Sofia Sol Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 13)

by Faleena Hopkins

  Jett and my father barrel down the old porch with their crew, wooden steps creaking under the collective weight.

  To protect the girls I shout, “We had to make the call!”

  Grey eyes lock on me, then slam onto his daughter as he bellows, “Less than two weeks ago cops are sniffing around our home and now you guys fuck this up so bad we gotta answer more questions? What part of staying under the radar do you not understand about what we do?”

  The four of us are circled. Soph and her father square off. She’s controlling her temper, lips twisting to the side, boots kicking the broken pavement like a bull about to charge. Her arms explode out. “Nobody is going to miss that pervert!”

  “You were supposed to get in, see if the tip had merit, then get out!”

  She cocks her head. “Celia was in danger. She reacted. What would you have her do, sing him a lullaby?!”

  “Daughter!” Jett roars, “You’re so much like your mother, it’s scary.” As he switches his attention to Celia, she bites her lip. “Were you in danger?”

  Her eyes drop to the ground. “No.”

  Soph hisses, “Celia!”

  “He didn’t have a gun. I did.”

  “Bullshit! He grabbed Celia. We were in the basement, found the bodies, and she was up there…” Sofia Sol realizes her error and clamps her mouth shut.

  Tonk fucking loses it. “You left my daughter alone when there were four of you on the mission? Two go downstairs! Two stay up! Didn’t we teach you anything?!”

  “Dad, I can take care of myself!”

  “You shouldn’t have to!”

  My brother and I exchange a look. We’re supposed to protect the women at all times, that’s our calling even before hunting the evil of this world. We have nothing if we don’t have our family. It’s family first, then the mission.

  I raise my voice to join the conversation even though it’s not my place. I’m not the one being addressed and the President calls the shots in confrontations among the club. Especially when it comes to fuck-ups.

  “Look, I can’t stay quiet and let the girls take the heat. This was all us, me and Atlas. We were too sure he wasn’t coming back. We got too comfortable.”

  Atlas nods, “Recent missions have gone smoothly, last four in a row. Didn’t occur to us he might come back.”

  Our father is shaking his head as he grunts, “We taught you better than this.”

  Like soldiers we nod.

  Sofia is gritting her teeth. “It’s my fault, too, I was down there with them. I didn’t say go back up. I should have.”

  Scythe and Fuse stay watchful but silent, since our fathers are responsible for us. Through the screen door I can see our moms, waiting. What a nightmare. Soph glances over to me. I nod that this sucks, but it’s all on us. She closes her eyes.

  Jett points at the house. “You four get in there and stay outta my sight until I figure out how to handle this.”

  We have to walk around the older crew to get by. They don’t move, one big wall of muscle and experience reminding us we have a lot to learn no matter how good we think we are.

  My father says at our backs, “Never get soft. Always sharp. It’ll save your lives.”

  Soph turns around on the first stair of our porch. “Dad, we told the cops he looked like he was pulling out a gun. They think it’s self-defense, that Celia was protecting herself.”

  Jett counters, “What we don’t want is the cops asking why we were there. How we knew. We stay invisible so we can help more people.” He faces Tonk and mutters, “Last thing we need is Celia on a witness stand. The girl can’t lie.”

  Tonk glares at me, Atlas, and Sofia Sol—we let his daughter down. Celia shakes her head and walks inside with us right behind.

  Carmen and Luna, best friends all these years just like their daughters, stand waiting next to each other for our arrival. Opposite them are Melodi and our mother, Meg. Mel is here to support Mom because they’re super close—have been since Mom almost died from Pneumonia when she gave birth to Sage. Controlling-Type-A-personality, Melodi stayed by her, and never left.

  Carmen is the first to grab her daughter’s face with loving hands. “Celia, you okay?”

  “I’m not sorry I did it. He killed those poor kids!” She melts into her mother’s arms, tears falling for the children and their families.

  Our mom stays put, knowing better than to baby us. “Your father was hard on you,” she gently says.

  “He has to be,” I shrug.

