Cocky Secrets (Cocker Brothers #29)

3. Sage

THREE

Sage

I can’t sleep, tossing and turning for hours. It’s after two o’clock in the morning now, and I sigh and stare at nothing, not even at the beauty of my bedroom’s painted walls.

My room used to be Tonk Jr’s bedroom, years ago, before he went to New York City to study Family Counseling and Trauma Therapy, and never came back except for the major holidays, when we treasure him. I should go to New York someday. Visit him. I always said I would.

After he moved out, I made this room my own, not a sign of him left except for the fact that I kept his bed, left it in the same position, but painted it swathed in rose petals. The walls I covered with abstract Morning Glory vines, blue-purple flowers perpetually open displaying their magenta-lined star inside, just a dot of the palest yellow for each pollen center. In the corners of my room and around the door I painstakingly sketched in colors of clay Roman columns, more realistic, less abstract, as if I’m not in a small bedroom in Louisiana at all, but instead lounging in an outdoor patio from another time. The wall across from me features a city far below the mountain my imagination painted me onto. But the ceiling is my favorite. Half of it is forever daytime with fluffy clouds, a bright yellow and orange sun, seagulls scanning the territory for their next meal. The other half is forever night with a flood of stars keeping the new moon company.

And while it’s all lovely, it’s doing nothing tonight to calm me down and grant me the blessed sleep I long for.

Onto my side I turn once more, elbow bent, hand under my head, staring into a future where I’ll be painting a naked man I just met. Even with Viola’s sanctioning, it is dangerous of me to attempt it.

It’s so exciting.

Too exciting?

Maybe.

But I so rarely do anything dangerous. I guess, though, if Vi hadn’t vouched for him, I’d not be as excited as I am. I wouldn’t show up at all, in fact. I’d be smart.

But she did vouch.

He fought for a friend of Billy Mae’s in court. Hmmm. Protected her against whatever pain she’d gone through, and probably stopped it from happening again in so doing. I don’t want to — or need to — know the details of the wrongs done to that friend. I hear enough about horrifying things when The Ciphers discuss their missions. I can imagine, on my own what happened. But don’t wish to.

Instead I focus on the positive and smile to myself, thinking for the millionth time: Bear fought to protect someone.

And tomorrow I’ll paint him.

Wearing no clothes.

A hero without his armor.

Once more I glide my nail-bitten fingers over Bear’s careful scrawl, holding the beautiful notebook gift whose cover is embedded with a perfect oak tree. Either he wrote his name and address carefully, or he has perfect penmanship. Not usual for men, I have found. At least not with The Ciphers. They write like someone is chasing them.

The worst of them is Tonk Sr., Carmen’s husband. Despite being so tall and imposing, he writes like a child, which I’ve always believed is because he was raised in pain. His father was abusive, and beat him regularly. He didn’t find his own inner power until he met Carmen, back when he was the newest in the club. The Ciphers were on that horrible mission in California, way back when, breaking up a human trafficking ring. The impact of its secrets are still fresh in my mind even though they were revealed some years ago now, on the traumatic day when Celia found out where she came from, how she and Carmen were saved by Tonk Sr. That was the fateful day when Tonk Jr . found his calling. He was such a jewel, shining his light on the darkness revealed to us all until it dissipated into pure love.

And gratitude.

Bear. The “B” he wrote is beautiful. Bold and sweeping. Perfect penmanship. Strong. But no last name.

I gave him mine. Why did I do that? What if he looks me up?

He’d find nothing.

I’m not on a single social media platform. Never have I been. I only know about them from the news, and then from Tonk Jr. showing me what people are up to, out in the real world, once when he came to visit. I have no friends outside of our club. So why would I post what I’m doing to a platform where facts about myself, and my location, could be discovered?

If Bear looked me up, he’d find nothing .

Not even a birth certificate.

My brothers and I were born here at the plantation. So were Celia and her brother Tonk Jr., and of course Sofia Sol, the daughter of our President, Jett Cocker and his powerful wife, Luna.

And not just us, but all the little ones. Though I guess I can’t call Scythe and Denita’s kids, Shay and Mylar, little anymore.

