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Sean aka Diesel (Cocker Brothers Book 14)

Page 6

by Faleena Hopkins


  “Don’t need to try that hard to impress us, kid.”

  “Hey, who’s road kill here? Sean, is that you? Sorry buddy, couldn’t recognize you with all the lacerations.”

  “Might want to try a different plastic surgeon.”

  “Yeah, that one fucked you up good!”

  “I’d get my money back.”

  “I’d get my face back!”

  “Yeah, where’d you leave it?”

  That’s when I start laughing, and they all crack up with me. This pain was a small price to pay for them treating me like I’m a friend. Sage tells the room as she munches on scrambled eggs and jalapeño sausages, “And yet he’s walking around like he’s untouched. You have a high tolerance for pain, Sean.”

  As I pour fresh coffee into one of the waiting mugs, I mutter, “Guess so.”

  Honey Badger grumbles over buttered wheat toast, “You’ll need it.”

  The playfulness of the room dissipates as Ciphers reach over each other to fill their plates. I grab my stuff and head outside to eat on the back porch since I saw Celia and Atlas go out there. Sky’s as bright as it was yesterday, muggier though. As I approach I hear Atlas say to her, “My stomach’s killing me.”

  She frowns, totally focused on him. She leans over and touches it.

  My gaze drops to the old table where my plate and coffee find a home. I take a seat on one of the rocking chairs, trying to hide my interest in their connection. I still haven’t been able to figure it out yet. I know she likes him, but how does he feel about her?

  “Stomach flu?” she asks, voice gentle.

  He winces, puts her hand back on her leg, acting tough. “I’m cool. Probably just ate something bad.”

  His rejecting her help made her self-conscious and she throws me a look to see if I caught it, too. My face is void of opinion, though I’ve got a few. I take Sage’s example I saw inside just now, and eat my sausage with my fingers, too.

  Since I’ve been getting to know Atlas, staying in his room and all, I decide to venture a question. “Your dad mad I’m here?”

  “He’s mad my brother’s not.” Shoving some toast in his mouth, he stares off.

  Celia’s quiet a moment then shares with me, “Luke slept with Sofia Sol, and that’s forbidden.”

  This confuses me. When I met them, I thought they were together. Even called her his girlfriend and they didn’t dispute it. It was an assumption on my part that they let ride. Sofia Sol told me they wouldn’t get close to me until I was one of them. Probably threw out the decoy to confuse me.

  “Smart,” I mutter behind my steaming coffee.

  Atlas’s explodes, “What’s smart about it?!”

  I lower the cup, “Whoa, I wasn’t talking about that. My mind went on a different tangent.” His eyes narrow with suspicion, so I set my coffee on the table. “Didn’t know I’d spoken ‘til you freaked, Atlas. Swear to God.”

  Celia hurries to reassure him, her hand clasping his bicep with easy familiarity. “You know Sean’s honest. If he meant to say that them hooking up was smart, he’d own it.”

  “It’s true, I would.”

  He shoots off the chair, ripping free from Celia’s touch, storms off to who knows where. We watch him. I venture a confused, “What was that about?”

  She stares at the spot where he was, voice low, too. “He’s working through some things.”

  “Probably just the tension in the house. Misses his brother. Sister treating him like shit. Dad barely talking. Or is his dad always like that?”

  “Opposite. He and Jett love each other. They’re super tight. Honey Badger is ferocious out on the road when we do missions, but at home he’s a sweetheart, laughing and making jokes all the time. Always at someone’s expense.”

  “I noticed that’s the way it rolls here.”

  “You like that?”

  “What’s not to like?” Grabbing up a sausage I tell her, “Life is tough. You’ve gotta be able to laugh at yourself.”

  She smiles at me, and I return it, holding her eyes a second before remembering the rule I just heard. “So, uh, Celia?”

  “Yeah?”

  “That forbidden thing. That just for…who?”

  She stares at me for a second before her pretty eyelashes fall to her lap. “There’s no sex allowed in the house if you’re not married, or going to be. Causes drama we can’t have here.” Meeting my eyes she looks soft, maybe even shy. This girl’s not shy, so her altered demeanor has got my attention. “Like you said, life is tough. Especially out there. We need us to be as strong as we can get. You see how Jett and Honey Badger are! The weird vibe that falls over us whenever we’re reminded who’s missing. I just hope Luke’s okay.”