  Atlas nods.

  Mel puts her arm around her and says, “They’re fine, Meg. Probably hungry. Let’s go fix ‘em up something to eat.”

  They head away and don’t see the surprise of the century as Luna reaches out to push a lock of dark hair behind Sofia’s ear. “You’re pretty messed up over this, huh?”

  Atlas and I cross our arms, heads tipped down even though we can’t stop watching.

  Soph mumbles, “I should have been with her, Mom.”

  “Yeah, but we make mistakes. Nobody in this house is perfect.”

  Nibbling her bottom lip, Soph nods. It’s a struggle for her to say, “Thank you.”

  Suddenly Luna pulls her daughter close, kissing the side of her head and whispering something that I strain to catch but can’t. Haven’t seen Luna like this with Soph since she was seven years old or something close to then.

  Releasing her she says in a normal volume, “You ever need me, I’m here, understand? I’m hard on you, Sofia, but that’s because you need your lessons rough.”

  Soph nods like the little girl I grew up with, not the powerful, badass bitch that she’s become. I frown as I see the softness in her eyes, the gratitude that her mother said such a kind thing to her at a time like this.

  She looks fucking beautiful, and I’m struck by a desire to hold her, too.

  Jealousy flits to my brother.

  It’s subconscious.

  I don’t mean to glare at him.

  I don’t even know I’m doing it until he cocks his head, eyeing me like, what the fuck?

  I drop my rage to the tattered rug and walk down the hall. Need to get out of this house. Do a job on the road to clear my head.

  Tonk Jr. walks out of one of our sitting rooms, “Hey, Luke, can I talk to you for a second?”

  Frowning I stay my path. “No.”

  He stares after me as I march through the kitchen, TV room on the right, then explode outside, old screen door clattering objection to the abuse.

  Dragging angry hands through my hair I keep right on walking, ancient oak trees on both sides of me.

  Atlas shouts my name. I don’t look back. He shouts again, “Luke!” and the sound of grass making way for running boots lets me know he’ll never let me ignore him.

  Stopping right here, memories thick in my mind, I wait. He faces me, eyes narrowed with questions. We’re daring the other to speak first.

  He demands, “What’s up with you lately?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’ve been weird with me.”

  I hook my thumbs in my front pockets. He crosses his arms. And we stare.

  He’s my best friend.

  I’m his.

  But right now I want to punch him because he was with her.

  And that ain’t right.

  “How long has it been going on?”

  “What?”

  I throw him a look. “You know what.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You think I’m stupid?”

  “I know you are.”

  This yanks a reluctant smile from me. He returns it, but his eyes are faking innocence, which means he knows. Atlas is as innocent as I am.

  “How long have you been fucking Sofia Sol?”

  He takes a step back. “How long have I been what? That’s crazy! She’s forbidden fruit and you know it!”

  “Doesn’t mean you’re not lying through your teeth right now. The same teeth that were on her body, no doubt in my mind. And you�
�re wasting your time, she confessed.”

  His pupils contract and he cocks his head, long hair lifted by a quick breeze at the ends. “No way she confessed shit.”

  I sneer at him. “I called her out. She couldn’t deny it. Not believably. You don’t think I didn’t notice you looking at her? How you showed up late to the marsh for that gator? How her eyes darted to you when she was lying about some stupid ranch hand? How you’ve been following her around here, ever since!” I push him in the chest, and he corrects his footing. “You crossed a line!”

  Anger flashes, innocence gone. “We’re adults now! If we want to fuck, that’s between me and Soph and no one else! Not even you, Luke!”

  “Nothing is between just two people in this house and you know it!”

  His nostrils flare and he pushes me, snarling, “It is between people who get married!”

  My turn for shock, and boy is it strong.

  The idea of Atlas taking Soph as his wife never occurred to me. Jealousy and fury comes hot, instantaneous, giving my tongue the taste of metal. I start to pace.

  He watches me, eyes wary with intense concentration. “I see what it is now! You want her for yourself.”

