Cocky Rockstar: Gabriel Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 10) Page 2

  “It’s the other way around, Maggie,” I smirk, jumping up. She chases me around the loft but I dodge her like a pro. “Had lots of practice with my sister! She’s way taller than you are. You’re playing a losing game, Mags!”

  Growing bored I toss it to her. She doesn’t catch it and the thing shatters. “No! You bastard! I just bought that!”

  Heading to my fridge I say over my shoulder, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  Delicately patting down the fragments of her screen as if it’ll do anything other than cut her fingers, Maggie follows me. “Why can’t he be there?”

  “He has a hot date.” Off her look I dryly mutter, “And it’s a guy.” We stare at each other as I pop open an ice-cold beer and take a swig.

  “It’s the President isn’t it?”

  “Just drop it.”

  A mass of dark curls bobble as she shakes her head. “You’ve got that date coming up, too.”

  Leaning against my granite counter I hold the bottle to my lips and tell her, “I don’t date, Mags, you know that.”

  “The contest you forgetful piece of fluff.”

  I snort and feel the burn of beer in the back of my damn nostrils as she grabs her purse to leave. “You made me spit out of my nose. Why do I keep you around when you talk to me like that?”

  Gingerly holding her mangled addiction as her purse strap threatens to bend her forearm in half, Maggie reaches for the doorknob. “Because you like the abuse? And no other publicist is as good as I am? Either one works. Your date is this Thursday, that’s two days from now. Since I know you won’t choose a restaurant on your own or actually show up unless I make you, I’ve already reserved the best table at Rays on The River, and a car will arrive here at 7:30 P.M sharp to drag you there.”

  “Will I even be awake by then?” I dryly ask her.

  She cocks her head. “Elijah got you in a mood didn’t he.”

  “No shit.”

  “Try to be nice to the poor girl, bless her innocent fangirl heart.”

  My shoulders slump as I push off the counter and head for my couch. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. You didn’t set me up with a virgin, did you?”

  “Oh my God!” Maggie explodes. “First of all, I’m your publicist, not your pimp! Second, you should be a gentleman and not even care!” We stare at each other until she starts smiling. “Right, there are no gentlemen present, what was I thinking?”

  “Unless you look in the mirror, muff-diver.”

  “I resemble that remark.”

  “When are you going to let me watch, Mags? You and Carrie scissoring like little kitties in a pile of catnip, I want in.” I take a slug of beer as she cracks up. I barely break a smile because I’m too practiced at breaking someone’s balls, male or female. You’re not a member of my family if you can’t take it as good as you get it. Besides, I’m still pissed at Elijah.

  “Gabriel!” she groans through laughter. “If I had known working for you would have been like this!”

  “You would have begged to work for me when you were still accepting cock for supper?”

  Her lips go tight in an effort to maintain severity. It’s not working. “You would have been my last man ever. Because trust me, I would have given up the dong after being with a dick like you.”

  I lazily smirk, “You’ve never been with a Cocker.”

  “Every man says that. That’s the number one thing lesbians hear from men we don’t want to fuck – if only you had my dick you wouldn’t want pussy. So you’re not original. I’ll see you later. I’m going to get a replacement for this phone. And I’m putting it on your bill!”

  “Never doubted that for a second.”

  “You need to get laid.”

  “Got some last night.”

  Cocking an eyebrow she walks out the door. “You need to get laid right.” Holding up her hand she shouts, “I get the last word this time!”

  Right before it shuts, I mutter, “Word.”

  She opens it. “I heard that!”

  “Word.”

  Maggie growls and vanishes, which is technically not using actual language.

  So I got the last word.

  PAIGE

  “I thought maybe this time you weren’t coming back.”

  Bobby won’t meet my eyes as he shrugs his jacket off. “Why wouldn’t I come home?”

  I shove my hands into the deep pockets of my favorite baggy sweatpants, my loose tank top billowing from the wind as he shuts the front door. “Another storm?”

