The Love You Hate: A Charge Man Novel (The Charge Men Series Book 1)

by Rachel Robinson

  I nod, trying to pull it together because we’re in front of Ryan, but can’t find it in me to care. Kiss her. Kiss her. Claim her as your own. My brain is warring with my heart. Not her lips, intuition whispers. Bending my head down I place a kiss on the hollow of her neck, on top of her hair instead. It’s not enough. I lose my breath along with the rest of my willpower when she lets out a small cry of relief at the brush of my lips. I want to hear her moan, shout my name, and pant at my ear as I’m thrusting inside of her.

  “Can I get that coffee then? To go,” a man’s voice breaks the spell from behind us. He’s sitting in a chair.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Ryan says, sloppily pouring a cup and rushing it over to him. I let Presley’s feet touch the ground, as I recognize Gray. There’s no mistaking his looming figure or the look of shock on his face. I’m caught. Maybe. If I can convince him this is part of the act, part of my role in guarding my Principal, this might sway in my favor. His sharklike smile says he’s not going to make it easy.

  “Hey man, I’m Nate. Are you new in town?”

  Presley tilts her head, curious. “Yeah, you aren’t from around here, are you?” Her gaze flicks between us and I can tell she’s trying desperately to connect the dots. I have no doubt she’ll have questions for me later. I need to play this cool.

  Ryan asks if he can get him anything else, but Gray objects, instead staring at Presley and me with a sharp, knowing eye. Her hand still lingers on my chest, and the way she orbits around me tells him more than words ever could. Not only is she claiming me, she’s telling him I’ve claimed her. But I haven’t in all ways, and he needs to know that.

  “I’m just passing through,” Gray finally says. “Cute thing you have going on in Gold Hawke, Colorado,” he says, cocking his head. “Are you both from here?” he asks.

  “No, no. Transplants,” I answer. “Do you need help getting back on the freeway? It can be a little confusing getting back down there.”

  “Sure,” he says, standing with his paper cup. “I parked across the street. Mind helping me make some notes on my map? My GPS doesn’t work here.”

  Presley scoffs. “Internet is the worst here.” Well, at least that was one true statement from her.

  “Yes,” I agree, pulling out of her grasp. “I’ll be right back,” I tell her, hoping she doesn’t argue to come with me. Her hawklike gaze is keen, though. She nods, wearing a fake smile and wishes Gray a good trip wherever he’s going.

  I stay a pace ahead of Gray as we cross the deserted dirt road to the parking lot. I spin to face him. “What the fuck is going on here?” he says, eyes wide. “You confused the fuck out of me with last night’s phone conversation, but that display in there was, well, it was nothing like I’ve ever seen before. We’re Charge Men, not stand-in boyfriends. You better spill it or I will.” Honor the Charge. Another code. Gray has to report everything.

  Blowing out a breath, I go with what he’s assumed. “She needed more than a bodyguard, Gray. It looks strange, but I have to pretend to be more. She’s needy and volatile. Well, she’s usually volatile, but she wasn’t while you were here.”

  “She was normal while I was here which makes me think you’re the one doing something wrong if you can’t get a handle on her.”

  “I have a handle,” I protest, anger rising. “This needs a different approach.” I am using careful words so anyone who hears me doesn’t know what I am talking about.

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “She needs the normal approach, but you deviated and now this is the new normal for your new approach. You got yourself into a mess and need to be reassigned.”

  I expected an argument, but I didn’t expect it to escalate to this. “No. I have it under control and I know how she needs to be managed. The only reason she wasn’t trouble for you is because I gave her internet and she was glued to it the entire time. Had it been normal ho-hum days without Wi-Fi, you would have been chasing her all over this town!”

  He narrows his eyes, and I can tell he wants to believe me, but can’t. “How much pretending are you doing? Are you fucking her?”

  “No!” My hands are in fists by my sides and I work to open them. “I can’t. You know that. The moral code is intact.”

  “You looked awful cozy in there. Especially before you knew I was watching. More than cozy, Nate. You looked like you… felt something for her. I’m not sure how that’s possible, though. We both went through the same training.”

