Page 43 of The Bronze Garza

“Hey, don’t judge her methods. She’sveryprofessional.” He winks and makes theperfectsign with his fingers. “Five stars. Definitely recommend.”

Full of shit.If this fucker’s “traumatized,” then I’m a pig’s aunt. “So, basically, you came here to getmeto hit up Stefano.”

“Yup,” the twins reply in unison.

“Fine.” I throw the towel over my shoulder. “Not like I’m on vacation or anything.”

“Well,” Trent says, “at least we know one thing for sure now.”

I nod. “It wasn’t an accident.”

Skullaz is a motorcycle club in Vegas. Used to be a decent enough biker club, but somewhere along the line it became a front for a kill-for-hire operation. If a member from Skullaz is behind this hit and run, then someone hired him to do it.

Not that I’d doubted Lyra to begin with. That woman is nowhere near paranoid. I don’t even think she fears the danger she’s in. Seems like she’s just going along with everything to appease the people in her life.

I’ve been where she’s at right now. That point where you don’t care if you live or die anymore. And it’s a dangerous place to be.

“How is she?” Trent asks.

“Annoying.”Under my skin. In my head. “Either of you wanna take her off my hands?”

“Lexi and I have a thing,” Trent replies at the same time True says, “I have a therapy session.”

I glare at them both as I grab my water bottle from the treadmill cup-holder. “I’ve made all you motherfuckers rich. The least you could do is show some gratitude and let me have my goddamn vacation in goddamn peace.”

“No offense,” True starts, “but sawing and sanding wood in your basement is kind of pathetic for a vacation. Damn man, after the last couple of jobs you’ve had, you should be in the Caribbean somewhere relaxing with a sweet island honey.”

“Yeah? And how’d you be able to drop in and do shit like this?” I say dryly. “Beg me to do your jobs for you ‘cause you don’t wanna ‘deal’ with your own cousin?”

Wandering around the room, like the restless, ADHD man-child that he is, he cocks his head and thinks about it. “Well, yeah. You’re right. We definitely need you close. Gotta suck to be you, man.”

I glance at Trent and he shakes his head and sighs “Why doIalways get ‘the look’ when he’s an ass? He’s your brother too, you know.”

“You’re at least getting laid, right?” True asks, peering out the window.

For fuck’s sake. “True—”

“Whoa. Who’s that?”

“What?”

“Thatgorgeous, peach-butt babe doing stretches in your yard.”

Ah.Lyra.

For the week and a half that she’s been here so far, she’s developed somewhat of a routine. Yoga in the side-yard garden in the mornings—which I may or may not watch her do from the perfect view of this office. Afterward, she feeds herself a large smoothie on top of my kitchen island. Then she finds me wherever I am and annoys the ever-loving shit out of me until I threaten to take her to the B&B, which is usually when she leaves me alone and goes to spend the rest of the day with Jo. Then she ends the evening with more yoga in the living room, while I watch from the kitchen, fantasizing, depraved, devious things I shouldn’t. But, I mean, if she’s going to bend and twist like that in front of me…

A curious Trent walks over to the window and looks out with his twin.

He whistles.

“I’m telling Lexi,” I say, feeling inexplicably chafed by them ogling her.

A light chuckle. “Shows how little you know my fiancée. If she was here, she’d be right here whistling along with me. She knows she owns me.”

Neither of them have ever really seen Lyra in person, only videos and profile photos, and none of them have ever been assigned to work with her or Mitch Henderson directly, so I can’t fault their reactions. Plus she looks drastically different now from those videos and photos. A complete knockout. Worst part is, she’s got no fucking clue.

“Yo, Tor, is that offer to babysit her for you still on the table?” True asks.