Sean aka Diesel (Cocker Brothers Book 14)

by Faleena Hopkins

  SEAN AKA DIESEL

  COCKER BROTHERS BOOK 14

  FALEENA HOPKINS

  HOP HOP PRODUCTIONS INC

  CONTENTS

  SEAN & CELIA

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Cocker EXTRAS

  About the Author

  "So after laughing then crying for a good 10 minutes. I have to say this is the best one of all the Cocker books" - SparklyUnicorn

  Sean made his entrance in Sofia’s book.

  I fell in love with him and gave him his own full-length novel. Enjoy!

  It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.

  E. E. CUMMINGS

  PROLOGUE

  Strolling out of Senior Year English as the last bell rings, my head is down to search for the keys to Alan’s motorcycle. I’ll probably ride around the red sandstone mountains for an hour to give him and my mom some extra time alone. He didn’t say that’s what he wanted, but he didn’t have to. He threw these to me when I left for school today with the hopes I’d get the message.

  He’s about to ride his truck across country and won’t be around for two whole weeks. She’ll miss him. Can’t have that.

  Scooping my finger through the ring I flip it in jingling circles, about to enter my high school parking lot. Man, am I looking forward to this ride. One of the perks of Mom’s new relationship. That, and he’s not an abusive dickhead like the last guy.

  But a disturbing conversation catches my attention, slows me down.

  Those are male voices snickering.

  Some guy is arguing with them.

  Wait.

  He’s pleading.

  Drawn by the need to know, I turn on my heel and alter direction. It’s coming from around the other side of the building where our drama class is held. Still can’t see anything, but there’s a distinctive sound when knuckles clash against skin. It jars me to my toes, gets them slamming the pavement in quicker steps. I know that thud, the grunt of pain that follows, oh too well from my mother’s last boyfriend long before Alan came along.

  When I walked out of the shower, down the hall to my room with a towel around my scrawny hips, I heard her gasp. Didn’t know she’d returned for her forgotten phone or I would’ve covered up the bruises on my back and chest with her robe, could’ve deflected why I was wearing it with a joke about missing her or something…anything.

  But that sound she made, the horror in her voice, shot ice down my spine. The truth was out. Couldn’t hide anymore what had been going on, or just how bad it had gotten. Shame followed as she inspected me, even though it wasn’t my fault Carlo got off on hurting people who weren’t big enough to fight back. I was thirteen; two years after my father died and left a hole in our lives.

  She demanded to know, “Why didn’t you tell me what he was doing to you?”

  “He said if I did he would hurt you instead.”

  Mom crumbled, covered her head with her hands, sobbing. I hugged her and she clung to me. She called the police, acted like everything was normal so he didn’t run. They took him away that night.

  We never talked about it again. I hit puberty the following year. Wish it had come sooner. Wish I’d said something to somebody, but I was just a kid. Too small to fight back, too proud and scared to tell anyone I was getting beaten. That was four years ago. I’m six-two now, and I hope I run into Carlo again.

  My hurried strides transform into a sprint as I hear, “Why are you doing this to me?” followed by a snickering, “Because we like it.”

  I know that second voice—he’s in my grade. I shout, “Kyle, leave the kid alone!” before I even see who I’m defending.

  “This freak?” he sneers, backed up by two of his loser friends. “Mind your own business, Sean, we’re busy.” I slow down, take in the scene in seconds.

  Kyle’s got a sophomore cornered. I’ve seen the guy around— a ‘metal-head,’ keeps to himself, part of the drama club because he runs the theater’s lights. I’ve seen him carting equipment around that’s too heavy for him. He’s skinny, heroin-thin, but not a druggie. Going through a growth spurt? Too poor to eat enough? I never gave the reason why he’s an outcast much thought before because who cares?

  Well, I care now.

  “Leave him alone!”

  Kyle sneers, “Or you’ll what?” and his eyes go dead before he turns and kicks the sophomore in the balls with all his strength, rips the boy right up the center.

  I lose my shit. Launch myself at Kyle. Take him to the ground. Asphalt rips his skin as we slide. His friends are stunned I actually did something. Most people wouldn’t. They take off—fucking cowards. But Kyle’s into it. He has a dark soul that never wants to bend. Like a tornado he fights back with punches that land.

  But I’m on top of him.

  Won’t let him get the advantage.

  I thunderclap his head, punching both sides at once.

  His eyelids droop, and he loses consciousness.

  My chest reaches for air, head spinning left to right, searching for the sophomore, see if he’s okay.

  But he’s gone.

  Escaped.

  Around the corner comes the Principal followed by the students who ran to get him.

  “Shit,” I mutter as he reacts to the scene. “This isn’t what it looks like, Mr. Dobbs.”

  CHAPTER 1

  TEN YEARS LATER.

  C ELIA

  I pretended to take a walk, but really I was searching for him.

  I smile, heart beating faster. “Hey…what’re you doing all the way out here?”

