A Honey Badger X-mas: The Ciphers MC (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 7)

by Faleena Hopkins

  At The Truffle Shop I buy up a ton of ‘em because they’re fucking amazing. Meg explains that each one is hand-painted, but all I care about is the taste. Damn, that’s some good chocolate. “I’m gonna try and bring these back to Louisiana, but I don’t know if they’ll make it.”

  As we go from store to store, I’m digging into my memory banks for what I’ve seen my brothers do with their women, how they’ve acted. I’m trying to figure out how to behave before she figures out I’ve never done this before. Sex, I’ve done. But not this.

  The Ciphers are a gruff bunch, but they’re gentlemen. I’ve never been one, but I wanna learn. Even if it means I’m gonna get a load of shit for it when I get back home.

  We head into Café Mekka, a coffee shop with a splash of hippy. Local art covering the walls. Longhaired people lounging around, some strumming on guitars while talking with their friends. I barely get a once-over in here so I nod approval, and order my girl a hot chocolate, and a black coffee for me.

  “You want espresso?”

  “Fuck no.”

  The messy-haired lady smiles at my answer and heads off to make it.

  The tip jar has a hand-written note: Improve your karma. I throw a twenty in and mutter to Meg, “Need all the help I can get,” with a smirk.

  She leans into me and lays her cheek on my collarbone, gazing at the guitarist who just found a melody he likes. “That’s pretty,” she whispers.

  “You’re pretty.”

  She glances up and holds my eyes with a growing smile. “Where did you come from?”

  “Hell,” I smirk. “But I’m glad they let me out.”

  She hits my chest and burrows in again, listening to the music with me until our hot drinks are set on the counter behind us. I pay the lady and watch Meg’s ass as she heads for the self-serve station where cream, stir-sticks and things like that are kept. Following her I prop my chin on her shoulder to look over it and see what she’s doing.

  “More chocolate?”

  “I like to add the powder, too. And a dash of cinnamon?” She thinks about it, then set the spice down. “No, too much maybe.”

  A couple gets up from a worn out couch that’s seen a ton of asses. We head for the thing and I take off my jacket so Meg can sit on it. She watches me with curiosity and I explain, “This thing isn’t good enough for you.” The smile in her eyes says everything so I grin, “Surprising you, huh?”

  “You are.”

  “I’ll keep that up.”

  She teases, “I hope so,” before sitting on my jacket and blowing steam a few inches off the cup.

  “Hold onto that thing,” I mutter as I plop down and groan at the comfort of sitting on a weathered couch. I’m not too good for this piece of shit. It’s just right for me. I kick my feet up and lean back, drinking my coffee with lips that can weather the heat.

  Meg turns to face me. “Tell me about The Ciphers.”

  Satisfied that all the noise of this place will drown out the secrets I’m about to tell, I launch right in, “Last month we stood vigil over a shelter for battered women in Omaha. We got word that the employees weren’t cut out for keeping the abusive men away. The men knew it and had banded together to ‘get back what was theirs.’ We showed up and kicked the shit out of a couple of creeps who’d sent their wives to hospitals. That spread to the other cowardly fucks and they backed off. We sat vigil there for a couple weeks. A couple guys are staying there until who knows how long. They’ll report back how it’s going and when it’s safe, they’ll return to their wives.”

  Like she’s in a trance Meg whispers, “I don’t know if it’s terrible or amazing.”

  “Terrible?”

  “That there are men who would do that in the first place,” she explains. “I can’t believe they banded together!”

  “Oh. Right. Yeah, it’s fuckin’ crazy. They’re cowards. We’re stronger than you women, physically. Can’t deny that. And they use that shit to force loyalty. But when another guy stands up to them and tells them to knock that shit off, they skulk into the shadows like the lowlifes they are. Or they come back with a gun. That’s the worst, when they’re armed. We’ve gotten really good at removing bullets from each other.”

  “You don’t use doctors?”

