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Sean aka Diesel (Cocker Brothers Book 14) Page 4
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My dad nods, “He’s not an evil fuck. He’d have lit into Celia. But he hesitated.”
Luna agrees, “That’s what I thought, too. Had he attacked her without that pause, we wouldn’t want him here. He needs to start with humanity. We can train him when to use it.”
Jett glances to Honey Badger. “He handled your boy pretty well.”
“Atlas was guiding him.”
“You know what I mean.”
“He did okay.”
Luna rolls her eyes, “When are you two going to get past this?”
“When my boy comes home,” Honey Badger growls on his way into the house.
Jett shouts, “You were part of the decision to give them space!”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t hate it!”
Atlas surprises us by raising his voice against his father. “Stop making Jett pay for it then!” All heads turn to him. The Badger’s eyes go red, but Atlas holds his own. “It was my fault. It wasn’t Jett’s. He’s your best friend. I shouldn’t have said anything. There! It’s out! I fucked up.” He storms off toward the garage, “Shouldn’t have done what I did to Luke. It was a mistake.”
Sage is staring after him.
Tonk Jr., our resident philosopher and my weird brother, announces, “Hard for a man with that much testosterone to admit when he’s wrong. Takes a great deal of courage, and commitment to a better life.”
We stare at him in silence until Honey Badger heads after Atlas. “I’m gonna go talk to my boy!”
Jett’s barely holding it together. In an attempt to calm him, Luna strokes his chest. “Give him some space to come around.”
“I’ll give him all of Louisiana, Tennessee and Timbuktu! I’m gonna take a shower.” Passing me he grabs my forearm. “Great work, Celia. I’m gonna send you on more jobs like Sofia Sol promised. You did good.”
Staring after him, my chest swells with pride. “Thank you!”
“You earned it,” he mutters, swinging the old screen door so wide that when it shuts it’s a thunderclap.
As everyone heads inside, Mom drags my father over. “Tonk, tell Celia!”
“No, Carmen, baby. We talked about this.”
Luna hangs back a second, wondering if she should intervene. She’s the only Cipher mom who goes on missions. Her and her daughter, Sofia Sol, are fierce. Equally as dangerous as the men. I’m the third and last woman who fights from the Louisiana house, and it’s a known thing that I don’t have what they have. There’s a softness in me I get from my mother, Carmen Lewis, who is one of the kindest, gentlest souls to ever walk on Earth. I tend to worry, have too much empathy, and voice it. But that’s over now. I proved myself on a mission recently, showed them I can handle anything that comes my way. Always could have, just didn’t seem like it.
And I’ll be damned if my mother will take that win away from me.
“Why are you trying to stop me, Mom? With three women we’re the highest number any of the houses has in female fighters. That means something. There are no trained women in the Brazil House. All wives, mothers and daughters!”
My brother hovers nearby, and we lock eyes. He gives me a nod that he’s with me. I blink away, the complicated layers of our relationship too much for me right now. I just want my mother to get out of my way.
Dad pleads with her. “Carmen, what are you worried about?” The guy is as wrapped around her pinky as Mom is around his. He just wants her happy, but I’m the child who can follow in his footsteps—not my brother. He’s proud of me. “I’ve been going on missions our entire marriage and you never had a problem!”
“Celia’s different. Luna, help me!”
But Luna Cocker crosses her arms. “I’m sorry, Carmen, but Celia is right. There is a deficit of women who do what we can do, and we are needed. There are some missions only we can go on, to be most effective. Our men are too obvious and sometimes that’s a detriment. We can blend in. That’s valuable. And Celia has proven herself. To leave her at home is illogical when there are so many innocent people she could help.”
Tonk Jr. runs a hand through his dark hair, struggling to stay quiet. “Mom, if you’re worried about her getting hurt, don’t be. It’s not like she’s me. Celia can handle it.”
