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

by Rachel Robinson

  “You didn’t tell anyone?” Mya asks, squatting down to draw a small weapon from under her pant, in her boot. A stun gun. Stepping back, I silently thank Nate for making me take off the shoes because mama is about to book it out of here.

  I shake my head. “No. What do you want from me? I didn’t do it whatever it is.” Finally, I recall where I remember her from. “The concert. That’s where I’ve seen you before.”

  “Wow, that took long enough.”

  I step back again. “You were with a different man.”

  “He was my partner, not my significant other,” she drawls, aiming the gun at me. “This is what is going to happen.” She furrows her brows, like she’s in pain. “You’re going to follow me to my car and you’re going to get in and we’re going to the warehouse down by the county line. Sullivan is going to chase you out there because he’s in love with you, and Tray will finally get his revenge.”

  “I don’t understand.” A multitude of things she said doesn’t process. Mostly that Nate is in love with me. That is overwhelming and wanted, but this is not the ideal time to be presented with this information.

  “Being filthy rich can’t buy you brains I guess.”

  I shake my head. “Do I look filthy rich to you?” Play your part, Presley. Never admit anything.

  “I know who you really are. Stop talking and start walking.”

  “If I don’t?”

  Her smile is calculating. “It will just make it harder on him.”

  There aren’t cameras in the dressing room. They won’t know to come help me. The entire security team is either in the hallway outside or on the other dancers. I tug on the bottom of Nate’s shirt. “I need to get dressed.”

  “If you want to know the truth about Nate Sullivan, about who he really is, you will come with me right now.” There’s a glint of truth in her eye, and after what just happened, I know Nate will open up to me eventually. I don’t need to be coerced to get information.

  I follow her anyway, out of fear, grabbing a pair of sweatpants laying on the floor, and hopping into them. I pull them on and follow her quietly out the back door. It’s dead silent outside save for crickets chirping and the faint squeal of the brakes of a car somewhere on the freeway. The best night of my life took a nosedive into the shitter so quickly I feel like someone smacked me. My car is locked, so making a run isn’t an option, but I could make it to the woods. I know I’m faster than her, I just don’t know if I’m quicker than the stun gun. My stomach flips when she opens the door to her stupid beige car and I get inside. Logically, I know this is dumb—the very last thing you’re supposed to do in this situation.

  “I’m here. I’m posing as your bait, now spill it, Mya,” I say, tucking my arms into the sleeves of Nate’s shirt. It smells like him. It both makes me want to cry and makes me horny at the same time. An odd sensation given my current circumstance.

  “Did you hear what you just said? Why would you be bait? Why is he always around? Have you ever stopped to wonder why he’s always trying to protect you?”

  I assumed it’s because he had some semblance of feelings for me, but there has always been a niggling feeling that it was… more. In some way. “He’s overcautious. Former military is always that way,” I say, the lump in my stomach rising up to my throat.

  “He’s a Charge Man, Presley. It’s his fucking job to keep you safe. Good job he’s doing right now, though,” Mya says, sneering at me in the rearview. “That was far easier than I thought it would be. Literally like taking candy from a baby.” So, it’s not because he’s in love with me. I close my eyes.

  I let her words sink in as I recall something about a bodyguard or something similar in the stack of paperwork that was granted to me. I didn’t go through all of it with a fine-tooth comb, because I was in a rush, and honestly, I didn’t have another option other than to go undercover. Gold Hawke and this life was the alternative to dying. Oh, God. Mya wants to kill me. She’s who I need protecting from. “I had no idea what my father was doing,” I rush out. “I’m not him! Please!”

  “This has nothing to do with you,” Mya hisses. “You’re stereotypically vain to think so.”

  My breathing comes quickly as I try to remember the paperwork. Not everyone would be assigned a Charge Man—only high priority people. In opposition of what Mya accused me of, I didn’t think I was important enough to need security detail and if this is true, why the hell didn’t he just tell me? It wouldn’t have changed anything. “He’s been listening to you and writing reports about you every single day. He’s a fucking robot, incapable of emotions. The man has been programmed to guard.” The first day I met Nate flicks to the forefront of my mind, and then every moment I was suspicious after that. My breathing accelerates the same time Mya does. “Already on my tail,” she muses, eyes narrowing in the mirror.