  Taking a sip I flatly say, “He is.”

  Celia nods, then blinks at me, cocking her head. “How do you know?”

  “This a test?”

  “No, why would it be?”

  I lean back in the chair and ask her, “Would you tell me if it was?”

  She thinks about it. “Maybe not.”

  “Then I’m keeping my mouth shut.”

  “It’s not a test!”

  Bringing the cup to my lips I stare ahead. “Not falling for it.”

  “What can I do to make you believe me?”

  Eyeing her from my profile I think about it, running my tongue over my teeth as the ideas swing by.

  Flash me.

  I wish.

  Come sit on my lap.

  Now you’re just being stupid, Sean.

  Finally I say, “Tell me how you really feel about Atlas.”

  She sits back like I’ve got bad breath and she got too close. “He’s a friend! And a family member, the way all the Ciphers are.”

  “Uh huh. How come I think there’s more to it than that?”

  “You’re seeing things, I guess.”

  Clicking my teeth with my tongue I go back to eating my eggs, which are cold yet still tasty. Celia stares at me while I ignore her and enjoy my meal. After a good six, seven minutes she stamps her boot on the old wood porch. Eyeing her in the same way as before I smirk, “Something bothering you, Ceels?”

  Dark eyes flash as she stews in her anger. She wants the information I have but has to be honest to get it. And that means maybe saying something she’s never told anyone. Scanning the house, she leans forward and whispers, “Fine, I have feelings for him. You happy now?”

  Not in the slightest. Hearing it aloud sticks a knife in my gut to a level I hadn’t anticipated. My casually entertained, cocky attitude turns to irritation. Wiping my hands on my jeans I don’t meet her eyes just in case she sees I’m not cool with this. “Alright, I’ll tell you since you finally came clean. No test?”

  “No test!”

  “I don’t understand why you all keep acting like you don’t know where he is. It was him and Sofia Sol who recruited me in Arizona.”

  Dozens of thoughts take turns dominating her face. “She’s with him?”

  I grab Celia’s leg, whispering, “Don’t tell. Don’t you dare fucking tell. I don’t want to be the reason they get in more trouble. I thought you knew. Don’t tell!”

  She looks at the house again, covers my hand with hers and locks eyes with me. “I won’t.”

  “Promise?”

  “She’s my best friend, Sean. The only person I’d tell is Atlas and I can’t tell him because…well, I just can’t.” Squeezing my fingers, she reassures me, “I’m not a snitch. You have my word this won’t go anywhere besides here.”

  We’re in close proximity to each other but this time there are no mitts on. We’re alone, she’s holding my hand, and a crazy impulse to kiss her overcomes me. I fight it and pull my fingers away. Dragging them over my head to get a hold of myself, I wince as I hit a goose-egg.

  Celia sighs, “Yeah, you’re a mess. Probably need some aspirin.”

  “No fuckin’ way.”

  She tilts her head, “You’re being dumb.”

  “Thank you,” I mutte
r.

  “For what?”

  “I see you respect me, Celia. It’s in your eyes, even when you mock me I can see it. All I want is to be around people who don’t buy the bullshit the masses feed us. You don’t know what you’ve got here. I haven’t been on a mission with you guys but from the conversations I’ve overheard for the past six days, they’re fuckin’ incredible.” Locking eyes with her I shake my head in disbelief. “I really don’t know how I got such a cool mom but she’s the reason I’m here. She knew I needed this.”

  “Do you need this, Sean?”

  “Like someone who’s starving needs a lifetime of hot meals.”

  She smiles, sits back and stares into the sunny backyard. “You’re right, our life is pretty amazing.”

  Celia’s so confident, centered, and I love watching her move. She doesn’t try to look sexy, but she is. So many times I’ve soaked her in when she had no idea I was engrossed in her. It’s the little things, too. When she reached over the arms of her fellow Ciphers for an extra slider two nights ago I was hypnotized by the grace of her angles, the balance on her toes. “How long have you trained?”

