The Hustle (Irreparable 4)

Now her brow furrows as she takes in my words and then her eyes widen with realization.

“Your brother’s the baby daddy?” I nod, watching her expression closely. “Ah, and you chose her over Maria?”

“Not exactly. Tori was going through a rough time. My brother was on the road and she was severely depressed. She kept phoning me and I kept going to her. I lied to Maria to go see her.”

“Why did you lie?”

I’m not certain I even know the answer to that question. “Maria was tired of my shit. She felt Tori had other friends and family she could depend on and didn’t need me.”

“How did you feel?”

“Tori’s my best friend.”

She grins. “Now who’s lying?”

“I loved Maria.”

“And you loved Tori, too.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

I shake my head, trying not laugh as her understanding is almost comical. “Why is it okay? What if I make the same stupid mistake with you?”

“What if you do?” She motions between us with her hand. “Then whatever this is we’ve started isn’t meant to work out.”

“Faith?” I blink, and turn my head. “You’re speaking about faith?”

“No, I’m speaking in reality. Look, Aidan . . . I’m not some insecure girl that needs a man to define who I am. I’m a grown woman and responsible for myself. Maybe that makes me a bitch or stupid, or whatever, but I don’t care. I have feelings for you. Last night was amazing, but if it doesn’t work out, if something or someone keeps us apart, then so be it. I’m not about to dwell on a past I was never a part of, and worrying about it won’t do any good.”

Her naïveté prickles my skin, because it’s not Tori I’m actually worried about coming between us. “And what if Maria turned up tomorrow and wanted me back?” I inhale deep before letting the truth out. “I have to be honest, Peyton. I’m still in love with her.”

“You’ve been clear on how you feel about Maria, but I can’t live life focusing on the ‘what if’s’ and neither should you. Life is meant to be lived in the right now’s. And right now . . . I want to spend whatever time I can with you while I have you. Right now . . . Got it, grumpy pants?”

She shoots me a sassy look before getting out of the car, leaving me stunned. I’ve never met anyone like Peyton. I finally understand it’s Peyton’s spirit that has revived me. She, like me, refuses to be broken by the things in life she can’t control; only Peyton goes about in a way that makes her happy rather than miserable. She’s a survivor.

I can learn a lot from her.

And in time, I could fall hard for her.

Marco opens my door for me after finding a spot close to a children’s clothing boutique. As I step out, my eyes move two doors down to the store I need. With his guard up, doing his job and making no effort to engage in personal conversation, Marco follows me and Javier inside.

I quickly gather enough clothing to keep Javier busy in the changing room for at least fifteen minutes. Once he’s inside, I tell Marco to keep an eye on him so I can shop for something special for Eduardo at the boutique next door. He nods, appearing not to see through the mountain of bullshit I’ve just fed him.

I slip into the alley and single out a young teenage boy to recruit. His eyes stay on me as I approach him. “Qué quieres, señora?”

“Quiero hacer un trato,” I respond, and wait as he stares at me with curiosity. “Did you hear me? Do you speak English? I said, what I want . . . is to make a deal.”

It takes less than a minute to negotiate terms of our agreement. The kid could have asked for more and I could have offered less, so the arrangement is fair. I pay him up front and pray he follows through. He’s my only hope as everyone in town knows who I am and they’ll report back to Eduardo.

While my new friend completes his task, I go into the store Marco expects me to be in and pick out a nice piece of lacy lingerie to surprise Eduardo, one that will keep him happy and calm. As I pay for my purchase, the kid slides in behind me, living up to his end of the agreement as he slips the disposable cell phone into the pocket of my jacket and continues on to the back of the store.

My stomach sinks as I walk the sidewalk back to the children’s boutique and spot Eduardo’s car parked in front. His eyes find me the moment I step through the doors of the boutique and stay on me until I reach him. I force a bright smile, telling him hello as I wrap my arms around his neck. His posture remains stiff and his arms don’t reach out to return my embrace. As I release him, I watch his tightly set jaw tick with agitation. His eyes narrow as his hand curls tightly around my arm.

“Where were you?” he asks. There’s no mistaking the bite in each word, emphasizing his anger and disappointment. The man asking isn’t the one who has professed his love for me recently. This man is my captor and I’ve betrayed him.

Thinking quickly, I hold the smal