  He’s been so tense ever since Luke was sent away to cool off after what happened between him and Sofia Sol. I wish I could make Atlas’s stress go away. It was his fault, in a way. But it also wasn’t. He just told the truth. Shouldn’t have snitched on his brother, no, but he did it for the club. That must have been so hard for him to do, and so brave.

  Atlas glances over his shoulder with a half-hearted, “Oh hey.” Turning around and leaning on the fence in the farthest reaches of our backyard, he drapes muscular arms over it, hands dangling in fists. The plantation we call home is in the distance, a sea of oak trees swimming in Spanish moss between us. Snatching a weed out of the ground I tear it apart during my terrible attempt at casual conversation. “Were you checking the boundaries to see if they’re Sage? I mean…safe.”

  Dark blue eyes flicker at the sore spot I accidentally nicked. Glancing to the ground he says, “She’s never gonna let me off the hook, I just know it.” His sister, and Luke’s, hasn’t been talking to him after what he did, except in biting insults whenever she gets the chance. She idolizes their older brother and wants Luke brought back, now. But it’s not her c
hoice when he’ll return. The elders sent him away and it will be them who decide.

  I offer, “With time she will.”

  “I don’t know,” he mutters. “Not sure I’d forgive me if tables were turned.”

  Dropping the weed, I slide my hands in my jeans pockets. But as he tells me about how he wishes we had a mission to take on, I can’t stop myself from sneaking lingering peeks of his narrow hips, muscular thighs showcased in old blue jeans, how sexy he looks every single damn day of his life. The glimpses of burnished copper skin showing through the rips turn my core into a ball of heat, and it’s just gotten worse ever since I confessed to Sofia Sol my feelings for Atlas. Since I shared that secret, I can’t hide it from myself.

  We’ve trained together all our lives, Atlas and I. Watched each other grow up in this club. These feelings grew even though I didn’t want them to. But he looks after me, naturally protective since I’m what they would consider the weak link in our crew. I hope I showed with the last mission, I’m not that. Sofia changed her mind, believes now I can handle anything thrown at me with the terrible things we see. Unfortunately I have no idea how Atlas feels about me, in any regard. Cipher, romantic, or otherwise. My vision, my gut instinct, is clouded by desire.

  He meets my eyes, jogs his chin up. “How come you’ve forgiven me for what I did?”

  “You’re beating yourself up enough already,” I shrug with a smile. “Why should I hurt you, too?”

  He squats down, jeans tightening, yanks a blade of grass from the ground, and proceeds to absently split it down the middle with his short fingernails. “You’re too nice, you know that?”

  “Understanding maybe, but not nice.”

  He offers a smile born from sheer willpower alone. “Nobody wants to be the nice girl, huh?”

  “Not me,” I smirk, “I just shot a guy, remember?”

  Standing back up, he laughs enough to release tension. “You killed a murderer. That’s about as badass as you can get.” Tossing the blade he initiates our walk back home by heading there and assuming I’ll come along. I glance to the spot where he just stood, where we were alone for a little while. I want to stay out here with him, but how to make that happen without being too obvious? Impossible. Taking solace in what little time we have, I rub his back for a few steps on our return to the house. Even though it’s coming off as reassurance that things will get better with Sage, the other Ciphers, hopefully Luke, too. Sad that this is the only affection I can give him, I drop my hand and walk in silence by his side.

  The back screen door clatters behind Atlas and I just in time to hear our motorcycle club President, Jett Cocker, announce with his phone still in hand, “We’ve got a new application for membership to the Ciphers!”

  All heads turn. Forks suspend in the air. Grits hover. Cajun shrimp, too. Tater tots are held just outside of mouths. You have to say something really shocking to stop eating Melodi’s amazing cooking. Forks drop to the plates next. Taters tossed down, too.

  Jett’s wife Luna asks, “Sofia found a recruit?” filling us in on who he was talking to before we walked in. He runs his hand down the back of her head, over grey-streaked black hair, before resting on her ass.

  “Looks like it,” he tells her and everyone present. Our kitchen is adjoining to a TV room, no wall between them, just a pathway and an industrial-sized kitchen island separating the two. Every Cipher not on a mission is present to hear him tell Luna Cocker, “Our daughter has informed me that she and Tyler met someone we need to meet.”

  Seated beside his wife Melodi in front of a football game, Fuse nearly shouts, “We haven’t had a new Cipher in the Louisiana House for three decades!”

  Murmurs of agreement all around.

  I glance to Atlas to see if he’s wondering what I am: where is Sofia? What is this mission Tyler took her on? We don’t call each other when we’re on the road unless we have to. You never know if a ringing phone could blow the cover of someone breaking into an evil bastard’s house or business. Sure, we’re supposed to turn them off so they don’t ring or vibrate, but hey, we make mistakes. We’re only human.

  The dam has burst and questions pour out of stunned mouths as Jett waves for the mass of almost twenty people to calm the fuck down. “Alright, listen up!” He pats his wife’s butt and kisses her cheek as he heads over to stand in front of the TV, turning it off. That even Scythe doesn’t object to the football-block is telling of how weird this circumstance is.