Those of us past driving age have fake licenses. ‘Birth certificates’, if you can call them that, were done by hand to mark the day only. They are kept in a wooden box Jett keeps under a loose floorboard, never turned in to the United States government.

Doctors, paid, kept quiet.

Our current physician and surgeon, Dr. Durnell, tends to bullet and knife wounds here at the house, as well as healing any normal sicknesses any of us might have obtained which won’t go away on their own. All of our doctors throughout time have been paid under the table, paid well, for their entirely discreet house calls.

Dr. Durnell used to work at the local hospital, which is how we found him. He was its second best surgeon. The best one was too honest and by-the-book to bring into our world. A bit of research proved that to Jett who made the final call. So he and Luna, together, approached Dr. Durnell — a married couple less frightening than one buffed biker with salted blonde hair and eyes the color of a brewing storm. Dr. Durnell was persuaded to join us when he learned that The Ciphers help the innocent.

What am I doing?

Should I even go?

A cop can’t know these things.

Maybe I don’t need to worry about it. Bear has no reason to look me up, right? Because I’ll spend little time with him, just paint what I need to get down, leave, and do the rest at home. Yes…that’s the smart way. But how will I get the canvas back here? How will I hide that I’m painting a man’s naked body? It’s not like I can plant my 20” x 30” canvas in the corner of the sitting room, where I normally sit cross-legged and paint my little heart out. Not with this piece…if I could get it home.

Wait?

Is that the sound of…

I sit up like a shot, throw off my covers and race out of the room, “Dad’s home!” my glance darting upstairs to see Mom cracking her door open as she ties her robe closed.

She calls down, “So I hear,” with a huge, relieved smile.

In my yellow pajama pants and matching halter, I flash through the vast foyer, out our front door, across the worn wood porch, and down steps so weathered they dip from time’s traffic.

Jett and Luna Cocker lead the club, the rumble of their motorcycles louder by the second. Tonk Sr., Carmen on the back of his cruiser, come next. Scythe behind them. His twin girls, newly eighteen, Shay and Mylar, are on either side of their dad. I can’t wait to hear how their first mission went!

Sofia Sol, Luke, Atlas, Sean, Celia, ride toward the planation next in staggered formation, each on their own ride. Everyone in the club rides Harley Davidsons save for Soph mounted on her precious, green Triumph II, a replacement after her first was run into the ground.

I look for him and grin because driving up last, guarding the group as its powerful caboose, is the wildest of them all. The most dangerous. The most unpredictable. My father.

I race down, barefoot, not giving a hoot about biting gravel and spraying dirt. “Dad! Daddy! Dad! You’re home!”

Everyone heads for the garage in the order they rode in and when my brothers pass my right and left, they’re laughing.

“What about us?” Luke smirks.

Atlas shouts, “Never any love for your brothers!”

I stick my tongue out at Luke, give Atlas the finger, and keep right on running, red hair flying. “Daddy!!!”

He’s the only one who stops here, rather than driving all the way to their huge garage. On our driveway flanked by oak trees whose leaves are painted in silvery glitter by the moon, Dad holds his Harley up with his motorcycle boots planted firmly, arms wide. I get my big, dusty hug, and give one right back, before pulling away to inspect his Cipher’s jacket for new bullet holes, the old one patched over by Melody and Mom almost six months ago. “You’re okay! You’re safe.” I grin, “You’re home!”

Not much of a talker he grunts, “Yep,” walnut eyes fixating on Mom’s approach. “Meg!”

She beams, “Antonio!” running down the steps, Mom never calls him Honey Badger , and is the only one who calls Dad by his birth-given name.

I kiss his cheek in goodbye and step aside, running my hand through my hair as I watch Mom race to welcome home her mate for life. As usual, they kiss like I’m not watching, and my happy laugh almost goes unnoticed as I head for the house, saying over my shoulder, “You’d think it was years and not one week since you saw each other!”

I hear Mom murmur, “A week is too long,” before I leave them to their sexy reunion. What must it be like to still adore someone after…how long have they been together? I’m almost thirty. Luke is five years older than I am. So they’ve been together at least thirty-six years! And she always worries when he’s gone, like I do.

