Page 97 of The Bronze Garza
That said, I’m getting too old for this shit, so it’s time for me to retire. But I know you won’t stop hunting me until you get the information you’re really after. So here it is. All of it. Including the cash paid for the second job that amateur botched. I never keep payments for jobs undone, so feel free to refund it for me.
Now let me retire in peace.
See you in hell, motherfuckers.
Soul
As we peruse the rest of the contents from the envelope, the only thing I feel is disappointment. In situations like these, being right is like a gut punch.
I’d hoped for a surprise instead of anI knew it.
“Looks like your hunch was on the head all along,” Reuben comments as he scans the black and white images on the counter.
I rub my jaw and blow out a breath. “Was really hoping I wasn’t.”
ChapterTwenty-Five
“Trouble it is.”
Lyra
I’m eating cashews on the kitchenfloor when I hear the front door open and shut. I don’t have to look to know it’s him. My body thrums like a plucked string whenever he’s near.
I listen to his footfalls.
Keys hit a surface somewhere.
Something rustles.
A crinkle of plastic.
The closer the thuds of his boots get, the wilder my heart beats.
More rustling and crinkling as he deposits something on the kitchen island. When he rounds it and sees me on the floor, he halts.
Resting my head back against the cupboard, I lilt, “Honey, I’m home.”
He regards me for several beats. “You good?”
“I’m sick…” I say through a groan. “Sick of people always asking me if I’m okay.”
He gets a bottle of coconut water from the fridge. “Well, are you?”
“Yes,” I stress. “I’m thinking.”
He pops the cap off the bottle. “About?”
“A corner I’ve written myself into.”
“And the floor’s helping with that?”
“Yes.”
He takes a drink of coconut water then shrugs. “Okay.”
As I stuff cashews into my mouth, I drag my eyes over him. His denims are soiled, his boots scuffed and dusty. But from the waist up, he’s as usual—a tall glass of flamed whiskey.
It was almost nine when he left this morning, and it’s minutes past nine now. “Where were you all day?”
