CHAPTER THREE
Presley
Nate thinks he’s hard to read, but I know his type. The kind of man who says things that aren’t true in order to jockey for a better rallying position. I’ve been surrounded by people only out for themselves from the moment I was born. You learn quickly how to decipher bullshit and handle them before you get handled. I doubt Nate has a girlfriend, and I don’t think he has any friends to his name. This should raise red flags given my perilous predicament of hiding in plain sight. The irony is, it’s because I was surrounded by conniving, lying men that I’m in this place to begin with.
Did I know my dad made more money than was probably reasonable? Sure. I was benefiting from it, and it was all I knew. Am I pissed people fault me for my dad’s bad decisions? Hell yes. Especially because it landed me in Gold Hawke, Colorado. A few hours away in Aspen, my life would be something far more promising. There are too many people who hobnobbed with my father in Aspen. It isn’t a good fit. That was what my case manager said when I bucked against being placed in this dusty, dead town. I know the whole purpose is to protect me. I am grateful and terrified at the same time. Terrified that this place and these people will be my life for the rest of my life and scared that the mobs of dangerous people my father swindled will find me, and punish me for deeds I’m not responsible for. I miss my friends. The piece of shit Jeep makes a loud pop as I cut the ignition and Nate smirks as it happens. I miss everything about my old, shiny life. There were never any pops or unpaved roads, only smooth surfaces, and unchecked privilege.
Nate Sullivan could be one of the bad guys. That’s how I’m treating him. Always keep your enemies close. I only agreed to befriend him because of that mantra. When I was in my senior year of boarding school in England, Charity was my best friend. That’s what the entire school thought. She wasn’t, though. Charity Titan was my greatest foe—a worthy opponent in every way. We both knew it too. She won if you compare our current state of affairs, and that is infuriating. Nate is waiting for me to respond to his question verbally, and I want to tell him to go fuck off, but I have to play the long game. The quickest way to find out if he’s dangerous is to spend time with him. To worm my way into his life and charm the fucking pants off him.
I sigh, rubbing the worn leather of the steering wheel. “Sunset it is,” I reply. “Even as beautiful as I’m sure it is, it’s still going to remind me that I’ll wake up in Gold Hawke tomorrow.”
“Only if you’re lucky,” Nate says. He’s cradling his arm. I can tell it’s painful. “If you wake up tomorrow.”
I scoff and open my door. I follow Nate up to the side entrance of his cabin. It reminds me of a hunting cabin or something that should be buried deep in the woods in a child’s animated movie. There’s a raggedy screen door and he jiggles the doorknob oddly with his good hand. “If I’m lucky, Nate Sullivan, I’ll wake up tomorrow and the last year of my life won’t have happened.”
He pushes open the door. “Please, tell me more.” I walk in and it’s bare bones. There’s the minimum amount of everything. As I watch Nate’s broad back, a familiarity washes over me. I remember the last time I was at a man’s apartment, albeit way nicer than this. It was our tenth date. He wanted something I couldn't give him. My heart. I'd lost it myself so long ago I'm not sure what beats in my chest belongs to anyone anymore. Once someone decimates love, I don't think it comes back. If it does, surely it doesn't feel the same way. He was the second man who lied to me. He didn't necessarily mean to lie to me, but it hurts all the same. That's why I kept Charity so close. Grant Barringer dated us both at the same time. When I found out, instead of getting angry and blacklisting her, I wormed my way into her inner circle. At first, it was to find out what she had I didn't. When I realized we were eerily similar, being close to her made the most sense. Grant was a playboy and knowing it didn't stop me from falling in love with him. He had this thing he did with his smile and his eyes at the same time. He'd look at me, really look at me, and my insides would quiver. There was a bit of sexual attraction, rather, there was so much that I couldn't keep my hands off him when we were alone. Now sexual attraction is something I distrust because I know it can cloud my mind. It deceives.