  My head pivots on its access. “You love her?”

  He shoots back, “Do you?!”

  My lip curls. “We’re done talking.”

  A sardonic laugh ripples from my brother’s chest. “Oh yeah? You goin’ in to tell them all about what we did? You think that’s smart? Because everything will change.”

  Leaning toward him I snarl, “I’m not telling anybody. You’ll do that when you get her a ring.” I storm away.

  He sarcastically yells at my back, “That’s real nice of ya!”

  I charge him, get in his face, “If you toy with her you’ll answer to me.”

  “Toy with Soph?” he laughs. “You know that’s not possible. I love her like I love everyone in that house. And she can take care of herself.” He steps around me and heads off. I watch him go, glaring at his back and picturing the two of them together. That’s the problem. I can see every thrust he gave her. Every caress. Every kiss.

  My imagination is my hell.

  And now it’s all I have of her.

  CHAPTER 10

  SOFIA SOL

  A ll the Ciphers who live here, convene in the TV room and adjoining kitchen with afternoon sunlight pouring in from open windows, the smell of food hovering in the air, Melodi’s incredibly spicy tacos we can’t get enough of but abandoned as soon as the landline rang. From everywhere in the house and outside, we raced, plates abandoned, to hear what that phone call was about.

  Tyler, Melodi’s oldest who lives at the Montana house with his wife, Inez, is here, too. And he’s just as somber as everyone.

  When Celia’s in trouble, we are, too. There is no separation. Everyone goes down when one does.

  “They want me to go to the station for questioning,” Celia tells us all.

  Dad exhales. “I’ll go with you.”

  “You weren’t there,” I argue. “I’ll go.”

  “You’re too close to this.”

  Mom holds my look. “You’ll do anything to protect her.”

  “Exactly!”

  Carmen backs me up. “Sofia being there will steady my Celia, Luna.”

  “I know you feel that way, but Sofia Sol walking into a police station is like bringing lighter fluid to a burning forest. She can’t handle authority.”

  “That’s bullshit, Mom!”

  Her eyebrow cocks. “Case in point.”

  Atlas offers a weirdly timed, “Soph, let’s go for a ride.”

  Luke clears his throat, but it sounds more like a stifled, sarcastic laugh.

  Honey Badger growls at them. “Neither of you gets the luxury of blowing off steam. Jett, take my boys with you. They’ll offer up testimony. I’m sure the police want it. How’re you gonna explain Soph not coming?”

  “I’ll take her tomorrow, separate trip. Say she was sick. That way it’ll just be me and her.” Dad flicks a glance to me. “You’ll be a beast in a cage if they cart Celia away and you’re there. Can’t risk your temper. If you’re not protecting Celia, you’ll be fine.”

  “You’re right but I don’t have to like it.”

  “Never said you did.”

  Celia takes a deep breath. “Let’s get it over with.”

  Those standing in the way move to let them through.

  I call out, “You guys!” Luke, Atlas and Ceels look back at me, waiting. “Just stick to what we agreed on. Keep it short. Exact. No room for inconsistency. Our stories have to match.” They nod and disappear together. My chest tightens as the rest of us listen to them go. It’s so quiet we can hear the front door click shut in the distance. A dozen chests exhale frustration, anger, and helplessness.

  Sweet Carmen covers her face and bursts into tears. Tonk pulls her close to hush her crying, “Don’t worry, it won’t help.”

  “Why couldn’t she have shot him in the leg? Why’d she have to kill him?”

  “Crime of passion.”

  Tonk Jr. defends his sister, stoically telling the room, “Celia did what she thought was best.”

  Furious and defending my soul-sister, I laugh, “A crime? Are you kidding? Killing that pedophile was justice!!”

  Melodi agrees, “This is not the first time we’ve killed someone who deserved it.”

  Denita hushes her, “My kids are too young to hear this part of what we do.”