  I shake my head once, sucking on the inside of my teeth. “Nope. What we do isn’t legal. Can’t have the cops sniffing around.” Before she gets nervous, I tell her, “It should be legal, but it ain’t. We’re doing the right thing. Those women were in danger. And now they’re learning there are men who can be trusted. That they don’t have to be with a guy they’re afraid of. Ciphers watching over them, making sure they’re good, havin’ conversations with them when we don’t want nothin’ – that’s opening their minds up. Changing how they think. It’s another reason we left some on vigil, not just for show so those evil fucks would stay away. No, it was because Scratch – our V.P. who runs everything and got the first call about what was happening out there – he saw the terrified ladies were opening up a little. He decided we could do more good if we stuck around. Help them gain some trust and maybe a little self-respect. Then I headed here, since I wasn’t one of the guys chosen. I’m rougher than most of them.”

  Meg covers my hand with hers, clasping it. “You’re wonderful.”

  I don’t know what to say to compliments so I just squeeze her gentle fingers and drink my coffee.

  She sips from her cup, too, but her eyes are locked on me. Can’t say I mind. Every man wants to be a hero to his woman. In fact, that’s all he wants. Even if it’s just a smile for takin’ out the damn garbage. I didn’t have a woman, but anytime one of the ladies at the house thanked me for something I did, my whole fuckin’ day was made. That’s all it takes. A little appreciation and we’re goin’ nowhere.

  “Antonio, what I don’t understand is, how do you get these calls? Where is your home again?”

  “South Vacherie, Louisiana.”

  “And this shelter was in Omaha?”

  “Yup. When you help people, shit goes viral. Not on the Internet, but mouth to mouth. We get calls from all over the country because someone told their friend’s cousin’s babysitter’s dog about us, and that’s all it ever takes.”

  She smiles, “What kind of dog?”

  “Saint Bernard,” I smirk.

  When she laughs her blue eyes brighten to where I can barely look at her she’s so pretty. With a tug on her hand I beckon her to lean in for a kiss. She tastes like chocolate and beauty, and when she straightens up again, we stare for a few beats where we silently tell each other we wish we were alone.

  Meg

  “Why don’t you stay at my place tonight?” I murmur against his lips.

  “Done and done. Let’s get out of here.” He gives me a smirk loaded with sexual promises.

  We set our empty cups on the table. He drops a five on them and I raise my eyebrows. “You’re very generous.”

  “They need the money. I don’t.”

  His tone wasn’t boastful. It was simply frank and without apology. Of course it inspires new questions in my mind. There are so many things I want to learn. Their life sounds so exciting and different from my own. I like it here, but I have thought about leaving. I know everything about this town. Nothing is new, and the world is so big. I feel I’ve played life too safe. I have a routine that is nothing if not boring and stagnant, but I didn’t know that until now. He’s got me buzzing with a desire for more.

  As he shoves those muscles back into the confines of his leather jacket, I gently ask, “How do you get money?”

  “People donate as a thanks. We also take it from the fucks who didn’t deserve it, who got it by illegal means.” Off of my questioning expression, he explains, “Drug dealers have shitloads of cash lying around. When we put them in line, they don’t get to keep it. We use it to fund our efforts. And we spread it around, like you see me doing.”

  “You left the waiter at Cirino’s a huge tip, more than our bill. Do you do
that a lot?”

  He nods and rests his hand on the small of my back, guiding me out of Café Mekka. The icy air shocks my skin as we step into the night, sounds of the festival replacing those from inside.

  Lizzy was right.

  Everyone is out tonight.

  This is the busiest night we’ve had yet this year. I’m sure people from Truckee, Chicago Park, Colfax, Auburn, Grass Valley, Lake of the Pines, and even tiny Weimar, have all come to join the celebration. He and I are forced to move slowly and when I feel him stop I glance to his face to discover an odd look on it.

  “What is it?” I search to see what has him so enthralled. There’s a boy no more than eleven playing a violin, its case on the snow-covered sidewalk at his small feet. He plays as if he’s hiding behind it, the shyness apparent in how he won’t look at any passersby. My fingers lose blood from how hard Antonio is squeezing them.

  “He’s so talented, isn’t he?” I ask with a smile.

