The Hustle (Irreparable 4)

My smile fades as I turn and walk toward the foyer to meet Javier. I’m such an idiot. For a fleeting moment, I wanted to believe Eduardo is doing this for me and Javier, that he loves us enough to change. But his transaction with Tug is merely about removing Tug from my life permanently. It’s all a play to prove once again that he has all the power.

I won’t let him kill Tug, even if it costs me everything. Tug

has suffered enough because of me and the thought that more is on the way reminds me Eduardo is a despicable monster incapable of loving anyone but himself. I don’t love him or this life. I love the illusion I’ve created.

Regardless of the effort Eduardo puts into being like my father, he’ll always be a gang banger and a thug. His true nature can’t be contained. I can never be happy with him.

As I load Javier into the car, I come up with a plan to reach Tug. He has to know what he’s walking into. I have to save him.

Her skin glistens in the sunlight filtering in through the window as Peyton sleeps peacefully beside me. I want to wake her and see if last night meant for her what it did for me. Hope is the best word to describe what I feel. Hope that I’m not afraid of how I feel. Hope that she feels the same way. Hope that it’s possible for us to have a future.

As I watch her sleep, I continually shut out the doubt and the worries of what life holds for us. There are a million outcomes that can steal the joy I feel this morning, but I refuse to allow that to happen. Instead, I snuggle in close to Peyton and pretend that we’re the only two people alive as I drift back to sleep.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Peyton sings in my ear as her fingers toy with my hair.

I open my eyes, groaning as I wrap my arm around her waist and draw her body flush with mine. “Come back to sleep with me.”

“It’s almost ten and we’re supposed to be at your brother’s by noon.”

The vague recollection of inviting her to lunch pops into my thoughts. It was right before shower sex. Am I ready for her to meet my family? They’re perhaps more fucked up that I am.

“Peyton?’

“Yes,” she hums as her lips trail lightly over my chest.

“Was last night worth the risk?”

“Hmmm . . . and then some.” She slips in under the sheet and lies on top of me. “Let’s find out how this morning feels.”

Who am I to deny a woman looking for answers?

We pull into the driveway at Brady’s house, but before we go inside I feel like I should warn Peyton. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

I take in a breath and let it out along with my confession. “My brother’s wife and I have a history.”

“Okay.”

Her response is instant and unexpected without any hesitation. Not even a follow-up question driven by curiosity.

“We slept together,” I add in the spirit of being completely honest with her.

“Okay.”

Again, her expression doesn’t show any interest. “She’s why Maria left me.”

“Okay.”

I release a frustrated breath, gripping the steering wheel. “Stop saying okay. It’s not okay.”

“For you maybe, but for me . . . it’s okay.”

“I need you to know that I don’t always make smart choices where she’s concerned.”

“Says who?”

“Me . . . Whenever she’s needed me, I’ve chosen her over anyone else in my life, regardless of how much I cared about them.”