The Hustle (Irreparable 4)

“I was hoping to discuss that in person.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“We’ll see you then. Thank you.”

Before leaving, I let my secretary know I’ll be out of the office for the afternoon. When I try to reach Brady or Tori, their phones go to voicemail. Then I remember Brady’s in the studio working on Second Chance’s next album and Tori planned to go with him today. Most likely their phones are off to avoid distractions.

As I drive to the school, various scenarios run through my mind. I should have made Mrs. Jones tell me what happened over the phone. Attempting to guess is brutal, as is finding a parking spot at the school. I’m five minutes later than I told Mrs. Jones I would be. A spot finally opens up and I park and go inside.

Andrew and Javier sit side by side in the lobby as I come through the door. They glance at me, wearing expressions like scolded puppies. I let out a laugh as I stare at them, reminded of a time my father came to pick me and Liv up after we started a food fight in the cafeteria. Actually it was Liv who started it. At least that was my story then and I’m still sticking with it.

I speak with the secretary, who escorts me into Mrs. Jones office. I’m greeted by a petite brunette in her late forties. She stands and shakes my hand before offering me a seat. I feel like I’m back in elementary school, as though I’m in trouble as I stare across the desk greeted with concern and displeasure.

“I’m very sorry for your loss. I’m sure Javier losing his mother has been very difficult for both of you.”

“You have no clue how difficult,” I answer, annoyed with her. “Please save me the concerned pleasantries and tell me why the boys are being sent home.”

The look on her face confirms what an ass she thinks I am, and if I thought she was offering genuine condolences, I would care. Since the day J

avier started this stuffy-ass school, the staff’s been trying to get the details. Tori hears the rumors when she volunteers. They’re a bunch of gossiping hens and I’m not here to feed them. As Mrs. Jones stares at me with superiority, I consider telling her exactly how Maria died. It would be amusing to watch her shit herself.

“Very well, Mr. Hunter. One of the boys in our program was teasing Javier about not having a mother.” My jaw clamps tight as I wait for her to continue. “Andrew stepped in and asked the boy to stop.”

A smile forms out of pride for my nephew. “Obviously there’s more.”

She nods with her lips pursed tight. “The boy continued and Andrew punched him . . . in the face.” I have to resist standing up and fist pumping when her eyebrows rise, and she adds, “While the child’s behavior was inappropriate, I can’t condone violence for any reason. Andrew has been suspended and Javier refuses to stay at school without him.”

“Can you blame him?” I mutter under my breath.

“Mr. Hunter, this is serious. Javier is going to face these types of comments his entire life. He needs to learn how to deal with them.”

“Why?” I shout, standing up and leaning over her desk. “Why can’t the disgusting little brat who teases a child about his dead mother be dealt with?”

“He has been.”

“How?”

“We’ve sat down and we talked about appropriate behavior.” Her smile tops the ignorant bliss charts.

“Jesus lady, did you build a campfire and sing Kumbaya too? The kid’s a brat and without consequences will always be a brat. He got away with acting like a little prick; meanwhile my nephew gets suspended for sticking up to the bully.”

“You’re out of line, Mr. Hunter.

“Good, then you won’t care if I take my troublemaking kids out of here and leave.”

She nods, finally stunned into shutting the hell up. As I reach the door, she says, “When you’ve calmed down, I would like to discuss how to do what’s best for Javier.”

“I’ll decide what’s best for Javier.”

The boys remain silent as they walk to my car and climb inside. I take a moment to breathe before I settle into the driver’s seat. Regardless of how pissed I am, I have to be the model of responsibility. Given anger overpowers reason, I drive to my brother’s house without speaking.

Once inside, I tell the boys to go upstairs, sending Drew to his room and Javier to the guest room. I don’t know what the responsible, grown-up response is in this situation. So, they’re banished until Tori gets home.

“He did what!” Tori shouts as Brady laughs. “This isn’t funny, Brady. We have to tell him that he is never to use violence to solve a problem.”

“Fuck that!” Brady responds immediately. “We tell him good job and if the kid does it again to punch him square in the mouth.”

I try not to laugh as Tori looks seriously pissed. But come on. She married Brady and it’s no secret he’s a hot-head.