  Antonio didn’t seem to hear me. He has the most enigmatic look on his face until he mumbles something that moves me deeply. “He looks like a boy I knew as a kid. My best friend at one of the homes. He was their son. I was their project. He protected me.”

  As I watch him listen to the child playing as though he’s back in time, and seeing a hero he didn’t know he missed, a lump grows in my throat. “Are you still friends? Did you keep in touch?”

  “Nah,” he mutters. “His father was a mean son of a bitch. I was his punching bag. Luke never got touched, and he knew it so he’d jump in the way to stop the beatings. His dad never touched him. Sick fuck.”

  Up ahead a woman shouts, “Stop him! He stole my purse!” and Antonio comes to life, the memories washed away in an instant. “Stay here!” he growls, releasing my hand and taking off, weaving through people like someone trained to do it. I break into a run and follow him, muttering countless apologies as I bump into people.

  There’s a woman in her late sixties, panting and staring off, so I go to her. “Are you the woman who cried out?”

  She nods, shaken up. “Yes! That man went after him! Two bikers!”

  I don’t understand…two bikers?

  She points ahead but I can’t see Antonio anymore. She and I start walking fast, and then I leave her behind as I burst into a sprint, shouting, “Excuse me! Excuse me!!!”

  At the end of the street near the Christmas tree is a gang of nine dangerous men all wearing leather jackets with patches that read, “Lucifer’s Army.” One of them is waving a purse as horrified locals and tourists slowly gather to watch the gang circle Antonio.

  They all take turns taunting him.

  “Look at what we caught! A real honest-to-God Cipher!”

  Another sneers, “Took the bait like a good little pussy.”

  “Fuckin’ Ciphers. Giving the rest of us all a bad name.”

  “You make me sick!”

  “When we heard you were in town, and alone? Oh, man, we couldn’t believe our ears, man.”

  “Christmas miracles do exist, huh, Bubba?”

  The woman joins me and grabs my arm. “That’s my purse!”

  I nod, glued to the scene before me, every muscle in my body tense with fear.

  “Bubba?” Antonio snarls with an amused gleam. “That’s the best nickname you could come up with?”

  “What’s yours? Pansy?”

  Bending at the knees, Antonio growls, “Honey Badger.” He lunges and lands a punch on one of the bikers that knocks the guy out cold. The crowd gasps. As another rushes him from behind, Antonio kicks backward like some Karate master and sends the guy reeling. Two come at him and he dips out of the way and shoves them into each other. But there are too many of them and soon he is over powered. It gets worse and worse, them kicking and punching him, laughing the whole time.

  I start screaming, “Help him!”

  The woman shouts with me, “Help him! He tried to rescue my purse! Help him!!!”

  I see my Aunt Lizzy in the stunned audience, and shout her name. She snaps out of her trance and shouts around her, “Bob! Harry! Lewis! That’s Margaret’s man! He needs your help!”

  The waiter, off from his shift and all bundled up in a heavy coat and scarf, yells, “That guy gave me a hundred dollar tip! Come on! Help him!” He leaps into the chaos.

  That was the breaking point.

  Their fear is replaced by courage and rage.

  “Nobody bullies in our town!” Their shouts blend with their roars — men who’ve never fought in their whole lives. Fathers and sons all jump in and take down Lucifer’s Army until the intruders are all unconscious.

  I rush to Antonio. He’s out, too, a bloody mess. I touch his neck to see if he has a pulse and give a strangled cry, “Call an ambulance!” I lean down and stroke his head as I keep whispering, “I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.”

  A cacophony of voices is all around me. New people want to know what happened. Others are shouting to call the cops while more answer that it’s done, and they’re coming. The ambulance, too.

  The woman walks to me, hands shaking as she holds her recovered purse. “Is he going to be alright?”

  I start to cry and tell her, “He has to be. He just has to be!”

  Antonio

  I feel like a plane ran into my head. Fuck, man. Why can’t I open my left eye?

  Cracking my right one takes effort, but when I see my woman asleep in a hospital chair, I relax a little. “Meg,” I groan, everything hurting. I’ve got a cast on my left arm.