  “Knowledge is power,” I say without apology, and all eyes shift again to me. It’s my Mom’s who I can’t look at. I might not say what I have to. So I focus on my best friend’s mother and make my case. “She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t jarred. She wasn’t confused. Celia’s hand was steady. And you know what else? She doesn’t need a damn shrink to get over it. She heard us down there, learned what happened to those children, and she stepped up. Took a man out who’s brought more pain to this world than we can even imagine. I understand why you think she’s frail and can’t handle cops questioning her, or if she has to go to trial, what then, right? I thought she was vulnerable, too. It’s her kindness that makes her seem that way. But we’ve all been selling her short, and I promised Celia I would never do that again. So let’s stop being so scared and trust that she can handle this! I need some air.” The screen door clatters as I inhale bright afternoon sunlight. Taking steps in rapid fire to ground level down the porch, I hear it slam again. Looking over my shoulder I groan because my mother is following me, her steps controlled.

  “Mom, I don’t need a lecture right now.”

  “Let’s take a walk to the garage.”

  “Oh great, it’s going to get that loud?”

  “Just walk.”

  It’s more warehouse than garage, built years ago when Scratch was President of this house. Some of his hogs are still in it, covered in dust at the shadowy far end. The door is open, lights off. Mom hits a switch and rows of chrome wink hello.

  This view I will never get tired of.

  Mom and I are the only ones who ride Triumphs and not Harleys, and she walks to hers and touches the scarred saddlebags with thoughts playing across her beautiful, dark brown eyes. “Do you remember when you were little and Celia wanted to sleep in her own bed?”

  I blink at her—her tone not anticipated. It’s the second time Mom has surprised me in two days. I hate being taken off guard.

  “No, I don’t remember.”

  “You were very young. And you adored her.”

  “Still do.”

  “I know,” Mom sighs, leaning on her bike and crossing her arms. “Celia was so self-contained, and your first breath was a fireball. I think her presence calmed you.”

  “Still does.”

  “Yes.” She pauses, staring off. “It does.”

  “Did I get mad when she wanted to leave? Is that why you’re bringing this up now?”

  “No, not mad. You were scared.”

  I scoff, “No way.”
>
  Mom smiles, then laughs. “Believe it or not, you’ve been scared before.”

  Kicking the cement with the toe of my boot I think about what happened, weighing if I want to share something with her about it. “I was scared when I heard her cry for help in that house. Terrified me. Thought I was right this whole time that I’ve wanted her off the missions. Turns out I’m not always right.”

  “You realized you underestimated her.”

  “Yeah. But finish the story about when we were kids. What happened?”

  Memories play out as Mom’s gaze drops. She’s quiet for a few seconds and then frowns. “You were determined to keep Celia in the same bed with you, two little girls cuddled up like puppies. But she’s almost three years older than you and one night she finally wanted to be in her own bed. I wasn’t sure how to handle it, honestly. I lost my mother when I was a girl, and before that…it wasn’t a normal relationship. Everything about motherhood was new to me. I watched the other Ciphers women, tried to learn, but I was stubborn to say the least.” Mom stares off, pausing. “But turns out I wasn’t the one to find a solution. Celia came up with one of her own. She had the idea to sleep in the opposite direction in her bed, where her feet were supposed to be. That way you could see her face more easily, because you liked to sleep on your back. And I watched you work it out together, two little girls finding their way. I said goodnight, or I love you, or something to that effect, and you wouldn’t take your eyes off Celia even as you answered me. It was the sweetest thing, Sofia.” She meets my eyes. “I knew in my heart then that she was meant to be here, and you were meant to love her. She calms you a little. Not much, but it’s enough. God knows I don’t have that effect on you.”

  I smile, “We don’t calm each other at all, Mom.”

  “That’s why I’ve been so worried for you since this happened. I know you’re hiding the fact that you’re scared again, of losing her.”

  I blink and try to hold it together. Nothing truer has ever been said to me. “What if they charge her with murder? What if she has to go to jail?”

  “We have to wait and see, but I don’t think a jury would convict her, do you?”

  “How could they?”

  “You know what they do to pedophiles in prison, right?”