Page 58 of The Bronze Garza
Daddy: Don’t try to run either. There’s nowhere you can go where he won’t find you.
Me: This is ridiculous.
Daddy: It’s for your own safety, Lyly. Stop acting like a child and settle yourself.
Daddy: And I love you.
I’m furiously typing out a reply with colorful words I’ve never before had to—or wanted to—use with my dad, when it’s interrupted by a call from Patrick.
“Hey, I am outside,” he says when I pick up.
“Be right out.”
I turn and flounce out of the house, and I’m not two steps off the porch when Reuben is behind me. I stop and he stops. I move and he moves.
“Seriously, Reuben?”
“Boss’s orders.”
I know what this is. It’s Torin getting back at me. This is howheirritates me and becomes a pain in my ass. Karmic justice.
I head out the front gate to where Patrick is waiting with his trunk open.
With a frown, his eyes bounce from me to Reuben and back to me. “What is happening? Where are your bags?”
“So, there’s been a slight change of plans.”
“What do you mean?”
“Daddy is insisting that I keep security detail,” I explain. “If I go back home, Reuben here and a couple others are going to be there as well. And I’m sure the last thing you want on your time-off are a bunch of men in black hovering around.”
“And can you tell me again why you are going along with all of this?”
“Daddy thinks—”
“You are a grown fucking woman, Lyra!” he half-shouts, his outburst catching me off-guard.
“Sure. But do you think that means if I tell Reuben not to follow me he won’t?” I turn to Reuben. “Reuben, stop following me.”
Reuben’s lips twitch. “No can do.”
“Go and get your things and come with me, Lyra,” Patrick says. “The farthest they can follow you is outside the gates. Any further without your permission would be trespassing.”
Reuben shoots one hand up like he’s in class. “Uh, except that we have inked permission for full access to the property. Pass codes and all.”
“You have got to be joking,” Patrick says in disbelief. “Mitch has lost his mind.”
“So, yeah, I think it’s best if I stay here until Daddy gets back,” I say.
Patrick shakes his head and shuts his trunk in defeat. “This is terrible. I was hoping we could go out tomorrow night and do something fun, you know.”
“Bet you were,” Reuben mutters under his breath then covers it up with a cough.
I shoot him a narrowed glare. But luckily, Patrick didn’t hear him.
“I’m so sorry for the wasted drive, Patrick.” I walk up and pull him into a hug. “Rain check?”
“Sure, Lyra.” His hug is half-hearted. “Call me if you need me, all right?”