Nate paces into his kitchen and I follow behind, wary of every breath I take. The doctor in town knows we're together as does Jake. If anything happens to me, Nate will be the first suspect. Keep him close, Presley. The reminder sends a rack of chills up my spine. My stomach growls loudly. I lay a hand on it to make it stop. Dumb, I know, but it's embarrassing.
He closes a laptop sitting on his kitchen table and slides it into a creaky drawer in the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“Nice place you got here,” I ignore his question and my obvious answer. “So much nicer than my trailer. How did you get this place again?”
“Family place.” Nate rifles through his refrigerator. It's the old-fashioned kind with the large, metallic handle, avocado color, and bulbous angles. Leave it to Beaver style. “I have eggs, some yogurt, and orange chicken leftovers from two nights ago. I'm sure it's still good.”
I must look horrified because Nate laughs when he turns to look at me. “How about bread? Don't bachelor pads always have some form of moldy bread?” I hold a finger in the air. “Where did the orange chicken come from? Did you leave Gold Hawke for a restaurant?” The general store has a premade section that makes me nervous. Sort of like buying sushi at the counter in a grocery store deli used to make me nervous.
Nate opens a cabinet and takes out a loaf of bread that looks unopened. “It's not moldy, but I can toast you some if you'd like?”
“I'll refrain from making a joke about that,” I say, walking over to the back window that has a stunning view of the Rocky Mountains. “And yes please, I forgot to eat today. Too busy trying not to mess up at... everything. With you coming to take over something I just got at the bakery, I mean.” Shit, a little realness slips out.
“I won't be in your way. I won't even talk to you if you ask it. I've had silent coworkers before. It's not a big deal. I'll stay in my lane and you stay in yours.” I watch as he places two slices of bread in the toaster oven and sets the butter dish next to a plate.
“You do seem to know your way around a kitchen. You can toast bread! I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you and I worked together.” I pause, because he’s looking at me, and for the first time it feels like he’s seeing me. Not in the way a stranger on the street looks at a woman he barely knows. Or even the way a man looks at a semi-stranger he saved from junkyard dogs. Nate is more than meets the eye. With one look, I’m sure of it. “My toast is finished.”
He clears his throat and turns to the toaster. He butters the bread as I tuck into the small table with three chairs. There’s no way four was a possibility in this town. I couldn’t find matching bedroom furniture if my life depended on it. Odd chairs on a dining set seems Gold Hawke chic.
“Tell me something, do you really have a girlfriend?” He sets the plate in front of me and my stomach flips. I haven’t been taken care of by someone in a long time. At least, not by someone who isn’t a waiter.
“I don’t see how that matters much.” Nate sits in the chair opposite me.
“I chew thoughtfully. “Where did you come from, Nate? The truth.” Swallowing, I watch his face. It seems he’s deep in thought, or more likely, trying to concoct his lie.
“I’m a glutton for punishment, or perhaps you seem like a person who needs saving.” There’s truth in his words, and the honesty makes me conceal a shiver. “I did have a girlfriend,” he says, looking away. “Or, I do, but we’re on a break right now. It doesn’t make a difference. You’re merely a coworker who seems to be adrift. We seem to be in the same spot in life right now.” It’s hard to get to know someone this closed off.
Nate turns back to study my face. “I’m not adrift, “ I say, clearing my throat. “I take offense to that. But I am trying to reinvent myself.” Glancing around
the wooden walls and ceiling, I try to imagine what my life would look like if Gold Hawke was the only place I’ve ever known. “This town is different from where I came from. So, in that sense, I guess you could call me a little adrift.” I finish the toast with one huge bite and lean back, folding my arms as I chew. “Why are you off with your girlfriend?”
He offers a devil may care smirk and his eyes darken three shades. The way he cradles his arm makes me wince in guilt. I take the plateful of crumbs to the sink and rinse it off. Doing mundane chores like dishes is one of the more annoying tasks normal people have to contend with. No maids. No chefs. No staff to make sure life runs smoothly. “No dishwasher,” I remark.
