Page 63 of The Bronze Garza

His deep laughter follows me.

~

I wake upin an unfamiliar room.

I jolt up, panic erupting in my chest. Frantic, I stumble out of bed, the sheets tangling around my ankles, tripping me. Heart racing, my hair whips across my cheek as I glance around the room.

When my gaze lands on the hummingbird on the wall, I press my hand to my chest and exhale a long, mitigating breath.

Oh. I remember now. I remember where I am.

I slump to the side of the bed, relief rushing in. It’s been months since I’ve had a panic attack like this. I used to have them often. After being in the penthouse for so long, I’d wake up in my room, not recognize where I am, and immediately think, “It’s happening again.”

Strangely enough, this didn’t happen when I slept at Torin’s house for the first time. I’d woken up in that room and felt...safe. Like I belonged there.

As the panic in my chest subsides and my heart returns to its normal pace, I straighten up and pad to the windows. Lightly, I shift the sheer curtains aside and peek outside.

From this vantage point, I can see the front yard in its entirety. The gardens, the water fountain, all the way down to the palatial gates.

Life’s in progress. A couple holding hands over a fishpond. An older woman feeding birds by a smaller four-tier water fountain. The grass is so green, the plants so colorful, the sun so bright over it all.

So deceptively beautiful and peaceful. Life, that is. Had I not experienced life’s deception firsthand, a setting like this would so easily lull me into a false sense of security. I’d fall in love with life, with its seductive touch, its whispered promises.

Too bad I know better.

A black jeep pulls into one of the “reserved” lots, and a man and a woman get out. I recognize the man right away. One of the twins from a few days ago. The serious one.

The gorgeous woman appears to be going off at him about something, hand gestures and all. Though he appears completely unphased, his attention fixed on her like nothing else exists.

While she’s still heatedly mouthing off, he grabs her, drapes her up against him, and kisses her. Like that, she’s subdued. Melting against him like ice-cream on a hot pavement. When his hands drift and palm her ass, she shoves him away and starts going off at him again. He grins at her, and it’s only then that I realize I’m smiling.

I let the curtain fall back into place, drifting away from the windows as a pang of sadness melts inside my chest like butter in a skillet. I don’t begrudge anyone their happiness. Everyone deserves felicity, and love, and all good things, right?

So why do some of us get shit? What did I do that was so bad? What did Kristie do? Simone? All those girls in that building?

How does God decide who deserves a lifetime of goodness and who deserves suffering? Does he make random bets with the Devil when he’s bored, like he did with Job? Or are there angels in on-the-job training who occasionally muck things up?

I don’t allow the sadness to linger for long. Sadness is a visitor that I entertain for no more than a few minutes at a time. This much is in my control. I refuse to sit and break bread with it. So I bid it farewell for now, invite gratitude in to stay, force myself to smile, then pad to the bathroom to get ready for a new day.

~

Showered and dressed, I head downstairs with my laptop. I’ve just hit the landing when I hearhisvoice. Scolding someone.

“You’re too paranoid,Grandpa,” replies a weary female voice. “You seem to thinkeveryonein the world is evil and out to get me. I like it better when you’re away. Such a killjoy.”

“Tough luck,” he returns in that growly voice of his. “Stop being so fucking reckless. You’re not a child anymore. Grow the hell up and start acting more responsibly.”

“Ughh,gawwd. You’re so annoying!”

With soft, stealthy movements, I direct my steps toward the French doors, hoping to slip out without them noticing.

“Hey,” the tired female voice comes at my back. “You’re Lyra, right?”

Well, damn.

On a deep but quiet breath, I brace myself, then turn.

I should have taken a deeper, more fortifying breath, because it’s knocked right out of me when my eyes fall on him.