  “It’s easy to pretend to feel something for a Principal when the protection of their life is your only goal in life. Think about that for a second.”

  He’s mulling my words, hand on the handle of his car, and blows out a frustrated breath. “Whatever you say, man. I’m out of here. I’ll report everything because I have to. Good luck with whatever unprofessional games you’re playing. Doubt you’ll be playing them much longer.” He leaves without saying another word, dust from the lot kicking up in his wake. Presley is watching me through the glass door and thankfully I know she’s too far away to be able to hear what was said. She’ll be able to tell enough by body language this wasn’t a simple conversation about directions between strangers. While I’ve never met Gray before, he’s the furthest thing from a stranger. In fact, he belongs to a faction that is filled with the men most similar to me. I stuff my hands in my pockets and cross back to the bakery after Gray is out of view.

  Ryan is cleaning Gray’s table and Presley is looking at me through the plexiglass at the counter. “Did he understand?” she asks, gaze boring a hole into me.

  “Understand what?” I ask.

  “The directions. You were giving him directions, right? It looked like you were having a heated discussion or something.”

  “I’m going rock climbing,” Ryan announces, checking his watch. “You guys finish the dough and call it a day.” Presley agrees, taking the task so seriously, she cuts our conversation short.

  I tell her I’ll watch the counter and she agrees with a nod. We’re feet apart, but right now when she knows I’m lying about something it feels like oceans. Anger grows as I stew because she’s lying, too. Every single day about a multitude of things, and I don’t hold them against her. A few more regulars come in for their bread and as soon as Presley is done with the dough she hangs her apron up on the hook, grabs the keys off the wall and snatches her purse from a cabinet in the back. I’m drying my hands still when she blows out the front door and holds it open, waiting for me to get out so she can lock it.

  “I have somewhere to be, Nate,” she calls as I fumble with my own apron and hit the main light switch. My jeans are dirty and my black tee is covered in flour fingerprints. “Let’s go.” I wasn’t planning on staying at the bakery, I just came to say hello to Presley, but then Gray was here, and Ryan left and it would be bad form to pop smoke on her while she’s by herself. My suitcase is in the passenger side of my truck, I haven’t even been home.

  “I start at Spankies today. You told me not to work there until you got back, and here you are.”

  “Woah, woah, woah. What’s going on here? Why are you acting like this? First you hugged me so hard it felt like you were trying to climb inside me and now you’re treating me like an employee or worse…”

  “Who was that guy?” she asks, putting her hands on her hips.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know.” You know what? While we’re doing this. “How did you get what my cousin needed? How was the damn medicine better than it’s ever been? How did you do that?”

  The prideful air of her face dissipates a little when she realizes I’m using the same argument. “I don’t know,” she parrots back.

  “Guess we both don’t know much, huh?” I retort. “I don’t want to argue with you, Presley. I missed you and God, seeing you has been the highlight of my day.” I exhale deeply. “Tell me you’re not serious about working at Spankies so you don’t turn it into a lowlight.”

  “You know I’m serious about
my bucket list,” Presley deadpans, lips in a thin line. “I missed you. But I know you’re right about being just friends. The secrets between us are too much. I can’t be with a person, even casually who isn’t fully honest.” I open my mouth to object, but she holds up her pointer finger. “And who I can’t be fully honest with either. I’m waving the white flag. Friendship is the most practical and I don’t want feelings to make things messy because I enjoy your company too much. I can’t live in Gold Hawke without having you.”

  She’s finally coming full circle. Giving me the words I’ve been begging for, except now I don’t want them—wish she was still trying to annihilate my self-control. “Okay,” I reply, not meeting her eyes.

  “Okay? That’s all you have to say? I’m giving in. Telling you you’ve been right all along and you’re just going to say okay?”

  “Tell me what you want. Do you want me to argue with you? You saved my cousin’s life. I’m forever in debt to you. Whatever you want, you got it. Yes, okay is what I meant because you’re telling me that’s what you want.”