  “Yeah.”

  I wait for him to say more. It’s a fool’s hope.

  As he kicks off his shoes I ask, “Three days ago I woke up thinking you were at the house-painting job, until he called and asked why you never showed up. What do you want me to do here, Bobby? ”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh come on, I’m not dumb. Please look at me.”

  His guilt stays fixed on the floor as he whispers, “Paige.”

  I go to him and cup his face in my hands. “What were you thinking?”

  Tears liquefy his sweet brown eyes, lashes fluttering with shame. “I was up two thousand and then it was gone.”

  “It’s always gone! Rent is due on Monday and we’re already one month behind. Why did you do this to us?”

  He holds my hands on his cheeks, voice hoarse, breath reeking of cigarettes. “If I won big I could have paid you back.”

  Oh my God, you’re just like Mom.

  Of course it was a noble idea that drove him to take the meager amount of pay he’d saved up and throw it down the pit called a poker table. That’s what breaks my heart even more. I covered his rent for the last four months. But my savings has been bled dry now. We had to shut off cable and Wi-Fi already. Electricity bills are bi-monthly so we have a little more time. Not that it will matter when we got evicted. Don’t need the lights if nobody is here to turn them on.

  We grew up under the shadow of this disease until our mother found Gamblers Anonymous. When he showed signs he had it, too, Mom and Dad held him up for a while. But then they washed their hands of Bobby.

  I couldn’t do that.

  I just couldn’t.

  When my brother’s gambling finally made him homeless, I asked my then-roommate to move out.

  I have to take care of my brother.

  You’re enabling him, Paige! Don’t you see he’s an addict?

  I’m all he has.

  But I never wanted to be homeless with him.

  “Bobby! We could have begged the landlord for a little more time if we had most of this month’s rent at least! And you could have asked that contractor if he had more work. But you didn’t show up. I begged him to give you another chance and he said no! Why do you keep doing this?”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  I whisper, “I know,” staring at the ground.

  He covers his beautiful face, groaning through trembling fingers, “I was up two thousand! It was incredible.” He drops his hands, glee shining from his eyes. “I wish you could have seen it! I thought my time had come.”

  Childhood memories sting my eyes as I stare at my brother.

  Defeated I ask him, “Are you tired?”

  “Exhausted.”

  “Why don’t you get some sleep...?”

  He nods and shuffles to his bedroom as I flop onto this stupid old couch and bring my knees to my chest. What am I going to do? Our landlord is the biggest snob, an elitist bastard who inherited six wonderful apartment buildings from his much-kinder father who passed away last winter. Old Fourth Ward is too cool a neighborhood to not pay your rent in. He’s looking for any reason to get rid of us so he can get new people in here at twice the price. People who can actually pay him. He gave us until Monday and made it clear that he will slam a Notice To Evict letter on our door for the world to see if the cash isn’t in his insatiable palm by midnight.

  We have no place to go. Shelby lives with her boyfriend in a one-bedroom. My boss, Jordanna, has
seven cats that would send my allergies to the hospital after one night. I can’t live with Mom and Dad again. The dysfunction in that co-dependent household would have me slitting my wrists, especially when I know they’d never let my brother come with me.

  “Paige?” Bobby tentatively whispers, afraid to come into the living room.

  I lift my head and wipe my eyes. “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to get a job. A real one. Not just painting houses for some asshole. I’ll pay you back.”

  The hope in his eyes kills me.

  “That’d be great.”

  He smiles and opens his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

  Rising to let him fold into me I whisper in his hair. “I’ll think of something.”

  PAIGE

  The thing about a cheap phone is my silencing feature died months ago. Groaning, I reach for the nightstand and smack my hand around until I locate the vibrating annoyance. Don’t even check who’s calling.

  Just yank it to my ear and grumble, “Hello?”

  In a hushed voice Shelby says, “Tell me you’re not sleeping!”

