My Mistake

Ireland Rowlins is a pathological robber. She hits a music store, and is almost caught in the process. By the store owners son. She is drawn to him, and leaves the store empty handed. Since her mistake, she's been going back and forth, between deciding to turn herself in and ending her reign, and hiding the past she is willing to put behind her.


2. The Beginning

Two Months Earlier

I walked through the outlet mall with my mother. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. Strings and Things, the new Music store.

"Hey Mom," I said, nonchalantly. "I need some new strings for my guitar. Can we check out that new store?" My mother looked over and studied the store for a bit.

"Sure," she said, with a dismissive shrug. "Why not?" I could tell she was distracted. Good. She won't suspect a thing.

We walked into the store, and I scanned it to learn the usual: security camera placing, store layout, accessibility to different amenities around the store.

"Welcome to Strings and Things," the bored looking sales representative barely greeted my mother and I. I sent a tight smirk in his direction as my mother smiled at him warmly. She approached him and struck up a conversation as I went to go check out the store.

There were tons of instruments hanging from the wall. I was particularly drawn to a very sleek looking electric guitar. I could earn a lot of money off that thing. I stroked its buttery shell while tracing the frets. Yes; the sales price was $1700, but I could easily get at least two thousand off of it. It was an American Fender Deluxe, and a nice one at that. It was still in mint condition by the looks of it. I could maybe even sell it for more, auction it off, with $1750 the starting price. I saw another one; a Gibson with Bigsby. Starting price $4161. I could sell it for five thousand. It was settled; this was my next spot to hit.

"You play?" A voice said behind me, breaking my thoughts. I flinched, involuntarily. I turned, ready to face the intruder. It was a blonde boy; his name tag read Hayden. I nodded. "If you're serious enough to be drooling over that thing, you'd love Rory." The name he flung at the guitar was like and insult; a slap to the face.

"It's not a thing," I said, not acknowledging, or caring for, the name he threw my way. "It's a beautiful piece of art. Don't knock it." Hayden raised his hands defensively.

"I'm not knocking it," he failed to assure me, "I work here, don't I?" He stuck his arm out in my direction. "Hayden." He introduced himself.

"I can read," I snapped, not taking his hand either. He blushed, withdrawing his hand, realizing that I wasn't about to reach for his hand.

"I was just thinking," he mumbled, "'cuz I've never seen you around her and all if-" I cut him off.

"You're going to have to speak up Hayden," I said, impatiently. His ears burned red.

"Y'know what? Never mind." He muttered, starting to turn away.

"Wait," I said, softening my voice, allowing him to turn, like I knew he would. People are to easy to play. "What were you saying?" I said, inching myself closer to him, lolling my head to the side, letting my hair fall over my shoulder. He smiled at me, his confidence somewhat restored.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go get lunch together sometime," he said.

"No," I said simply, and emotionless. He searched my face for a second.

"Excuse me?" He asked in disbelief.

"You heard me."

"How about a coffee?" he sputtered.

"Bad choice," I said, with a mock sympathetic smirk on my face. "I don't drink coffee."

"We could just go out," he suggested, willing to get something out of me.

"I don't think so," I purred. He wants me even more, I know it. I turned, haphazardly grabbing a package of acoustic strings as I left.

"Nothing?" he called after me. I turned back to him.

"Not on your life." I narrowed my eyes on him. I whipped back around in search of my mother. I found her, still chatting up the poor greeter boy. He looked like he was in pain. "Mom," I interrupted. "I got the strings." As my mother moved away, the boy looked at me gratefully.

As we paid for my item, I peeked at the store hours. Today, it was open until seven. Guess I'll come back at 7:30, I thought to myself with a grin. I looked up and saw Hayden coming up to us. I made a huge deal in swinging my hair from my right shoulder to my left, concealing my face from him. I swung my bag and my hips so that he would be enticed by my movement. Before I got out the entryway, I felt a hand grab my wrist. I instinctively snatched my wrist away from the stranger, before realizing it was Hayden. I narrowed my eyes at him again, and pursed my lips. I made my eyes question him.

"I don't know your name," He panted. I looked at him with a pitying look.

"I know." He looked like I'd slapped him in the face. I smiled and flounced happily away, spying my mother ahead of me, looking at me. Her eyes questioned me. Wondering what was taking me so long.

I just smiled in return.

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