My mother cries out in hysterics, “That’s not what I’m worried about! I don’t want her to like it too much!” Turning to Luna she bends her body to convey what words can’t. Some sort of charades-communication attempted in the hopes that her best friend will understand and back her up.
Luna’s eyes darken with confusion. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
Mom rushes inside the house, Dad on her heels. “Carmen baby, hold up. Don’t be so upset!”
We stare after them, and I throw out my arm in exasperation, “What is going on with her?!”
“I don’t know,” Luna sighs.
“It’s killing me fighting with her about this. Why is she suddenly freaking out?” Turning to Luna for help I search for reasons, “Maybe it’s the empty-nest thing? But I’m right here! I don’t understand why this is making her hysterical. Have you ever seen her like this?”
Long eyelashes flicker. “Umm.”
Seeing I hit home, I dig, “What happened? Was it about a mission?”
She slowly shakes her head. “It was a long time ago, Celia. You should get something to eat.”
Tonk Jr. asks point blank, “What was she trying to tell you that we couldn’t know? Mom was trying to explain something without saying it aloud.”
“I said I don’t know, so I don’t.”
His lips go tight, and he gives her a nod. “Sorry.”
“I’ll go talk to her.” Luna heads inside.
Alone now I lock eyes with my brother. “What. The. Fuck.”
“We’re not supposed to know everything.”
“That’s really helpful.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Look at my face.”
“Oh. So then yes.” He shoves his hands in his khakis, leaves me standing here alone with my questions.
CHAPTER 7
SEAN
Wiping the steam from the antique mirror with my hand, I stretch my jaw out and inspect the cuts in my cheek, my lip, my nose, my forehead. Smiling I give the faucet a sharp twist and splash cold water on the wounds, a useless effort to stop the bleeding.
These people are everything I thought they were.
I wanted them to be exceptional.
They are.
Now that I know it’s a reality, my desire to become a Cipher has multiplied by a million. What if they don’t want me after I got my ass kicked so badly? I tried to keep up. With everyone watching, the pressure was obscene.
Under my breath I ask my reflection, “What now?”
Drying off my aching body, I don’t treat it gingerly. Not gonna allow myself to get soft. I rub the towel over my pecs, thighs, calves, as if I’ve got no bruises. Won’t even wince. Grabbing my cock I stare at my reflection and tell myself, “You want this, then you better push yourself.”
Wrapping the towel around my waist I snatch my dirty clothes from the floor and leave the steam-filled room for the cooler hallway. Muffled female voices slow my steps. But I recognize who’s talking—it’s Celia’s mom and Jett’s hot wife.
“Carmen, calm down, I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
“What if she turns bad?”
“You need to explain. You can’t just keep rocking and saying the same thing! What do you mean by bad? Why on Earth would Celia turn bad?”
“Because of her father, God knows which one!”
A man’s voice comes through the door, irate and hurried. “I’m her father!”
“No, you’re not! And I love you for saying you are. You know I do Tonk, but bad men did that to me. Celia has bad blood in her! What if she turns bad?”
My spine straightens in an instant. Holy fuck, I’m not supposed to be hearing this. It has to be old history they’re trying to put b
ehind them. In a hurry I make it back to Atlas’s room, quietly shut the door, put my back against it and breathe again.
Wow, I mean wow! From what I heard I can deduce what happened. Carmen was gang raped and Tonk stepped in to father the child. Probably found her on one of their missions? That has to be it! Celia’s had the good fortune of being raised in a household that doesn’t shame her for something that wasn’t her fault. This family—some blood, some not—is even better than I imagined. That Tonk would do that means I will look at him from now on with greater respect. I wince at the image this realization has thrown into my head. Celia…
I make a promise to myself that I won’t bring it up, no matter what. It’s gotta be a sore spot for Celia. Nobody needs that kind of reminder of where they come from, when they just want to live a life.