  “I’m not anymore!” I sigh, rolling onto my back with my eyes still closed. “I thought your car got fixed. Is it still in the shop?”

  “I’m not calling for a ride. It’s five minutes to seven and your class is sitting in there on their mats, stretching like you’re going to walk in at any minute.”

  Jackknifing up, I scream, “No! Oh my God!”

  “I’m kidding,” she dryly says. “No, I’m not! I’m dead fucking serious. Get your ass down here because I’ve been telling Jordanna you’re on your way.”

  I shout while yanking yoga pants up my groggy legs, “Of course she picks today to show up and check on us. Oh my God, Shelby! It’ll take me at least fifteen minutes to get from here to there!”

  My brother cracks the door open while covering his eyes. “Not if you blast through all the reds.”

  “Bobby! I’m not dressed. Oh, you can’t see me. Hang on!” I tug my sports bra into place and grab my mesh tank top and flip-flops. “Okay you can look.” Into the phone I tell Shelby, “Bobby is going to drive me and it’s not gonna be the legal way!!!”

  “Hurry!” she hisses before hanging up.

  Bobby and I race through the apartment, bursting out the door without bothering to lock it. “If we get robbed, what are they going to take?” I joke as we nearly crash into old Mr. Parker coming out of his apartment for the morning paper.

  “Watch it!”

  “Sorry, Mr. P!” Bobby calls over his shoulder. “She’s late for work!”

  “Oh, it’s you two!” he mutters. “Well go on!”

  We jump the final steps, land on the pavement and dash for my car, leaping into the Honda with Bobby behind the wheel. He tears out of the parking space leaving tire marks as evidence. I’m gripping the oh-shit-handle, swaying as he whips onto Piedmont slicing in and out of traffic. Honking with his muscles wired tightly he ignores red light after light, shouting out the open windows, “Out of the way! Comin’ through!”

  Under my breath I give a strained laugh. “This is terrifying, but thank you.”

  “I’m the reason you slept late.” He turns the wheel and narrowly avoids an old truck going forty in a thirty mile-per-hour zone. The guy honks at us. Bobby gives him the finger. More honking ensues and the guy floors it. Now we’re in a chase with this asshole practically grazing the right side of my car. The only one we have. I roll my window down to nicely tell the guy I’m late for work, it’s not personal.

  My brother shouts, “Hey fuckhead! Your mother sucked my cock last night! And she wasn’t good!”

  “Bobby!” I cry out, head swinging toward him.

  I sway as the guy pushes his car into us on purpose.

  My old Honda hits the middle divider.

  It bounces back into our lane and crashes into the truck.

  Both vehicles go spinning right.

  Traffic screeches behind us.

  Eight other cars hit each other.

  Horns explode in the morning air.

  I grab the dashboard. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

  Bobby mutters, “What a fucking asshole.”

  My mouth drops open as I stare at him. His eyes lock onto something behind me. I turn around and see the truck’s door is open and the guy is heading for us, crooking his finger at Bobby to get out and fight. The guy is gorgeous, dressed in faded blue jeans and worn-down boots, so tall I have to crane to look up at him as he gets closer.

  There’s no way I’m letting him near my brother.

  Clawing the door open I leap out. “You could have killed me! You didn’t care that there was a woman in this seat?”

  Emerald green eyes narrow on me as he tilts his head in anger. “I barely nicked you. Cut the drama.”

  Motioning to the honking cars and police sirens getting louder by the second, I shout, “Oh you mean this drama that you created, you evil giant?!”

  Bobby is ready to fight, but he’s only five-seven and scrawny, so this match isn’t even.

  I jump between their male egos. “No! I will not allow this!”

  The gorgeous giant says, “Nobody talks about my mother like that, you piece of shit!”

  I push him in the chest. “And nobody talks to my brother like that, you big animal!”

  Bobby growls, “Paige, stay out of this.”

  Sirens roar to a deafening level and a horn speaker thingy blasts with the policeman’s voice. “Step back and throw your hands up! Everybody on the ground!”