  Turning, I see the headlights of a truck and I wish I didn’t. It means what she’s saying is the truth. I’m not stupid, though. Not this blind. After what I went through to get the medication to his cousin, I feel played. Something has to have been real. The way he looks at me—touches me reverently. Those aren’t mindless things from a man controlled by other powers. I feel dizzy as I lay a hand on my head, and her driving doesn’t help. The one good thing about Gold Hawke right now is that it’s not big. She turns into a warehouse parking lot. I think it used to be an ancient coal mine or something of that nature, but now it’s abandoned. When I’ve driven by in the past, I’ve noticed teenagers out here spray painting and smoking weed. It’s silent as she pulls into a bay and unlocks my door. It’s not a vehicle I’m familiar with that pulls in behind Mya’s car, blocking her in. It’s a truck, but damn if it’s not Rayleen and her shotgun that get out.

  She fires off a shot in the air and finally I’m in familiar territory. I make a run for it, toward the crazy bat with the stronger weapon. Mya doesn’t have the stun gun. “What the hell are you doing to her?” Rayleen squeals as I scramble to the passenger-side door. It creaks when I open it. Tray steps from the shadows, as promised.

  “If you knew how bad he was you would help us,” he says. “Nate is just as evil as your father is. Just in a different way.” I’d argue with that after the hoops I jumped through to get medication a man would die without because my father’s evil had no moral code. I shudder when I think about how many other lives were lost, or are being lost this very second, because I’m unable to help them all.

  Tears spring to my eyes. “How can you say that?”

  “You only see him as a good guy because the beast was trained out of him.”

  I swallow hard. “How do you know that?”

  Tray lets out a strangled cry. “He was supposed to protect Cecil, my brother,” he says, coming toward me. “Mya helped me infiltrate this awful place when I found out Sullivan was here. He needs to pay for his death.”

  Nate’s voice cuts through Tray’s sobs. “Shut the fuck up!” I startle and jump into Rayleen’s truck, but keep the door open. “Cecil wasn’t strong enough for his new reality. I couldn’t stop him.” Nate is firm, and he’s obviously heard every word spoken thus far. Turning, I see his truck parked on the road. “How did you find me?” He paces toward Tray and I’m reminded of a predator, a creature hunting. I see the man Mya was talking about. “How did you find me?” This isn’t the man who seemed to have reached into my heart and shook hands with my soul, the man before me is a monster.

  “They should have let me live with him. I could have stopped him from committing suicide. I could have talked to him. You didn’t even talk to him. Not once. Not like you do with your Principal now.” Tray waves in my direction. “If you would have befriended him, if you would have given him something to live for, I’d have my only family member right now. Instead, your establishment took away everything. Everything stripped. He couldn’t call his own brother. I didn’t know where he lived. As if we didn’t have enough taken away, you couldn’t have left us with each other? How
cruel can you be?”

  “I don’t make the decisions. You think I control any of that? I’m literally a pawn.” For the first time it registers I’m listening, that I know his secret, and he risks a glance over his shoulder. There’s an unrecognizable emotion there, but there is also desperation, but I don’t know how to quantify it. The next second he’s turned back to Tray.

  “No, of course not, but you control how you guard, and it’s quite obvious you protect beautiful, whore bag brunette women better than you do men who bring little to the table.” Tray physically shivers, and his reaction sends chills down my spine. “I chose not to go into protection and I’m doing fine without anyone backing me. He was too weak to make that choice after our father’s incarceration. He took the protection from the get-go. A lot of good it did him. I blame you. You had the ability to change everything. You did nothing.”