My throat closes as I yank some jeans on, a shirt, tug my sneakers over the bruised toes and tie the laces. As I walk into the kitchen, TV room to my right and not separated by a wall, the Ciphers pause filling their plates around an industrial-sized kitchen island. Jett’s missing. Atlas and Honey Badger, too. And of course the people from that overheard conversation upstairs aren’t here either.
Scythe jogs his chin, “You’re bleeding, son,”
I drag a hand through my wet hair and shrug. “So?”
Group laughter as Celia hands me an empty plate, smiling, “We do it buffet style so help yourself to lunch.”
“Thanks.” I stare at her with the knowledge of how she came into this world. How is it someone so beautiful could be born of something so wrong?
“You ready to have your tastebuds blown?” she asks. “Melodi’s an amazing cook. Could have won contests in any fair around if we decided to share her. We don’t share.”
From a faraway place I nod, “Yeah, cool.”
She holds my look a second, cocks her head at my expression, but lets it go, calling to Melodi, “If we feed him we might not be able to get rid of him, Mel.”
Luna and Tonk walk in, Carmen absent.
Fuse motions to a dish. “Sean, grab some of these fried crawfish. Ever have ‘em?”
“Nope. Can’t wait.”
He indicates for the line to make room for me to cut in with him. I pile my plate out of respect to his having included me. The guy is big and burly. Silver hair and skin leathery from riding a bike across America and beyond. He was introduced as one of Jett’s crew, Melodi’s husband. “You ever meet a motorcycle club before?” he asks while others stop their conversations to listen.
“Some have traveled through Sedona, but I’ve never had the honor, no.”
He eyes me. “We hear you’re a renegade.”
I cock an eyebrow as I load up my plate. “I don’t think the people of Arizona would agree.”
“Normal people don’t know how to label people like us. So they opt for the easiest title: trouble.”
Several people laugh. I lock eyes with Celia. “Maybe people need to open their minds.”
Her eyes narrow and she nods as Fuse agrees, “Damn straight. Nobody wants to change. They fight it out of fear.”
Luna smirks, “Then call us when fear changes to terror and they need somebody’s help.”
Scythe agrees, “Even though most wouldn’t invite us to dinner—they sure call us when they need help, don’t they?”
Denita piles some unwanted vegetables onto her twin daughter’s plate, muttering, “Sounds like the cops, doesn’t it?”
Everyone exchanges glances.
Celia’s brother says in his calm and meditative voice, “Human beings put police officers down, but most pray to God they show up when they’re called.”
It’s an odd thing to admit for a group of outlaws so they change the subject fast.
I head to the windowsill behind their old couch, a huge sectional flanked by reclining armchairs, and a couple smaller wooden chairs outside those. This room is furnished more modernly, but it’s lived in. Nothing is new. From the bright colors they probably bought this stuff way back in the 1980’s.
As the Ciphers sit and eat, they talk easily about the current state of affairs in our country, the local news stories, where they can help. Eventually Jett reappears, white-blonde hair wet from the shower. He scans the room locks onto me, and says in a loud voice that demands attention, “You did good today.”
My fork hovers in front of my open mouth, and this food is so good it’s a miracle I’m able to pace myself. Guarded, I say, “Thank you, sir.”
Everyone is frozen as he nods, heads for the kitchen on a casual, “You’re going to stay and train. That doesn’t mean you’re one of us. There will be a vote when your training is over.” From over the platter of sweet potatoes he eyes me. “So don’t get too comfortable.”
“I won’t let you down, sir.”
As he lifts the serving spoon he says, “We’ll see about that. How’re those cuts? Looks like you’re still bleeding.”
“No big deal.”
“Good. You start training this afternoon.”
“That’s great news.”
He chuckles, “Wait until you get out there. I’m starving.” As he shovels food onto his plate he shoots a quick glance around. “Where’s my bride?”
“Here Jett,” Luna purrs as she walks in behind him, slides her arms around his back. Everyone goes back to talking about the world’s problems, but it takes me a second to look away from the couple as they kiss like nobody is here. That kind of open affection I haven’t experienced in a home environment since I was a little kid. My dad was that affectionate with my mom. They used to cuddle and kiss all the time. Forgot about that until now.