  I yank Bobby’s arm. “Come on!”

  “No fuckin’ way.”

  “You have to make this right. I can’t lose my job, get evicted, and get you out of jail in the same week!”

  His nostrils flare as he fights his inner demons. He nods and we both go to our knees.

  The giant was watching us from the corners of his eyes. He hesitates and joins us.

  There are now three police cars at the pileup.

  Like he has cantaloupes for balls, the first cop saunters up.

  “Ben Cocker, that you?” he asks.

  Giant guy smirks at him. “You just want to see me on my knees, don’t you, Timothy?”

  “Your Senator relative going to bail you out this time, too?”

  “You going to call him?”

  The cop smirks and motions for us to rise. “Alright, on your feet.”

  He looks at my brother in a weird way.

  My heart is pounding. I’m barely able to focus. I glance over to find Bobby is glaring at the cop.

  So I start talking. “Listen, Officer…”

  Giant guy cuts me off. “It was my fault, Tim. I was texting and didn’t realize the wheel veered left. I ran into them. They bounced off the medium. We all turned to avoid each other but we were too close and smashed sides again on the way back. That pileup behind us, they were just trying to get out of the damn way. It was an honest mistake.”

  The cop eyes him. “Why should I believe a word you say, Ben? The amount of shit your family gets away with I should take you in just to watch you get out of it. I need the entertainment.” He glances to me. “That true what he said?”

  “Uh…”

  Bobby coughs for attention and answers for me, “Totally true. We were just trying to get my sister to work. She’s late for work.”

  I mutter, with my gaze dropping at the reminder, “Very late and probably fired.”

  Giant runs a hand through his sandy-brown hair and asks from under his eyebrows, “Why would I lie? You know the fine you’re going to slap me with, the ding on my record. Hiked insurance. You really think I’d pay that price to help these guys? Complete strangers?”

  I glance over wondering what the hell he’s doing.

  First he’s reacting to my brother cussing by ramming into us, and now he’s personally taking the blame? Sure he’s lying, but still.

  Why the switch?

  Officer Tim has a chip on both shoulders wher
e the giant is concerned. They go way back in a bad way. He grumbles, staring into the sun, “Well, I can’t take you into the station on an accidental accident.”

  Bobby and I exchange a look at the redundancy. Just one accident would have been fine. I mean, that’s the definition of the word.

  Clicking his tongue as he considers what to do, Officer Timothy finally says, “But I will give you that fine so get ready for an insurance premium hike that will wipe that fuckin’ smirk right off your face, Ben!” He heads back to his car. “You just wait right there!”

  “I’m fired. This is it. No job. No house. Nothing.”

  “It’s my fault,” Bobby groans, under his breath. “If I hadn’t gambled that money away.”

  “Just stop it. What’s done is done.” I grab his hand and turn to look down the street. “We’re so close though. I can’t believe this.”

  Bobby calls to the cop. “Can we leave? I think the car still runs. I need to get her to Om This Yoga, and it’s only three blocks up.”

  Officer Tim shakes his head, slowly reaching into his car for the pad of tickets.

  “Fuckin’ prick,” Bobby mutters.

  Giant mutters back, “Just hang tight. It’ll only get worse if you fight this guy, trust me.”

  I glance between them. “Now you get along!?”

  It takes an eternity to give our information. He stops writing twice and saunters off to the other policemen as they write down first hand accounts from the pile-up people. He does this on purpose, just to mess with this Ben guy, which makes me want to tear the cop’s smug mustache right off.

  After we’ve finally been dismissed to my newly dented car, Officer Timothy yells, “No speeding now! I will pull you over!”

  Turning on the ignition Bobby mutters to me, “Let me hit him.”

  Ignoring him I lock eyes with our assailant.

  As he goes to get in his truck, Ben tips his head like he’s got a cowboy hat on. He doesn’t.

  I point at him and mouth, “This is your fault.”

  PAIGE