  “My decision on how to protect is different with each circumstance. It’s not cut and dry. Ce-ce-cecil,” Nate trips over his name, “wouldn’t have embraced a friend in his mental state. He didn’t even try to adjust. You didn’t see him every day like I did. I made the decision I felt was best for the circumstance and it was… the best I could do at the time. That’s what happens sometimes and there’s nothing we could have done differently. There’s nothing you could have done differently. Cecil would have ordered the chemical and taken his life, no matter what I did.” Nate’s affected by this, I can tell, and my heart is shattering. The pain is this widespread and it’s enveloping me because I know exactly who Cecil is now after hearing his story. He is the youngest sibling of Caylee, my own friend who was murdered for the crimes of her father. I close my eyes and let myself spiral into the past—something I never allow myself do. Fear replaced the past, and now all of it is staring me straight in the face. Everything happened so quickly after sentencing. I never fully processed anything. There wasn’t a funeral for Caylee because they couldn’t promise the press wouldn’t leak it, and we’d be sitting ducks, all in one place, waiting for slaughter. “I’m sorry,” Nate cuts in. “It doesn’t mean anything to you I’m sure, but I think about Cecil every day and I try to be a better Charge Man because of what happened to him.”

  “They should have fired you. Look!” Tray points to me. “She’s in danger. You can’t even keep the ones you are fucking safe.” I wince. For them to assume I’m with Nate in that capacity isn’t a far stretch, but it forces vomit right there on the spot. Because of all the lies Nate was telling this might have been the only one I didn’t see coming. Puke spills on the cement and I wipe my mouth. Rayleen asks if I’m okay and I throw up my palm in her direction and she blessedly leaves me alone. I. Am. His. Job. More vomit stings my throat on the way up as my eyes begin to water. “You should have done more for my brother,” Tray cries out. Nate doesn’t respond, but I’m only looking at Tray and watching Mya for movement.

  I side with Tray. The pain reflecting in his eyes is honest and true. What he’s saying, he believes and who the hell knows if he’s right or wrong because no one can tell you how bad something hurts. Nothing can define trauma except the heart in which the damage has taken place. The place it hurts is sacred. My heart thuds in protest. After pushing Caylee’s death aside to worry about my own life, now, it almost seems worse. By avoiding it, I’ve merely let the loss breed in my absence. Facing the grief, paired with Nate’s betrayal seems unbearable. Tray was at boarding school in England during the drama and trauma of the financial scandal trials, and for many years before. He wasn’t as easily distinguishable as the rest of us. Tray wasn’t forced to go into hiding like Cecil. Taking a step away from my puke and toward Nate’s back, I decide to approach them. Rayleen stumbles from the driver’s side, though, firing another random round into the air. Her MO, everyone startles—Mya screams, ducking down on the ground, ears covered.

  “Oops, sorry,” she exclaims, waving an arm in the air, but gaze locked on me. “You see Frank at the titty bar tonight?” Her nonchalance with the weapon is the most jarring thing. My heart is hammering.

  I shake my head. “No,” I lie. “Earlier at the bakery, he was there looking for you.”

  “I’m really sorry about the other night. Didn’t mean to scare ya.’” Rayleen smacks her gums together. No dentures in tonight. “It’s so hard to know who to trust around here.”

  “You can say that again.” Blinking away tears, I know this is going to take a long time for me to come to terms with. As if my life isn’t messed up enough as it is. “If you get me out of here right now, I won’t mention it ever again,” I clarify. “Though you should probably get some lessons with the shotgun. Maybe we can go together.” I’m on the hunt for a new friend, and it seems I might be taking care of myself for real this time.

  “Get on in, baby. We’ll get you out of here,” Rayleen drawls. I’m watching the trio in front of me cautiously, but Mya is so rattled she’s gotten into the car even though she can’t go anywhere. Nate approaches Tray and they’re talking low, so I can no longer hear the words. There’s no mistaking the hysterical tone of their conversation though. The second Rayleen starts up the truck, Nate spins, gaze searching for me. I cast my eyes down, and slam the truck door as she backs out into the night, and hurries to drop me off at home.

