Page 44 of The Love You Hate
“I think so,” I say, panting.
“Let’s finish this in my truck.”
I’m still catching my breath and seeing stars, but the excitement is enough to force me to my feet. “The bouncer,” I say, choking on my words because I’m high on adrenaline and I want Nate so badly. “I have to tell him I’m leaving.” Nate takes off his T-shirt and forces it over my head. It’s the first time I’ve seen the tattoo on his upper ribcage. It’s a black sword piercing a capital C. I’d ask him what it means except time is definitely of the essence. I wonder if it’s for his cousin. Or something relating to an ex. There’s so much I don’t know about him, and yet, there’s a warm familiarity anytime I’m with him.
Nate picks up my shoes. “I’ll tell him myself.”
I widen my eyes. “Okay.”
We don’t have to go far, security, all of them, are waiting outside the room we’re in. Including Todd. He’s grinning from ear to ear. “Well done,” he says. “I’d usually fire a dancer for bringing her boyfriend in, but because he paid, we can make an exception, but I’m taking the whole amount this time.” He clears his throat, eagle eyes trying to categorize Nate. Good luck, buddy, I think. “He used your real name,” Todd says. “Boyfriend on your first night? Bad form. I should have expected as much.”
“Last night,” Nate growls, holding me protectively around my shoulders. “Do you need to get your stuff?” he asks. I nod and as quickly as humanly possible round to the back to the dressing room and the lockers. Mya is waiting there, directly in front of my locker.
“Emerald.” Her eyes glitter with fury. “You left us hanging there. Poor Tray. He got his hopes up for nothing. He came here tonight especially for you.”
Danger washes over me. This isn’t Rayleen with a shotgun, but it’s premeditated. “What do you mean? How did you know I was going to work here? I didn’t tell anyone.”
“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.