  “Since I was seven. We all learned how to use a firearm by that age.” At my reaction she becomes serious, “They taught us that the gun won’t do anything you don’t make it do. By misuse, clumsiness, anything. So why not choose to use it with skill. We used tiny twenty-twos.”

  I take a sip of caffeine. “Yeah, but age seven?”

  “With as many guns as we have in this house?” Celia raises her eyebrows. “You think you want kids not knowing how to use them? What if an accidental—”

  “How ‘bout hiding them?”

  Her mouth clamps shut. “We’re not a normal family, Sean.”

  “No shit.”

  “We don’t hide here. And we don’t abuse weapons. We bend them to our will, not the other way around.”

  “Look, I’m being the devil’s advocate.”

  “I’ve seen the devil, and I shot him.”

  Seeing she’s serious, I lose my glibness. “Tell me.”

  “Nothing to tell.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Celia holds my eyes for a few beats, then decides to tell the story. Rapt, I listen until she says, “And that’s how they finally took me seriously.”

  After a beat I blurt an angry, “How could anyone not take you seriously?”

  She flashes a smile. “You’ve come to the party late.”

  “I don’t care when I’d come. I’ve never seen anyone like you.”

  “Sofia’s much more fierce than I am.”

  “Well no doubt!” I shift in my chair so fast the coffee sloshes. Dropping it on the table I meet her hurt look. “You’ve got something that’s all yours! Don’t compare yourself to anybody. You’ve got so many layers I don’t think I’d ever be done getting to know you, no matter if we lived to two hundred!” Her mouth goes slack, but I’m not done. Leaning forward I hold her warm brown eyes. “Your softness is your strength. And if you’re worried about being too soft, look at this bruise right here. And this cut. And this one. And have you seen my fucking thighs lately? Or my shins? Want me to drop my pants right now, because I will!”

  Laughing she waves for me to sit back down. “Okay! Okay, stop it!”

  Plopping back into the chair I adjust my shirt and mutter, “Take a look in the mirror sometime would ya? You’re a badass. And not only that, you’re so beautiful you hurt my eyes.”

  Celia stares at me, surprised.

  I keep my cool, hold her look.

  Stuttering she rises. “I…I uh…I told Sage I had to…”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you later,” I mutter, gaze shifting to the view.

  She hurries into the house.

  CHAPTER 12

  SEAN

  J ett grumbles his way down the back porch steps, the world cast with a blue hue from dawn’s yawning light. “How the hell did you beat me to morning? I’m always up first.”

  I finish the last three pushups to meet my goal, and leap up to standing, brushing dirt from my hands. “Didn’t like the day off yesterday. Felt I was slipping.”

  Grey eyes slide toward the house. “Coffee’s not made yet. Want some?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I casually shrug when inwardly I’m excited to spend time alone with the man. I like how easy going his power is. How respectful, even playful, he is with the members of his club. He doesn’t throw his ego around, though it’s strong enough to keep a wild bunch of animals like this family at heel. That’s some feat.

  Jett gives the screen door a back kick to throw it open for me to catch. My chewed up fingers wrap around it with the precision of blocking a punch. Impressed with my improved reflexes I mutter, “Nice,” and follow him.

  “You’re learning quickly,” he notes, pulling out two filters and a huge bag of whole beans, Sumatra dark blend. “Training so many days in a row will do that. The muscles want to work. You’re making them happy.”

  As I lift the coffee grinder’s lid and slide the appliance to him, I agree, “That’s why I couldn’t sleep. My body was wondering what the fuck I was doing in bed. Like I had to work out.”

  He nods and turns the thing on, waits while it wakes the whole first floor. Glancing to me he shuts it off, pours the grounds into an industrial-sized coffee maker. “You’re wondering why I don’t just buy them pre-ground. Go ahead and fill this with some water, would ya?” While I go to the clean sink, he explains, “My brother Jaxson, he’s the oldest. My best friend. Well, outside of my wife…and Honey Badger, the stubborn jackass. Anyway, growing up, Jaxson and I were the greatest. Raised hell all through school. Gave our younger brothers a ready-made reputation of pure shit,” he chuckles, watching me pour water into the coffee maker. Switching the button and adjusting the big pot Jett continues, “Jaxson’s got this thing about using a French Press. Coffee beans shiny as you can get them. Ground fresh every morning. He has a ranch an hour north of Atlanta. His son Ben is just a mile away from that. If they could grow their own beans they would, but their focus is on other things I guess.” His eyes have love in them, and it’s interesting for a guy like me to see. You can be as masculine as any man out there, yet still have a heart.