Glancing to Celia I see her watching me, wondering if I’m shocked by their unabashed sexuality. I hold her look until her expression changes to confusion. She glances down to her plate and concentrates on eating.
CHAPTER 8
C ELIA
So strange having a newbie here. To know he’s judging everything we do. Like we’re judging him. I guess it’s mutual.
The air in the house is stilted. Even the conversation today is hyped up. We talk about all kinds of stupid shit just like everybody, but right now the Ciphers are trying to impress our potential recruit by acting like they’re planning their next attack to save mankind. They’re puffed up, watchful of him to make sure he knows they’re fierce. It’s like you stuck a grizzly in a lion’s den and the cats want to make sure the bear doesn’t underestimate them.
Sean’s interesting, I’ll give him that. He doesn’t wear his fear on his sleeve. Can’t tell if he’s nervous. Sure, those sapphires are sharp, interested, focused in a heightened way, but his shoulders aren’t tense.
The calm stare he gave me just now was…disarming.
My glance gets stolen by the back door as it swings open. Atlas precedes his father, both heading for the food as Jett walks away, holding Luna’s hand, plate full. Honey Badger nods to him, and receives one in return. A collective awkwardness drifts over the conversations as we attempt to act normal, but we’re watching them, too. I tell Sage something about climate change and she nods like she heard me when she didn’t. And who cares what I said, because I made it up.
Luna and Jett go eat outside in the screened-in porch. I know she’s telling Jett what happened with my mom. It hurts to sit here and not go eavesdrop, but I never do that. We need some semblance of privacy in a communal household. When people want to share with the group, they will. But I’m itching to hear.
My eyes flit to Sean in the windowsill, and hold.
He’s staring at me, too.
Did he ever look away?
Atlas calls over from shoveling cheesy potatoes onto his already full plate, “Celia, Sean, let’s eat in the big parlor.”
Our newbie reacts, eyebrows hitching. We stand and I touch Sage’s shoulder. She wasn’t invited because she can’t be around Atlas without insulting him. Rolling her eyes is the signal to me that she doesn’t want to join, anyway.
The three of us wa
lk to the grand parlor together. We have three sitting rooms. I’m not including the TV room. One we turned into a game room with a regulation sized pool table and everything. Another is upstairs, much smaller than the other two since it’s mostly bedrooms up there. But this parlor is the largest by far. In the olden days it was used primarily for hosting parties and entertaining high society. Sunbeams filtered through gauzy curtains soften the immense space. Atlas and I head for the main conversation area, its velvet chairs shaved by use and worn down to the filling in parts. The walnut coffee and side tables are so stained it looks like art.
Sean takes his seat last, not much left on his plate. He picks at it and waits.
Atlas motions to him while he looks at me, “Sean lost his dad when he was a kid. Maybe that’s why he likes to fight.”
Sapphires lock onto me and I blink a few times, quietly telling Atlas, “Maybe he didn’t want you telling me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s personal.”
“No secrets here,” Atlas shrugs, digging in.
I stare at his lack of sensitivity, especially since his telling a secret is why Sage misses Luke so much.
Sean picks up a fried crawfish, and offers with zero emotion, “It’s not that personal.”
I’m used to men covering up feelings so his denouncement doesn’t shock me in the slightest. But that he even had to pretend to not care about something as painful as losing his father, has me pissed off. “I haven’t lost anyone, so what’s my excuse, Atlas?”
“You were raised in this life.”
“So were other people here, and they don’t go on the road with us.”
“Not all girls are like you and Soph,” he shrugs.
Sean asks, “Sage never goes out?”
Crossing my legs and setting my plate in the center I smooth my voice, “She’s been out with us on some smaller things. Totally trained but…” I glance to Atlas to help me out.
“She’s a pain in the ass,” he mutters.