Page 39 of The Lies You Love
After Griffin gave me scraps of information, I went down a rabbit hole on the internet during a lull at work, sleuthing to connect the dots. I could have just asked him, but where’s the fun in that? If we don’t get to put on our detective hats and piece together clues, what’s the point? Admittedly, there is very little information about Charge Men and where they come from, but there are news articles online from when a new man took over the program. While it seems like it is attached to the military—most of the Charge Men are former soldiers or sailors, it also seems to be privately funded so they don’t have to abide by anyone else’s protocols or rules. The Wild West of bodyguards, you could say. They’re highly trained that much I gathered. The process of becoming a Charge Man is secretive and the people they are tasked with guarding are of high value. The people who have a price on their heads after the economic nosedive.
“Griffin told you?”
“No, I mean, not directly. It was mostly things that you told me that led me to the conclusion, combined with the whole alpha personality and oversized muscles. It made the most sense when I started researching. Plus, what kind of job tempo does one month off and one month on? That’s not normal or average by any stretch of the imagination.” I finish my drink and set the glass back down on the cart.
Beck nods, looking thoughtful as he casually sips his bourbon. “I don’t know how I feel about you knowing that.” He looks at me. “Not because I don’t want you to know, because it could get you in trouble. What you don’t know can’t kill you.”
I balk. “And what I do know can kill me?”
He looks appalled. “No. No. I didn’t mean it that way. Well, technically, I guess I did, but in general terms, it’s always safer to be in the dark.”
“Women tend to not want to be in the dark,” I say, propping one hand on my hip. “Like, we try to avoid that at all costs, actually.”
He exhales, and I don’t miss how his abs flex as he does. “My world is a bit different than ‘woman world,’ Auden. I want to be open and honest with you, but that comes with risks. I already told you I can’t be fully honest about certain areas of my life.”
This, I can live with. I can. It’s not me even trying to convince myself of it. I’m certain.
“I understand.”
Walking slowly toward him, I let it be clear I’m ready for our naked truths to end. I let my hips sway, and I watch his gaze linger on my body. I take the glass from his hand and go up on my tiptoes to press my lips against his. I linger, tasting the bourbon, and pressing my skin against his, letting the raw emotion from our honesty trickle into the embrace. I crave all of him. “I think the only risk you’re taking right now is coming all over my ass cheeks.”
Beck slaps my ass, and I get even wetter than I just was. “A risk I’ll gladly take.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Beck
She knows. Why wouldn’t she though? When she laid out everything, it would have been obvious to anyone. I suck at my cover story, but then again, I haven’t needed a cover before. I’ve never wanted a woman to hang around, and this has never been a problem. I spent a ton of time training to be a Charge Man, but there isn’t a lot of follow-up on covers or deception. The training program is easier in a lot of ways—I am allowed to have a life outside of work, but no one tells us how to balance it. How can I make it work? What needs to happen? My hope is that everything falls into place without much planning. The whole ‘if it’s meant to be, it will be’ motto needs to pull through or divine guidance because I’m in over my head, and I’m not sure how to proceed. With caution, my subconscious whispers.
We pitched the tent and set up our campsite leisurely, and now we’re lying on a blanket in a soft thicket of grass. Crickets are chirping, and birds sing in the tallest branches of the evergreens. A stream is behind us. It’s peaceful, save for my mind that’s racing a million miles per hour. I’m taking her home to meet my family, the innermost sanctum of my private world. I wouldn’t say I regretted inviting her, but I would say it’s a huge step, one I never imagined I’d take after such a short amount of time. It’s been a week and a half, and her lips taste different. The sex is deliciously volatile in the best way. It makes me want to commit felonies to keep it. A bird passes overhead, and I turn to face Auden. Her profile is soft, the bow of her lip pronounced, and the tiniest curve of her nose at the tip seems like perfection. She is perfect. Turning to face me, she smiles. “She did it.”
“Who did what?”
“Betty broke up with her sidepiece. The Aussie bloke. You were right, she did want my sage advice, and who would have thought I’d be the one to bring her to her senses. I told her to break up with him. Block his number and erase everything and anything that makes her think of him.” Auden sighs, and I hold my breath at the mention of Hudson.
We looked into him and found zilch in his history, it’s almost like he didn’t exist until now, which Grey and I know isn’t true, but now I have Auden meddling with the Rifts on her off time. My stomach sours.
“How did he take it?” I regret the question as soon as it leaves my mouth.
She scrunches up her perfect nose. “Why does that matter? What matters is how her husband takes the news when she tells him.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, yeah, of course. So, she’s going to tell him? Some may argue the best thing to do if you don’t plan on cheating again is to live with the secret. Keep it buried inside so the ugly thing only affects you instead of the person you love.”
Auden is thoughtful. “That’s an interesting point of view.” There’s a long silence as she looks back to the sky. “Have you ever cheated on a woman?” Ah, there it is. Applying it to herself and how it could potentially affect our relationship. “Do you have something buried like that? Something that eats at you with guilt?”
“Yes, but it’s not cheating,” I admit, recalling the memory I never willfully let rise to the surface.
“There was an audit today. Maisey was there auditing!” Mom shrieks on the other end of the line.
“What are you talking about? I had lunch with Maisey forty-five minutes ago. She’s stressed out because some exec was being sketchy and rude this morning.”
“Beckett, turn on the news,” she rushes out in a hushed whisper. “Turn on the news,” she repeats, voice cracking.
Heart pounding, I push away my textbook and grab the remote. I open the guide, click on the first local news channel listed, and watch my worst nightmare come alive. There was a robbery at the bank where Maisey was working today. The place where we ate lunch was right around the corner. There was a break in between my classes and she called me up. I didn’t question why she was on this side of town, she’s always in different locations for work. The news anchor announces that the suspect got away and there were multiple casualties.
Mom breathes heavily on the line. “She’s not answering, Beck. Dad is calling her over and over.”
“Where is Stefan?” I ask, barely recognizing my voice. As I stare at the screen, desperately trying to find my sister in the mix of bodies streaming in and out of the shattered glass windows, a weight settles in my chest. Somehow, I know that nothing will be the same after this moment.