“No dishwasher,” he snarks back. “Leave it there, it’s fine.” I wash the damn plate and put it in the drying rack. The idea of him cleaning my plate with his gimp arm produces even more guilt.
“Do you want to see the deck,” he offers, ignoring my question about his girlfriend.
“That’s why I’m here instead of drinking watered-down cocktails at the casino,” I say. “I do have another question though.” Then for effect, I say his name. “Nate.”
He turns from the back door and raises one brow. “How did I move in front of the dogs so quickly?” Another smirk. “It’s not what you think, Presley. My skin doesn’t glitter in the sun.”
“Oh, my god, did you just say a Twilight joke out loud?” I can’t help but smile. This burly, roguish man has watched Twilight. “Though I think my question might be in that same realm.”
“What is it?” he asks.
I meet his eyes so I can test them for lies. “Are you here to kill me?” I lock eyes with his. I want to see exactly what he is thinking before he has a chance to think.
My question takes him aback.
“Is that a joke?”
“No. I have enemies.” My tone is dead serious. “I’d be a fool if I took every person I met on the street at face value.”
“Do I look like I want to kill you? And if I did, wouldn’t it make more sense to let the dogs attack you?” He shakes his head, but realizes he didn’t answer my question directly. “No. I do not want to kill you. Now I realize you might be crazier than I first thought, though. Why would people want to kill you? Or did you mean that figuratively?”
I hold up one finger, as I follow him out onto the deck. The view is breathtaking. “You could be luring me into a false sense of security. The dog attack wouldn’t have killed me. You’re saving it up to make sure the kill is done right. You could be working the slow game.” I lean against the railing that looks to be new. “I didn’t mean it figuratively. I do have enemies and a past that isn’t super rosy. I might have been a little dramatic. Causing great bodily harm might suffice? They probably don’t want to kill me.” Though, some do, for sure.
“Sounds complicated,” Nate says, sinking down into one of the patio chairs.
“Like your relationship sounds complicated? Kind of how you seem to be good at a bunch of weird things type of complicated?”
closes his eyes, and I hate that I notice how the sunset is stretching across his face highlighting an amazing bone structure and skin tone that any person would envy. Clenching my teeth, I turn away. “Keeping my life as simple as possible is one of my life’s mottos.”
“What are your other life mottos?” I ask.
Nate cracks one eye. “Never underestimate anyone.”
I toss my head back and forth. “That one is everyone’s life motto. What’s another one? A good one?” Killing me isn’t on his agenda today. I’m certain of it by the casual way he’s relaxing, and showing me his neck if you will.
“I don’t really have any other life mottos. You seem like someone who has plenty. What do you need mine for?” He closes his eye, and a few seconds later the orange glow of the sunsets dips away from his cheek. “My new one will be to stay the fuck away from junkyards.”
I wince even though he can’t see me. “Do you have anything for the pain? I’m sorry.”
“Not sorry enough to stay away from junkyards and adopt my motto though?”
Smirking, I say, “Do you have something against Jake? Before today and the attack I mean.”
“Guess not,” Nate replies. “Nice enough boy with big tough dogs to do his job for him.” It’s crazy how cold it gets in Colorado as soon as the sun sets. I’m used to L.A. sweater weather at night, but it’s downright frigid here when the sun vanishes behind the mountains. “If you won’t adopt that motto, you should adopt the other one. About not underestimating anyone when it comes to Jake. He may be your most attractive option but he could also be a bad person.”
“And you care why?”
Nate shrugs. “We’re friends now, right?”
“Coworkers. Acquaintances. I’m still not sure you won’t off me when I’m not looking.”
He laughs, and try as I might, the draw to see his smile wins out and I glance at him again. “I wouldn’t call us friends. Even if you did take teeth for me. I need to make sure we stay on the up-and-up.”
