being ridiculous. My parents don’t know that I hustle for Andino.”
He could hear the fear in her voice. He didn’t agree with Andino’s choice to keep lying to Catherine, never mind letting her lie, but he could see how easy it would be for the man to do. He could understand how Andino came up with the idea that Catherine would quit her business with him over something like this.
Cross still didn’t like it, though.
“They do know,” he assured. “Andino made that perfectly clear, amongst other things. They’ve known for as long as you’ve been doing it.”
“No,” Catherine repeated, “they don’t.”
“Babe—”
“Cross, do you know the fit my mother and father would have if they knew what I do? They’ve always been pretty straightforward when it came to pushing me toward the legal side of business, never mind shutting me down every time I asked about my mother’s work. If they knew, they would have spoken up. Loudly and repeatedly.”
“You’re wrong,” Cross said quietly.
“You don’t know my parents.”
“I know that years ago, when I asked Andino to make you slow down after you were attacked at the street races, he told me about this. Back then, he made it clear your parents wanted you to do what you wanted to do, and when you were ready you would go to them and let them in on your secret. I was told to be kept quiet back then because it was your family, and their choice, so I did.”
“What?”
A quake quivered in Catherine’s voice.
Cross nodded, and passed her a look. “Yeah, babe. I keep thinking that if I made the choice not to tell you now, like I did back then, something might happen again. Something could happen to you because of what you’re doing. It’s the nature of this business. Shit, if you feel like you can’t even speak up to those around you about the stuff you’re dealing with, then that can’t be good for your health. Right? So, no, I couldn’t just … keep it a secret. I’m not up for that again. Look what happened the last time.”
Catherine sat in the passenger seat, still as stone. She clenched her hands into fists on her lap until her knuckles turned white from the pressure.
“They know,” she said softly.
“For a long time,” he confirmed.
“And you knew that they knew about me.”
Betrayal clung to her words.
Cross couldn’t miss it. “I thought back then that it wasn’t my place to step in, Catherine.”
“So you never thought to tell me now, either?”
“Now, I thought you already knew, or that you worked it out with your parents over the years,” Cross explained with a shrug. “We don’t talk about your business with Andino in any depth. It’s your business. You made that clear. I never thought to ask until this conversation came up today.”
“Why wouldn’t Andino tell me?”
Cross cleared his throat. “Well, on that, you should talk to—”
“I think you’ve kept enough from me,” Catherine interjected coldly. “Just tell me.”
Fine.
“Money.”
Catherine’s jaw tightened, and her gaze hardened. She turned in her seat to stare out the windshield, and not at Cross. “Money.”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He thought you would quit or maybe work for Catrina instead of him. You pull in a lot of cash all on your own, and he felt telling you would risk his bottom line.”
“Is that so?”
“Catherine …”
She looked at her diamond encrusted watch. “Do you know where Andino lives?”
“I do.”
“I would like you to take me there.”
“Are you even sure he’s home? A couple of hours ago, I was in a warehouse with him, and he was working.”
“He’s home. It’s twelve, and Snaps eats at twelve every night before Andino walks him around the block. That dog keeps a tight schedule. Please take me to his place. Now.”
“Sure, babe. Do you—”
“You should have told me,” Catherine said, cutting off Cross’s words. “Back then, I mean. You were the only one who knew, or had an idea, that I was struggling with the lies I was juggling and the act I put on. You should have told me.”
“Maybe you should have tried being honest, too.”
Catherine didn’t deny it. “You still should have told me, Cross.
Cross opened his mouth to say something, maybe ask if another day would be a better time to do this, but Catherine’s glare quieted him instantly. She knocked on the door of Andino’s Brooklyn brownstone. It took another thirty seconds of knocking before Andino finally came to the door.
He opened it up with a, “What the fuck, you can’t call or something?”
Catherine pushed past her cousin, forcing the door wide open, and making Andino take a wide step back. She gave Andino a shove on his bare chest, and pointed a finger at his face. “You … you fucking asshole.”
“Hey, don’t come here to my home calling me names, Catty.”
Cross stepped into the hallway of the brownstone, and closed the door behind him. Andino passed him a look, and the man’s gaze narrowed.
“You told her, then?”
Cross shrugged. “Guess so.”
Catherine stepped in front of Cross, and back in the line of her cousin’s vision. “Don’t even pay him any attention. It’s me you need to be talking to, Andino.”
“How dare you?” Catherine shrieked.
Cross cringed. Catherine only got loud when she was at her limit.
“I beg your pardon?” Andino asked.
“You know why I’m here. You know what you did … what you’ve been doing!”
“Catherine, it’s not even a big deal. So your parents know you’ve been hustling for me, whatever. Who gives a shit? They clearly don’t. They just kept quiet because they wanted you to tell them. I went along with it, all right. That’s it.”