  She licks her lips as her gaze darts everywhere except my face. “Okay,” she agrees. “I have to be at Spankies in two hours. The concern is me walking back to my car after my shift, correct?”

  I want to scream that my concern is men who aren’t me ogling her naked body, but she just established boundaries and I’d be a fool to overstep. “Correct,” I say.

  “Todd, the owner is only putting me on for a few hours so, if you want to swing by the back parking lot then, I’ll let you know how it went.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Why are you being short with me?”

  I swallow down the resentment. The jealousy. The pang of emotion that clogs my throat when I think of Presley Cohen. “I haven’t been home yet. I’m tired,” I explain. “Good luck tonight. I’m sure it will be… everything you want it to be.” I’m still not perfectly certain what that is. Voyeurism is one thing, but dancing mostly naked at Spankies is not that. “If I don’t see you tonight, know that I’m there making sure you don’t get mugged and I’ll see you in the bakery in the morning.”

  “Just because I said I wanted a friendship doesn’t mean that it has to change between us. I like hanging out all the time.”

  “Well, I can’t do that. That’s not how friendship works. How we were before wasn’t just friendship. Everyone saw it and made assumptions, Presley.” I clear my throat and try to rid myself of the guilt I feel by not giving her what she wants. “See you later.” She reaches into her back seat and hands me a tote bag. It has the laptop and the damn cell phone. I could tell her to keep those things, but that would be too friendly.

  “See you later,” she pouts, getting into her Jeep, and driving off. This is why Charge Men shouldn’t engage in these types of games. I should have left Presley to her own devices, like I did Cecil, but I could have been more watchful. Then again, if I hadn’t gotten close to her, I’d be at Felix’s funeral right now. The world we live in is a fucked-up game of choices. I feel like I’m constantly making bad ones at every turn.

  Driving home, I start to feel sorry for myself. I dump my suitcase into the small washing machine and add some soap in before heading out to the garden. Nothing died, I think, as I walk around and check for buds. Nobody died, I add. Happiness and relief should be coursing through my body instead of this existential dread. I sit down in the dirt next to the plants and put my head between my knees as I adjust the volume on my earpiece. It sounds like Presley is just walking into her house from the ruckus of bangs and slams echoing in my ears. She’s muttering something, but I can’t make out what. This is how it’s supposed to be. Her there, and me here in the shadows, watching over things, protecting. “He’s being such a jerk!” Presley hisses, and I settle in for a bitch fest. I’ve gotten used to hearing things I’m not supposed to, this is no different. “Why won’t he just kiss me? What is it about me that he can resist so easily? I’d do anything for him and yet he holds me at arm’s length.” My stomach turns and I feel nauseous. All her words in the parking lot were just for show. This is how she really feels, and I’m not sure if what that makes me feel is annoyed that she lied to my face again, or exasperated because we’re in the same spot we were before, except we’re lying even more. “What is wrong with me?” Nothing, I answer in my head. Everything is the matter with me. My job. My morals. My fucked-up code of ethics that don’t make sense unless you’re living them.

  Standing, I traipse up to my house. I pull out her laptop and check the browsing history. All pole dancing shit. I cringe, pace away from the counter, then return. Nothing else in the history like I expected. She would have had to look up addresses or phone numbers or something to get in touch with the people who helped Felix. How is this possible? Unless she’s craftier than I give her credit for. There are a few other places I check and find the caches haven’t been cleared. Swallowing hard, I run through possible scenarios. Gray said she’d been home nearly the entire time I was gone. What if she wasn’t? Is it possible she was able to fake him out? That would involve her knowing who he is, and therefore who I am.

  I head into the guest room and scribble notes, theories, ways in which she could have alluded a Charge Man without him knowing, and end up even more concerned than I was before. It would sure make sense of why she’s upset with me and was going on and on about honesty. If she knows I’m her Charge Man, that would be an unforgivable lie. But then again, is she saying all these things right now because she knows I’m listening and is trying to communicate with me? My mind is a live wire of possibilities and Presley is the detonator. Talk about throwing a wrench into my best-laid plans. She’s still talking to herself, about me, and it’s getting harder to listen to because now I’m reading into every syllable.

