Page 23 of Unholy Cross

“Where are you?”she asked.“Cross?Where are you?I can’t see you.Please, help me.I-I don’t want to be stuck here.”

Could he hear her?

“Please come back,” she whispered.

The sound of tiny feet scurrying through the dark had her turning in circles.Fear spiked, causing her heart to pound painfully in her chest.It surrounded her, denying her a way to escape.The light that had promised a haven slowly faded until it blinked out.Tears poured down her face, the sound growing closer and closer leaving her no recourse except to cover her ears and scream.

She sat up, heart pounding as terror sluiced through her.It took a moment to realize she was in a bed.In a strange room.With a strange woman staring at her.

“It’s okay, Lorelei,” the woman said.“You’re safe here.”

Here?Where was here?And where was Cross?

“The man you were with, he’ll be back,” the woman continued.“He had to do something for his brother.”

Brother?

What happened after she passed out?

****

Cross parked the Monarquecompany car on the sleepy street.Once upon a time, the run-down neighborhood had been shiny and new, allowing single families the chance to own a home and grow their families.Now, it lay on the outskirts from the heart of Las Vegas, where the low income attracted drug dealers and morally ambiguous people.

This was where Simon Shrewbridge resided.A man who borrowed twenty-thousand from Jeremiah, knowing he’d never be able to pay it back.Especially not with the interest tacked on.He’d never understood why Jeremiah would lend money to a man who wouldn’t be able to pay it back.It made no sense to Cross.

He walked up the broken concrete walkway that led up to the front steps.The bushes surrounding the tiny porch were so overgrown, he ended up trampling a few vines.He banged on the door, listened for a moment, and had the gut feeling no one was home.He left the stoop and followed the driveway around to the back, where a detached garage rested.A light was on in the upstairs window.

Pulling his gun from his back pocket, he headed for the side door and discovered it open.He entered and saw a set of stairs leading up, and he theorized it was some sort of apartment.His boots thudded on the wooden steps and just as he reached the top, the door flew open and he brought up his gun on the person, who turned out to be a very pretty woman.

Wide brown eyes stared at him, then dropped down to the weapon he had pointed in her face.Shining in her eyes was a kernel of innocence, and he slowly lowered his gun.She blinked up at him and took a step back.

“Who are you?”he demanded.

She bit her lower lip.“W-Willa.”

“Willa.Are you related to Simon Shrewbridge?”

“He’s my fa-father.”

His chin jutted to the apartment behind her.“He in there?”

“No.”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

He cocked his head.“Don’t make me hurt you.”

Suddenly, before he could blink, she punched him in the stomach.Hard.He let out anoofand watched as she darted back into the room, trying to slam the door.His hand shot out and slammed it back open.Willa’s eyes widened.Quick as lightning, he reached out and grabbed her arm as she spun, intending to escape.

“Let me go!”she spat, grabbing one of his fingers and bending it in the wrong direction, in a losing attempt to free herself.When that didn’t work, she bent and bit the back of his hand.Gone was the scared little waif.She’d been replaced with a biting, hissing hellcat.

He grabbed her hair and yanked.With a yelp, she released his skin from her mouth.

“You do that again, I’m going to return the gesture,” he growled.“And I guarantee I’ll bite harder than you.”

“Fuck off,” she snarled, slapping where he held her.

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