Page 67 of The Bronze Garza
“You keep forgetting I’m not my brothers, Stefan,” I say casually, non-threateningly. I stop just inside the terrace doors, out of view, where I can seeherbut she can’t see me. “You keep forgetting that you are where you are because of me. You keep forgetting that without the connections I give you, your fall from grace would be hard and loud. So embarrassingly hard your bones would shatter.”
“Gesù, always so serious with you,” he says. “All I was asking for is a ‘please’.”
“There’s no fucking ‘please’ if I’m paying you. “You either get ‘please’ or paid. You choose.”
“It is never a pleasure doing business with you, Tor,” he grumbles. “I’ll call with a name soon.”
I end the call and tuck the phone in my pocket, unable to take my eyes off her. She’s typing furiously on her computer, deep in concentration, lower lip caught between her teeth. The simple, innocent act stirs something inside me. I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when it comes to her. She’s somehow invaded me from the inside, attacking every cell like a virus. She lives inside my head, swelling bigger and bigger each day like a goddamn tumor. I don’t want to like her but I do. I don’t want to want her, but I do.
She’s perfection.
She’s everything and more.
But I’m not for her. She needs someone good. Someone better. Someone who can take care of her the way she should be taken care of. Love her and treasure her.
And that person isn’t me. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
The Torin who loved Lexi was young and unscarred, emotionally raw and vulnerable, open to connection.Human.
But I lost myself somewhere in Afghanistan. I had a lifetime of fucks to give and I lost them all on one tour. Lost all compassion, sensitivity, basic human decency...
Hardened even further after I started this line of work, being commissioned by some of the most corrupted leaders in power, having a third-row seat to true evil. Shit’s left me completely desensitized. Apathetic. Dispassionate.
Which would only do someone like Lyra Henderson more harm than good. She’s tough, determined, and surprisingly fearless. But under it all, I see the sadness she tries to hide, I see the anger she doesn’t show.
She’s not looking to be protected.
She’s looking to be loved. To be cherished. To be held. To be told she’s beautiful, worth it, wanted.
Regrettably, I’m incapable of giving her any of those things.
With me, she’ll freeze to death.
I like her too much to inflict myself on her.
So with that thought, I turn, walk right out the front doors, get in my jeep, and get the hell out of there.
ChapterEighteen
“Need a favor.”
Lyra
I pretend I don’t see hercoming toward me. The woman I’d seen outside the bedroom window with the serious twin. The woman I’ve since learned—thanks to a chatty Tillie—is Lexi.
The ex.
I’ve been here two days now and I’ve managed to avoid a run-in with her at all costs. Whether I was out in the front gardens, in the B&B kitchen, in the lounge area, by the pool area, or in the deep-cut back gardens, if I saw her coming anywhere close to me, I’d immediately go in the opposite direction.
But this time there’s no escape.
I’m sitting at the umbrella table in the backyard of the condo, and she’s making a beeline toward me from the French doors. My only escape is the hedge gate to the right of me. Which I can’t escape through, because not only will it be obvious I’m running from her, but it’s suspiciously blocked off by the gardeners with a bunch of large gardening paraphernalia.
It’s almost as if she preplanned this approach.
So, feigning unawareness, I keep my head down and type away at my keyboard.
“Hey,” she greets when she’s in front of me seconds later.