  She leaps up and rushes to my side. “You’re awake,” she whispers with a happy smile.

  Glancing around the room I try to understand what the hell I’m seeing. Everything is covered in tinsel, brightly wrapped presents, wreaths and poinsettia plants, garlands on the walls, door and hospital bed. “What’s all this? They stick me in someone else’s room?”

  Meg shakes her pretty head. “It’s for you. The people of Nevada City decorated it for you.”

  I blink at her, confused. “Why?”

  She tells me the story of what happened, and when she finishes, she asks, “You didn’t know they jumped in?”

  I must have been out by then. I gave it my best, but nine against one. What hurt most was knowing she was probably watching.

  “I knew I was losing. That’s all I knew.”

  “You weren’t losing, Antonio. You had friends. Yesterday people filled this room, and you remember that waiter? He told the whole restaurant and they sent food over for everyone to eat. But you didn’t wake up.” Tears are in her eyes as she struggles against happiness. “Until right now. I’m so happy to see you. How do you feel? Your eye will heal, but it’s swollen pretty badly.”

  “Good. I was wondering about my eye. I can’t open it,” I rasp, clasping her hand and moved by what the people did for me. “But I’m gonna be okay.” She kisses my fingers and beams at me. God, she just lights up a room.

  The door swings open. “Well, look who went and got himself beat the hell up!” Jett shouts with Luna in tow, both in Ciphers jackets, Sofia Sol in her mother’s arms.

  My one eye goes wide. “Jett? What the fuck you doin’ here?”

  “Meg stole your phone and called us,” he grins.

  Luna smirks, “Woman after my own heart.”

  Tonk and Carmen file in, carrying Celia and their new baby boy, as Tonk yells, “Woohooo!!! Look at your face, fucker! You look like shit!” Carmen shakes her head like she wishes this didn’t happen to me.

  Melodi and Fuse stroll in after them, with their son Taylor bounding in like he’s got a frog in his pants.

  Taller than everyone in the room, Fuse whistles long and low at the sight of me. “That’s gotta hurt.”

  Melodi says, “You leave us for one week and get into trouble. That’ll teach ya.” She looks at Meg and gives her the once over. “This her?”

  Grinning even though it hurts, I say, “This is my woman!”

  Jett grabs Meg and bear hugs her, lifting her
off her feet as she yelps in surprise. When he sets her down, Luna kisses her cheek and says, “This is my daughter, Sofia Sol.”

  “She’s beautiful,” Meg whispers, smiling at the grey-eyed little girl.

  Scratch’s deep Southern drawl shouts a deep, “Don’t start the party without us!” He guides Mona into my crowded room. I’m surrounded by my chosen family, and my chest feels like it might explode.

  Everyone gets introduced to Meg while I’m speechless. She shyly smiles at them with all her fingers tight around mine. I don’t blame her for being nervous.

  This is a badass bunch.

  I tug on her hand and she looks at me, her eyes softening as I ask, “You did this for me?”

  “Merry Christmas, Antonio,” she whispers, with tears in her eyes.

  Emotion wells up inside me as everyone goes quiet. “It’s Christmas today?”

  She nods and Jett grins beside her, “Christmas morning, yes sir!” He pulls out a flask and hands it to me. “Brought you some medicine.”

  I take it with the biggest smile I’ve ever had. I can’t even feel pain anymore. The faces of the people I love are staring at me, and they made this trip all the way across country to be here. This is the first time I’ve ever understood what this holiday is really about.

  Meg

  The cast on his left arm gave Antonio an excuse to stick around Nevada City after his club went home two days following Christmas.

  Before they left, Jett, Luna and their daughter stayed with us during their visit, in my parent’s old room, and I got a chance to know them a little.

  Jett has an amazing sense of humor, and he and Antonio mess with each other like they grew up together. When I told them that, they said that something happened right after they met Luna. They wouldn’t get into the specifics because it was private, but when she was in danger of going to jail, Honey Badger had made a choice which helped save her. That decision, and the loyalty that spawned it, had brought the two men much closer together and now they were best friends.