Nate stands and strides to stand next to me on the expansive deck. “Whatever you say,” he says, sighing. He leans on the railing with his good arm. He’s distracted by pinging in his pocket. He checks his watch and then slides the phone out, slanting it so I can’t see the screen. I wouldn’t expect him to tell me anything about his text or who it is, but it’s weird how he makes an effort to keep my eyes off it.
“Important bakery business,” I joke, sliding away from him to give him more privacy. Also, because there’s a patch of grass that reminds me of my bucket list.
Nate approaches after he sends the text. “Just a friend checking in. We do live in the middle of nowhere.”
I point. “That grass over there. Think it would make a good garden?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Garden? Why would I want to plant a garden?”
Shaking my head, I reply, “Not now. I don’t have any space at my house. It butts up to my neighbor’s trailer and my backyard is nothing but forest.” Pointing again, I say, “This would be the perfect garden area with its southern exposure.”
“Are you claiming my yard as your garden? After you called me a coworker instead of a friend?”
“If you let me plant a garden here, I’ll know you don’t want to kill me.”
Nate grimaces. “You’re really not mincing words. Do you know the first thing about gardening?”
I shake my head. “Nope. That’s the point of my redo bucket list. I’m going to do things I’ve never considered before. This grass right here just gave the inspiration to finally make my list a reality.”
“Redo bucket list? What’s on this list?”
I fold my arms across my chest as I recall my claustrophobic life before Gold Hawke. Sure, I had everything and more money than I could spend in seventeen lifetimes, but I was also under a microscope at the same time. Normal, ordinary things are an oddity for me now. “A lot of things. Mostly things I’ve always wanted to do or try and couldn’t because it wasn’t feasible, or I just didn’t have time.”
“Well, it seems we both have nothing but time now. And this garden, you don’t want help? You just want to use my yard?”
I roll my eyes. “Please tell me you’re not some master gardener or something. I’ll throw myself off a cliff if you do that well, too.” I meet his eyes, find him smiling. “Go ahead and list all of the things that you’re good at. The things you excel in so if our coworker-ship continues on, I’m not shocked and angry about your ability to do almost everything.”
Nate licks his lips. “You have it right. Almost everything. That’s a safe assumption.”
“How? The military? That’s why you know how to do… things?”
“Yeah, the military. But I’ve always been interested in a variety of different things. My grandma had a garden when I was a child and I remember helping her weed and water, but I actually don’t have a well of knowledge about ga
rdening. That research is on you.”
“What about roller skating?” I ask.
He chuckles, and winces. “You’re kidding. You want to roller skate?”
“Didn’t you hear me? I have things I need to do. I want to learn to roller skate and then join a roller derby team.” I pause. “I’m sure there isn’t one anywhere close to Gold Hawke, but maybe I could start one.” My stomach flips again at the reminder that I’m trapped here without an escape. The sooner I get used to this place the sooner I’ll be able to live a normal life. Or whatever the hell my new normal resembles.
“That it? A garden and roller derby? You’re gonna get your ass handed to you, you know? Those chicks mean business.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I hand them their ass. There’s only one way to find out. You’re stuck here too, it sounds like. Isn’t there anything you’d like to do? Something you’ve never done? Something that would make your life brighter?”
Nate seems to contemplate my question, running his hand over the railing back and forth. “I’m sure there’s something. Nothing comes to mind at the moment. I’ll think on it tonight and get back to you tomorrow… at work. Coworker.”
Turning I lean against the railing, and study Nate’s profile. When I first saw him at the bakery, he looked all hard lines and bad attitude, but in a new surrounding he doesn’t look so intimidating at all. Nate might not want to kill me, and if he doesn’t want to kill me, he could be a better option than Jake. I shake off the notion. It’s crazy talk. I don’t need a man, I’m just lonely. A friend is what I need and Nate is offering friendship. “So, that’s it? You’re kicking me out? No stiff drink to go with the sunset?”
The Love You Hate: A Charge Man Novel (The Charge Men Series Book 1) Page 4