  The antique light illuminates Jett’s right side, making his white-blonde hair and striking grey eyes lighter. “Looks like Tyler and Sofia found a kid who doesn’t fit in with normal society. Hates authority. Been fighting. Here’s the thing—when he fights, he’s been defending the innocent. Taking down bullies. We know something about that here, don’t we?”

  Jett waits as we exchange glances of connection and interest.

  It’s what Ciphers do, fight for those who can’t.

  Only we do it together in an organized way.

  Adjusting his shoulder to continue, our President holds his hand out, palm down, fingers as steady as if he were holding a weapon. “Problem is, the kid lives among normies. His brawls are making them nervous.” Louder grunts from the older Ciphers who grew up in normie-households. They found the Ciphers and joined as adults. Sofia Sol, Tyler, Atlas, Sage, Luke, Tonk Jr, Shay, Mylar, and I were born into this wild life—none of us have ever tried to be normal.

  Jett’s handsome face explodes into that famous cocky smile, all confidence and sneakiness. “Yeah, we know something about normies getting upset by the things we do!” Most everyone cheers. Some just smile, like me.

  My mind is on Atlas, as usual. And I can’t stop glancing over for his reaction to gauge it.

  Jett’s voice pulls my attention back as he gets serious. “This is how it’s gonna go down. The kid is waiting for my call. Name’s Sean. I’ve been given a code-word to use so that when I phone him up he knows it’s me.” Under his breath, Jett grumbles, “Leave it to my daughter to come up with this shit.” Louder he goes on to explain, “I’ll invite Sean here. Check him out. If I like him enough to give him a shot, I’ll introduce him to you all. Then he’ll stay a while. We’ll watch him. Train him. Slowly. See what kind of man we’re dealing with. This kid might be a fucking punk we’ll throw back into the water. And since we’re a family, a democracy, it will come down to a vote. Majority wins.”

  Honey Badger rumbles, “When’s the vote gonna be? How long until he’s done?”

  Grey eyes shimmer under a cocked eyebrow. “When I fuckin’ say he is.”

  CHAPTER 2

  SEAN

  Hope.

  That’s what I have now.

  A glimmer of it only, but it’s there.

  They said to train while I wait for their call. I’m in pretty good shape to start with. Breaking a sweat, I feel I’ve accomplished something. Clears my head of the demons—those fucked up voices that tell me on a daily basis that nothing I do matters. You’re worthless. Can’t keep your mouth shut. Can’t fit into the mold they made for you. So what if it doesn’t fit? Get smaller. Conform. Stop fighting. Give in. Why not just look the other way like everyone else?

  I hate those voices.

  Hate isn’t a strong enough word.

  It makes sense to hide in my video games.

  Hell, it’d make sense to lose myself in booze, drugs, food, sex.

  Life is hard when you’re different, like me.

  But I keep thinking there’s gotta be a better way.

  Then they gave me hope, those two Ciphers who came to my mom’s home. She’d sent them here for me. Didn’t even give me a heads up. Just sent them knocking with patches on their leather jackets and meticulous methods of walking, talking, entering our home, that told me to watch myself—they could be dangerous if they wanted to be. Even the girl. Especially the girl, since she was so beautiful you’d lose sight of her fists.

  They explained while I listened like my life depended on i
t, that there might be a place for me to scratch this itch. That how I’ve been fucking up, might be useful to them. This mouth of mine, my need to defend even when it costs me my job, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in their world. I might be able to save the innocent.

  Hope.

  That’s what they left behind when they walked out.

  Hope.

  I’ve been in the backyard training since they left a couple days ago, practicing the videos he suggested I research. It’s tough without a partner. No mirrors in our backyard to show me if I’m even doing it right. Just some weights, a leather punching bag, and birds chirping in the maple trees, egging me on. My adrenaline goes in spikes and valleys with each passing hour that my phone doesn’t ring. Is this part of the test? Make me wait? Or is the call never gonna come...

  With every push-up I shove doubt down.

  Mom calls through the open glass doors, knife suspended from slicing tomatoes, “Honey, your phone’s ringing on the charger!”

  Rushing inside I snatch it from the counter beside her, and see a Louisiana area code glowing from the screen. My heart punches my ribs as I answer, “Hello?”

  The voice is deep, “Sean?” like I’m a sleeper-spy receiving that crucial call that activates me, changes my life forever.

  “Yeah, this is Sean. Who’s this?”

  “Jett Cocker.”

  I glance to my mother and nod that it’s him. She’s holding her breath, sets the knife on the cutting board with her hand pressed flat over the handle.

  “How do I know it’s you? I was told there would be a password.”

  Silence. He clears his throat. “Code word is…Tickles.”

  My eyes close with relief, and a smile tugs at my mouth. Guy hated saying that. Sofia was probably fucking with him when she invented it. Makes me like her even more than I did instinctively. She sang to my mom’s cat. What’s not to like?

  I keep my voice sober, clear of the relief I feel. “That’s the password. I’m glad you called. What do you need me to do?”