  “You can’t do the French Press with this many people.”

  Jett glances to me. “That’s right! Bunch of caffeine addicts like this would fight over the pots. I tried it once.” At my raised eyebrows, Jett cracks his knuckles on a smirk, “Jaxson bought me one for Christmas one of the first years I joined the club. You should have seen how much shit I got for that! Hell, we drink beer out of cans for fuck’s sake! In Atlanta—my blood family—they only drink local craft beers in the bottle or draft. Glass doesn’t fuck with the taste like aluminum does—all that snooty nonsense.” Jett tosses up the bag of whole beans, catches it and locks eyes with me. “But I won in the end.”

  Smiling I jog my chin to the large sack as he pours more into the grinder. “You got them to go for the freshly ground good stuff.”

  “That’s right. Melodi helped me since her taste buds are unsurpassed, and she wanted the good stuff to feed her caffeine addiction. We secretly served it four days in a row, got them used to the richness without them knowing what we were doing. Then we switched to the crappy kind and they did this.” He makes a disgusted face, mimics them asking, “What the hell is this shit? What happened to the good coffee? Boy, I jumped on them! It was the fresh ground whole Sumatra beans you dumbasses! Told you it was worth the two seconds it takes to blend it!”

  “How’d you sneak it by them, though?” I grin. “That sound! It’s not subtle.”

  “Oh you mean this sound?” He turns on the grinder, the noise obnoxious. Switching it off he darts a look outside. “I’d grind in the garage before everyone got up!”

  “No way!”

  Cracking up, he pours more into the waiting, second filter for the cups that won’t be filled with just one batch. “I was playing the long game.”


  His wife walks into the kitchen, the twin of what he wears, all black—jeans, t-shirt, boots. Her long salt and pepper hair hangs damp over her shoulders. “I wish I was there for that,” she murmurs against his lips as he grabs her ass.

  “You heard the story I was tellin’ Sean?”

  “Tail end but I’ve heard it before.”

  “Not too many times I hope,” he murmurs between kisses, his tone sexual, shameless.

  She gives him a seductive smile. “I love your stories, Jett.”

  “You showered without me.”

  “I waited and you never came.”

  It’s so intimate and unselfconscious, I feel like I’m not supposed to be here. Turning away, I pull out coffee cups for the club as the distant sounds of people waking drifts into the kitchen like a symphony before a show. My mom used to drive me to the Opera, plus any musicals that came to some of the larger theaters in bigger towns than ours. She wanted me to experience culture, but I always liked the awkward part—the time before the performance where everyone was doing their own thing. When they came together and started the song it had more impact because I saw the grit behind it. The squealing violin bows finding their pitch. The horns bursting in odd blasts that never matched. Chairs scraping on the ground as musicians found a better position to read the music.

  “Look who’s helping like he’s always been here!” Melodi shouts as she ruffles short, grey-blonde hair with one lazy hand.

  Fuse heads straight for the ready pot and takes a cup from me. “Thanks,” he grunts, not a morning person either.

  Curious, I ask Jett. “You said Jaxson was your older brother. How many siblings do you have?”

  “Five. All brothers.”

  “Six of you are walking this planet?” I laugh.

  On a proud grin he nods, “That’s right. Six motherfucking Cocker Brothers. Some of the biggest badasses this world has ever seen.”

  Luna chuckles, “If you do say so yourself.”

  “Baby, you don’t get the nickname Cocky for nothing. We earned that shit! Ask any of their wives! Ask Atlanta!”

  “Mmhmm,” she hums, kissing him.

  Moving out of the way of the growing crowd of Ciphers I tell Jett, “I’ve been called cocky many times.”

 

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