Page 140 of The Bronze Garza
“And that’s the most tragic thing of all,” he mutters through a sigh and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “You can’t imagine how much I blame myself for all that’s happened to you. And since I’ve proved to be a terrible judge of character, I’ve decided I have no right telling you what to do anymore.
“So, from here on out, I’m letting you choose your own path without interference. I might not like that man for you, but I know that he’ll do anything to keep you safe. I can only hope he’s able—and willing—to give you the life you deserve.”
“Again, Daddy,” I stress as I sprinkle seeds into the fountain, “it was just a fling.”
He plants a kiss to my temple. “Oh, Lyly, you have a lot to learn about men.”
~
The following evening, we’re leaving Dad’s favorite restaurant after a fun night of dinner and jazz, when we spot Torin freaking Garza in the parking lot. Leaned patiently against his big, black pickup truck, hands tucked in his front pockets. Waiting.
And just like that, I forget my name, purpose, and date of birth. Blood rushes in my ears, and my heart overheats, on the verge of short-circuiting. Like magnet to steel, my verysoulis being tugged toward him.
No doubt about it, this manownsme. Heart, mind, body, soul.
I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours.
“Oh, dear,” Mom mumbles.
As we near him, he straightens from the vehicle. “Henderson. Lysandra,” he greets with a nod. “All’s well?”
“All is well, thanks to you,” Mom replies with a too-sweet smile.
“He did the job he waspaidto do,” Dad says grumpily. “The only ‘credit’ deserved is the big, fat check he cleared.”
At this, Torin fixes his attention on Dad. “We good?”
“For now,” Dad grunts out, then walks off.
“I’ll take her home,” Torin tells Mom, adding quietly, “Maybe.”
Mom pulls me into a hug. “See you at home, sweetie.” Then whispers at my ear, “Hotdamn.”
“Mom,” I hiss.
She snickers and releases me, hurrying after Dad.
Left alone with the bronze god, I shift from one foot to the next and transfer my purse from one hand to the other. Just the mere presence of the man unnerves me. “I’m not interested in this,” I somehow manage to get out.
One eyebrow kicks up. “Interested in what?”
“In you ghosting me then showing up when you feel like it and looking at me like…likethat.”
“Like what?”
“Like…” I swallow. “Like you own me.”
His deadpan expression doesn’t change, and he doesn’t even have to voice the words for me to hear them.I do own you.
“This shit was bigger than you know, Lyra. Led to a lot of arrests. There were all kinds of loose ends to tie up, to ensure they’d be no blowbacks,” he tells me. “I didn’t ghost you. Was justworking.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes. “It still would’ve taken less than a minute to reply to one of my messages,Rambo.”
With a jerk of his head, he moves to open the passenger door. “C’mon.”
Though my feet itch to move at his command, I remain grounded. “What if I’m no longer interested?”
He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws something. “Then I guess you should have this back.”
