Page 46 of The Bronze Garza

“Why not?” I whine after him. “I promise I won’t—”

“‘Cause they’re dead.”

Oh. Oh God.Jesus.I went too far.

I had no idea.

As he heads up the stairs two at a time with his protein shake, he barks, “And get the fuck off my counter!”

Now that I do deserve. Sure, I enjoy vexing him, but not to this extent. I can’t even begin to imagine what losing both parents is like. Would Mom ever be in the running for a “mother of the year” award? No. But at least I still have her, showing up whenever I need her.

This glimpse into the man behind the grump, though, helps to understand him a little bit. A loss so great could transform anyone into an ill-tempered, misanthrope if they allowed it to.

After I’ve finished my smoothie, I hop off the counter and clean it with Lysol. Then jog upstairs to get my laptop.

Our rooms are on opposite ends of the hall, but when I know Torin is in his room, I always tiptoe down to his side like I’m doing now. Because I’m a creep.

The door is locked. It always is.

I press my ear to the dark wood, if only to hear him breathing, but all I hear now is the shower running.

I test the knob.

Locked.

As I swivel and pad to my room, I bite back a smirk. He’s smart to lock himself inside. I do weird shit when I’m bored.

Getting my laptop, I head back downstairs and trek across the backyard to Jo’s, who’s fast becoming one of my favorite people. Externally, she looks so intimidating and unwelcoming, but she’s such a darling. Whereas Mr. Grumpy upstairs looks alluring and warm and handsome, but he’s actually a giant a-hole.

A yawn pries Jo’s lips apart like a snake getting ready to attack as she detangles the garden hose in preparation for her sprinkling routine.

“Stephen King kept you up again last night?” I ask.

“Lee Child.”

“Another one to add to my ‘To Read’ list then?”

“Definitely.”

I skip up onto her porch and settle into “my” chair. “I’m gonna attempt to do something today, Jo.”

Another long yawn. “What’s that?”

I open up my laptop. “Write a book.”

This gets her full attention. “You know how?”

“Nope,” I say with a giddy grin. “But I do know the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ so that’s a start, right?”

Jo throws her head back and laughs. “Go for it. Something tells me you’ll be good at it.”

~

Hours fly whenyou’re writing words, getting lost in an imaginary world. I’ve no idea where I’m going with the garbage I’m spewing or if it’s even any good, but man is it cathartic creating a world straight from my brain. Unlike my own life, I have so much control in this made-up world. No one can hurt me here.

I don’t realize that the sun has shifted from one end of the sky to the other until a sharp whistle pierces my focus. I pause mid typing and glance up from my computer screen.

Jo is passed out in the chair beside me, mouth hung open. Confused, I shift my gaze from her to the yard and find Torin standing just outside the sliding glass doors of his walk-out basement. He’s dressed like he’s either going somewhere or he went somewhere. Dark denims, leather jacket with a black tee underneath, and macho boots.