  She’s slamming doors, and wondering aloud if she should ever talk to me again, when my phone rings. Felix. I say hello in a rushed panic because that’s the default for him. Logically I know if things were bad, it wouldn’t be his number on the phone, but old habits die hard.

  “Hey man. I wanted to thank you again,” he says.

  I mute Presley to hear him. “No thanks needed,” I say, alternating between being relieved and wondering if I’m missing hearing something important at Presley’s. “I did what anyone would have done for someone they cared about.” It’s true, but if I wasn’t close to Presley there’s no way he’d be breathing right now. So not just anyone could have done what I did—what she did.

  “Still, I also want to thank you for taking care of Willow. She finally started talking again. She said you played with her the whole time. Best cousin status.”

  A lump forms in my throat. “Tell her I miss her and that playing house was the favorite part of my visit.”

  Felix clears his throat in that awkward way he does when he has to tell me something uncomfortable. “I don’t know what’s going on in your life, because I never really do, but almost dying gave me a perspective I didn’t have before.”

  “Don’t go all soft on me, Felix. I love you, too. Man.”

  “That’s it, though. The things that you regret at the end aren’t things. I know that now. They’re people. And I’m not talking about the drunk, one-night stands you never called. I’m talking about the ones that got away. You rarely take advice from anyone, but I now have the unique perspective of almost dying, and I don’t want you to have regrets.” He stays silent for a beat. “Don’t think I’m picking on you, either. I’m calling all my friends and acquaintances and delivering this solid advice after coming back from the light.” I can hear his smile, and it makes me grin. Even if his words and their meaning soak in like acid. “But I do feel like you’re one that got away.”

  Dread settles in my stomach. “Thanks, man. You know things in that area are complicated for me. I didn’t get away, I’m just floating for a bit.” My family doesn’t know exactly what kind of training I went through to become a Charge Man, but they know when I finish
ed the program I was… different—off, in all ways concerning emotion. I think they think it’s an act, or something I can control like a switch. They’d be horrified if they knew the truth of what I went through. “Don’t worry. I’ll always circle back for you.”

  “What about for her?” My eyes widen in shock.

  “Who?”

  Felix sighs. “You know who as well as I do. I may not be a Charge Man, but even I can figure out how my life came to be saved, Nate. I knew just enough to connect the dots.” This is not only against every rule and potentially illegal, it’s downright dangerous for Felix to know this information. “Don’t worry, I’d never speak this out loud to anyone except you.” Another long sigh. “And as much animosity I have toward the… family, I understand the sacrifice someone made to go this far for me. Which I think may have been more for you.” Nearly dying obviously gave him iconic clarity. “Am I close?” I remain quiet—breathing in and out. “I thought so,” Felix whispers. “People, not things,” he says once more. “Visit us soon. Willow misses you.”

  Relieved he doesn’t seem to want to pry anymore, I agree, knowing full well it will be a while before I can leave her again. Well, unless Gray gets me removed which is a real possibility. I wouldn’t even fault them. I’m weak and getting weaker by the second. After I hang up the call, I switch on the audio at Presley’s house to stark silence. Panicked, I check the time. She must have left early for Spankies. As long as I’m somewhere near when she’s heading to her Jeep at the end of the night, she’ll be safe. I shower, change clothes, grab my work computers and phones and get ready to stake out the parking lot.

  I arrive at the run-down strip club as the sun sets, and immediately seek out her Jeep. It’s parked underneath the only streetlight, which is flickering. “Incredibly safe,” I rasp, surveying the tree line surrounding the building, and realize anyone could hide near her vehicle and pop out and snatch her. “Gold Hawke’s finest.” Exhaling, I try not to picture the scene inside. This is Presley’s thing. What did she say? Be a supportive friend? Which is hard when I’m wondering what she’s wearing, and she’s not bugged so I can’t hear what she’s saying or the music that’s playing, or the insane conversations she’s having. That’s normal, I remind myself. This is what it would feel like if she was my girlfriend.