  Rayleen apologizes again for scaring me when she thought I was cheating with Frank, but thankfully leaves me quickly. I’m not sure where the escape clause is. Leaving Gold Hawke isn’t an option, but now that my cover is blown, I’m not sure staying is either. There has to be some sort of protocol, but I’m forced to sit here and wait. Ironically, I feel exposed. Nate Sullivan was a safety net. I didn’t realize just how professional and high quality of a safety net he was until tonight. After a shower and redressing, I meander through my trailer. I get out the rolling suitcase from my closet I never thought I’d use again. Stuffing it full takes less than five minutes because I don’t have much to my name. I get my toiletry bag packed, and put the stuff from my old life I’ve hidden away in another larger tote bag, and wait. Surely, the authorities will come for me. Something like this is a big deal in their eyes. They preached up and down about safety and anonymity. To have my cover blown so fully and epically is the opposite of the things I was promised. My stomach flips at the thought of seeing people. My friends. My mother. The life I used to know. Technically it won’t be the same life, but if I could taste it for just a day, I might be able to forget what happened tonight. Fat chance when I swung from the highest high—Nate’s lips against mine, his hands touching my body like it’s the most precious item in the world, to this moment, when I’ve never felt so alone.

  Opening the blinds with trembling fingers, the tears come in a flood. I’m not even looking at anything except a dark, empty road, but shock has been replaced by despair, and nothing can fix it. Reaching between my sofa cushions I find the gun—cold and heavy in my hands. Blinking away tears, I stare at the object for several moments, contemplating a million different things before tucking it into the back of my pants. It doesn’t take long before someone pulls into the parking spot where my Jeep should be. It also doesn’t take long for me to know exactly who it is.

  Nate jogs from the driver’s side of his truck and raps on my door so hard it shakes the trailer. I don’t open the door, no, that would make his life too easy. If he’s so worried, he can stay on the clock and work. Except it’s not work at all in my shitty ass home. He kicks the door once and it flies, creaking, off the hinges. “Why didn’t you answer?” Nate roars, stepping through the threshold.

  That’s the first thing he says, like it’s the most egregious thing that’s happened tonight. “Probably for the same reason you didn’t tell me the truth about anything. I just didn’t care enough.” I hate that he’s witnessing me in this state. I can’t stop sobbing. The flood gate has broken and this is who I’ll be until I fix myself. Until I bury the pain and emotion and pretend like everything is fine.

  He stabs a finger at me. “I’ve told you more
truths than I’ve ever told anyone, Presley. That’s not fair.”

  I wince. “Fair is never quite fair with matters of the heart,” I reply. “You know as well as I do that I’m legally bound to secrecy. Telling you was never an option like it was for you. You could have told me that basically you’re my employee just as you could have told Cecil you were there for him. You do see how detrimental keeping that secret it is, right?” My heart pounds as I look at him. Nate is devastatingly handsome, and staring at me with a mix of shock and horror he looks even more attractive. I didn’t know it was possible for rage and lust to coexist.

  Nate looms in the center of the room, taking in my suitcase and bag. “It was a decision I made because I thought it would keep you safer. Turns out you’re pretty fantastic at getting yourself into trouble any chance you can. Cecil… Cecil was a mistake, and I should have intervened in a different way, but they didn’t fire me because I wasn’t responsible. They had access to all of the same information that I did. What doesn’t anyone understand about that?”

  “Fine. If that was a mistake, what do you call this? Between us?” I gesture between our bodies with a flailing arm. “What is it?”

  His breathing speeds and the feral look in his eye makes my stomach flip. He crosses to where I’m standing and pins my wrists on either side of my head against the wall. The move is so forceful, I lose my breath and my train of thought. Nate licks his lips as his gaze flicks between my eyes and my mouth. His breaths crawl across my cheeks and my whole body breaks out in shivers. “It’s also a mistake,” Nate says, jaw clenched. “The biggest mistake of my life.” I swallow hard—held completely captivated by the intensity of his stare. He shakes his head once, “The catch is that I don’t care. I don’t care if it’s a mistake. I can’t help myself.” He leans forward, trailing his lips against mine—testing, asking permission. Closing my eyes, I stay as still as possible. It would be criminal to tell him how much I want him despite everything else. Also, I don’t have the power to tell him no. He growls, “I broke every rule for you but one. The one that would level me.” He leans in and presses his lips firmly against mine, tilting my chin up with the strength of his lips. Opening for him is easy. My mouth. My heart. All of his transgressions are forgotten in this moment. Part of my brain is arguing for him. He did everything to protect me. Even if he is assigned to keep me safe, this kiss doesn’t lie. He feels something for me.