Waiting for the others to park their bikes, I take long breaths to exhale my stress away, so relieved they all came back unharmed. Dad tried to retire years ago, but it didn’t stick. Turns out a Cipher needs to be a Cipher until they can’t be one anymore. Further along in his existence though Dad might be, he’s in great shape from training. As they all are. No signs of needing to retire, his strong health, lust for life and for the work they do, combined, keep him younger than his years.

The Ciphers have such exciting lives. Can they blame me if I’m trying to make mine just a teensy bit more exciting than the boredom I’ve been living in?

Sofia Sol and Celia walk back from the garage first, their long dark hair shining blue-black thanks to moonlight.

I bounce over to walk with them. “Everyone is safe!”

Soph shrugs, “It was an easy mission. Perfect for training Shay and Mylar. Anything exciting happen while we were away?”

I met a stunningly handsome police officer I’m going to paint in the nude tomorrow, if I can find a way to sneak away without being noticed. “Nope. Nothing.”

We stop at the bottom of the stairs. “We didn’t hear anything from Alice,” Soph presses. “Little ones alright?”

Oops, I was supposed to check on how Kenzie, Malakai and Jack are doing with Alice, our neighbor who watches them. I’ve never been good with kids. I get too distracted, and they get into trouble. Mom’s older now, and with Malakai being such a little jerk, it was decided that they would be better off with Alice, who used to run a preschool. She has no idea what The Ciphers do. She thinks they just ride their motorcycles around the states for fun. Nice lady, bless her patience.

“Alice calls if she needs help.”

Soph snorts. “I told you to check.”

“You’re so bad.” Celia rolls her eyes.

“You know kids aren’t my thing.” I lean down to pick a rock from my heel. “You guys chose to have them. I didn’t. She’d have called if there was something she couldn’t handle.”

Sean strolls up, tying up his chestnut-brown man-bun to stave off helmet hair. “How’s Jack?”

Celia answers, “Sage didn’t check!”

I groan, “They’re fine!” glancing over to see everyone leaving the garage. Shay and Mylar look far from excited. “Are they joining you guys? Are they going to be Ciphers?”

Soph keeps her voice low, underneath the cicadas who are breaking into song now that the motorcycles are quiet and gone. “I don’t know if they were bored because it was easy, or if they just don’t get it.”

Celia mutters, “I predict college for Shay and Mylar. We’ll see.”

I shake my head, “College, huh?” wondering if the predication will come true. I know that Shay has been hoping to learn more about the world, and Mylar goes wherever Shay goes. The Ciphers do travel, but what they see of the world isn’t its brighter side. I wonder if that’ll satisfy Shay’s longings, or if history classes in person among people their own age, is what will come to be.

Sean rests his hand on the small of Celia’s back. “We all have to find our own path.”

He should know.

His led him here.

But here isn’t for everyone.

My rebellious brother calls out to me on his approach, long black hair flying free. “Anything new happen while we were gone?”

“What do you think, Atlas?” I toss back.

He laughs to Luke, “Sage is such a little shit.”

From a good distance behind, Luke unbraids his long black hair, oil on his dark jeans shimmering in the moonlight from whatever he was doing with his hog that took him longer to come out of the garage.

“Missed you, Sis,” Luke says, and I wait to receive a kiss on the top of my head.

My brothers are both handsome, but while Atlas is more dangerous-looking, Luke is beautiful. Not just on the outside. He’s always had a softer, quieter, inner self-reliance, a quality that almost cost him his happiness with Sofia Sol.

I didn’t get their height.

Nor hair color.

And my eyes are dusty blue like Mom’s. I look a lot like her, actually, red hair, same nose and mouth, except for my skin is golden brown where hers is of the palest pink.

“Missed you, too,” I tell Luke, and stick my tongue out at Atlas. “Not you, though, stinker .”

He winks at me. “Yeah you did.”

He’s right, but I won’t tell him that.

I missed them all.

I always do.

It’s sad when the house goes quiet after the roar of motorcycles fades away. I much prefer the way its volume increases every time I hear them come home. Much, much prefer that rumbling sound of happiness that builds into a cacophony of engines so loud I feel it in my bones.

“Melody’s gone, still, but…we have sandwiches!”

Soph grunts disappointment, and one by one voices multiply until the final Cipher has walked back inside, where they, where we , belong.

Home crazy home.