Page 75 of The Bronze Garza
“Is that why you’re so detached?” I take the risk to ask. “No emotional attachments, no wife, no kids. Nothing tethering you to life. So you can take the risks of the job without—”
“No one knows about this,” he cuts me off, voice hard. “Not even my brothers. Think about repeating any of what I told you to anyone and you’ll regret it.”
No oneknows? Not even Reuben, who I’ve deduced is his right-hand man? I’m confused. “So, why did you tellme?”
“Of all people,” he mutters under his breath. As if frustrated with himself, he grips the steering wheel, jaw locked tight. “I...I don’t know.”
I’ve no clue what to make of this. That he can barely even stand me, yet he just divulged that kind of information to me. Not that I would ever repeat it to anyone. I barely even understand what any of it means, except that it’s dangerous and he has deathly powerful connections. When I jokingly asked, “who are you?” earlier, I’d really expected him to reply to me with nothing but a grunt or one of his usual irritable answers.
I can’t even attribute his unexpected candor to alcohol, because he’d not even so much as sipped a glass of champagne tonight.
Now his mood has gone dark on me.
I knew asking those personal questions about him being detached was digging too deep, but I’m desperate to understand him. Toknowhim. And after divulging what he did, I just couldn’t resist risking the chance to go deeper.
With how aggravated he is right now, and how quick he’d been to cut me off, I’m guessing I was on to something. He’s detached because he believes it’s better that way. Maybe he’s convinced that a fate like Ray’s awaits him, so he’s taken preemptive measures and disarmed death.
No fear.
When nothing but tense silence ensues for longer than I can endure, I crack it. “Anyway, it’s time to uphold your end of the bargain.”
“What bargain?”
“You forgot already?” I harrumph. “The deal you made to get me to accompany you tonight.”
He groans as if in pain. “Oh, that.”
“Were you seriously not expecting me to cash in?”
A long-suffering sigh. “What childish nonsense do you wanna do?”
“Ice skating.”
“No.”
“You can’t sayno!” I’m rightfully indignant. “That’s not how it works. I did my part and now it’s time to do yours.”
“I’m saying no to ice-skating because we might be out, but I’m stillworking. The minute I put those skates on, I’m vulnerable,” he tells me. “I can’t very well protect you with ice skates on, can I?”
“Don’t you realize by now that I don’t care about being protected?”
“Lyra.”
“Ugh. Okay, the amusement park then. Ferris wheels and cotton candy.”
“No. Too much crowd. Not much control. Would have to call extra security.”
“Extrasecurity?” I glance in the rearview mirror. “Is there security on us right now?”
“Pick something else.”
I drum my fingers on my thigh as I run through all possible activities that would fall under “childish.” Not because I actually want to do something childish, but because it would be so much fun watchinghimhate-participate.
Everything that I can think of, however, would require us being out in open public letting our guard down, which he would never agree to. I’m starting to think I got hoodwinked.
“How about this?” I say with a dramatically defeated sigh. “Since there’s nothing we can really do tonight that wouldn’t put you in a ‘vulnerable’ position, let’s just move this under the ‘You owe me a favor’ column.”
“Not sure I wanna oweyoua favor.”