“No, that’s not it,” Catherine muttered, stepping up to her cousin again. “That’s not even close to being it, you prick.”
She poked her finger into Andino’s chest hard enough to make the guy flinch. As big as a linebacker, Andino easily towered over Catherine in height. He had a good eighty pounds of muscle on her slim one-hundred-twenty pounds, too. Yet, in the face of her rage, he took a hesitant step back. Cross didn’t blame him.
“You’ve listened to me say over and over again how anxious it made me to even think my parents would find out that I was hustling drugs,” Catherine hissed. “You played along with that, Andino, you joked with me about it, and fed those fears to get a rise out of me. Or, that’s what I thought. Because we’re family, right, so you didn’t mean me any harm. You couldn’t, but you did. You did that shit not because you knew how I felt, but because of what you wanted.”
“I—”
“Money,” Catherine interjected with another sharp jab of her finger into Andino’s chest. “That’s what this was about for you. Not the fact that telling me could have saved me a lot of unnecessary worrying and work hiding what I was doing all these years. No, you didn’t tell me because you liked the money I was making.”
“Exactly that,” Andino said simply.
Catherine straightened like someone had shoved a rod up her spine. She dropped her hand. “You’re not even ashamed of it.”
Andino lifted a single shoulder like it didn’t matter. “Nope. You’re fucking predictable, Catherine. All you would need was the slightest idea that your daddy didn’t like what you were doing, and you would fuck off somewhere else. Or even better yet, you’d run to your mother and get in on her shit. Here’s the thing, I wasn’t letting that happen. So yeah, I played along. Yeah, I worked your fears a bit to make sure you kept your business with me separated far away from your parents. And fuck yeah, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
Andino smirked, adding, “This is my crew, Catherine, and my money we’re talking about. It’s business. I supply you. I keep you going. You make me money. That’s how it works, and I want it to keep working. There’s nothing else to be said about it.”
Catherine nodded, and took a step back. “Well, fuck you, Andino. I’ve got news for you—I’ll never deal for you again. Not after this. I promise you that.”
“Catty, you don’t get it. That’s not how it works in this business. You don’t get to just drop the person that’s kept you above water and helped you make a name. You owe me for getting you where you are, sweetheart. You can be pissed off about it all you want. Still, when next month rolls around, make sure you’ve got my money, and you’re picking up your next package to run.”
“Hey,” Cross said, stepping in between the two. His gaze locked on Andino’s. “If she’s done, man, then that’s the fucking end of it. Let her be done if that’s what she wants.”
“That’s not how it works, Cross, and you know it.”
“It’s going to work that way this time.”
Cross would make sure of it.
“No, I don’t—”
“Andino, is something wrong?”
The new, quiet voice made Cross glance down the hall. A pale-skinned, willowy blonde leaned over the staircase railing at the end of the hallway. Teal and violet streaks colored her platinum hair. Nothing but a sheet she had clutched at her chest kept her covered. Peeks of tattoos covered her collarbones.
“Who are you?” Catherine asked.
The girl looked between Andino and Catherine. “Um …”
“None of your business,” Andino muttered to Catherine. Then, he looked to the girl. “Haven, head upstairs, all right?”
Haven didn’t look pleased, but she flicked a hand over her shoulder before she did as Andino asked. Colorful tattoos inked up her shoulders and arm.
“Who was that?” Catherine asked.
“I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah, mind my business. Who is she?”
“A woman,” Andino snapped.
Catherine cocked a brow in challenge. “She just shows up to your place wearing a sheet or something? Since when did you start seeing someone?”
“My personal life is not up for discussion. There’s enough fucking people in this family who seem to think it is.” Andino stepped to the side, and yanked open the front door. “Now, get the fuck out. The next time you come to my house, make sure you call first.”
“Fuck you,” Catherine spat over her shoulder.
“Remember what I said, too. This is business, Catherine. You don’t get to walk away from business just because you want to.”
Catherine flipped her middle finger over her shoulder as Cross followed behind her. “And you hear me—I won’t ever deal for you again, cousin.”
Andino slammed the door behind them with a bang.
“I’ll take you home,” Cross said as Catherine dug through her bag.
She looked up at him on the cold, empty street. “Actually, I think I’m going to call a cab.”
He frowned. “Why? I’m here. I can take you.”
“Just … you were supposed to be different, Cross. Especially back then, okay?”
“I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”
“You lied to me back then about this. Just like Andino. Just like my mom and dad. You were supposed to be different for me.”
“Catty, come on. That was a long time ago.”
Catherine scoffed. “Yeah, right? Still feels like yesterday, though.”
Those words stung.
Cross had to let them.
“I’ll call you,” Catherine said over her shoulder as she headed down the street. “I will, Cross. Give me some time.”
What choice did he have?