“Then you’re cocky by association, because we were here first, kid.”
Tonk Sr. and Carmen enter the room and I notice their hair is damp, too. The elders have their own bathrooms. They’re holding hands—she’s practically floating. I’ve no doubt they had sex from the satiated looks on their faces. But when she looks at me, Carmen’s eyes darken. Her husband nods a greeting to the group. Denita walks in with groggy eyes, “I did not want to get up today!” Mutual murmurs as they pull out eggs, bacon, ham, bread, butter.
Now it’s old friends and I’m the odd man out.
Gotta remind myself it will take time.
With a cup of coffee I head for the porch just as Sage and Celia descend the winding staircase inside. I see their legs and hesitate, but feel Carmen watching me so I head on out. Gotta remember that rule they put up about no fraternizing for the singles. Through the cracked-open kitchen window as I walk to a chair I hear Celia’s voice lick my ears, a smile in it as she says, “Coffee, thank God you didn’t drink it all yet!”
I sneak a lingering glance of her through the window at her low-ponytail, tank top painted on, muscular arms waving as she tries to shoo them away from the machine so she can get to it.
“Don’t make me hurt you!”
Her dad laughs, but Jett blocks the path and Luna crosses her arms in front of him. It’s funny, but if I stand here and watch more, I’ll look weird. Forcing myself to keep moving, I plant my sore thighs on the old rocking chair that doesn’t have a cushion, wincing as my bruises and muscles object. It’s a pretty day, easy to lose myself in the view with the coffee propped on my leg, sun setting fire to dew in recently shorn grass.
“You meditating?”
Startled, I glance over to Atlas strolling up. “Huh? No.”
“Gonna have to stay more alert than that,” he mutters. “I could have jumped you, man. Don’t let that happen.” Nodding I frown at his profile as he takes a seat. What a lucky life he leads. Raised in this amazing place. Fighting for a living. Protecting people. And to top it off, he’s got a woman like Celia gazing at him like he rules the world.
Glancing to me, Atlas pauses. “Something on your mind?”
Shrugging I deflect his suspicion with honesty. “Was thinking you’re a lucky guy.”
He blinks, shoulders relaxing now that he knows I’m not judging him. “I guess I am.” Troubled eyes drop to his lap. “My stomach’s killing me. Think I have an ulcer. Your face looks worse. How does it feel?”
“Don’t care.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
Nodding on a half-smile he motions to my chair. “That why you chose the hard rocker?”
“I prefer classic rock.”
A beat, then he chuckles. “You’re a funny one, Sean. Real confident, you know? That works well around here.”
“You’re the same.”
Our eyes lock and I see the doubt creep into his mind. “Not myself these days. Miss my brother.” He heads away.
Weird that now two Ciphers have shown me their soft underbellies of insecurity. Celia thinks Sofia is more respected and fierce. Atlas misses Luke so much he can’t even drink a good cup of coffee anymore. I guess having a stranger in your midst gives you a pass to say things you might not say to the people who know you best.
I spread my legs on a deep lean, rest one elbow on the arm and rock the silence away until Celia walks out and I glance over to her. It blurts out of my mouth before I even have a chance to wonder if it’s a good idea. “Hey, you wanna take a walk before we start training? Warm up our muscles?”
She thinks about it, chewing her lip. “Mmm…sure, we could do that, I guess.”
CHAPTER 13
C ELIA
I n the field behind our plantation we walk over grass that’s taking its own sweet time to grow back. “This is usually a lot longer,” I tell him.
“Yeah?”
“Sofia Sol went on a mowing spree before she left. So bored she did both the front and back yard. Acres and acres screamed, what is happening?!”
He laughs at the funny voice I gave the grass. “Had it been that long?”
“Look at all this space! Who wants to drive the machine all day?”
“Can you sit on it?”
Eyeing him I ask, “You really think we’d have a tiny lawnmower?”
“This size.” He holds up his thumb and forefinger with a space in between.
“Oh totally. That’s what we used to have. Only problem was that the crickets absconded with it for their own houses.”
Reaching for a dandelion he mutters, “Absconded, that’s a fifty-cent word right there.”
“Oh come on, don’t be so chintzy.” Accepting the offered flower I glance to his sapphires, “Thank you.”
“I’d give you a rose but there isn’t one readily available.”
Watching my fingers twirl it round and round, I mutter, “I prefer wild things anyway.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I sneak a glance to his face, but Sean gives no indication that there seemed to be a hidden meaning there. Maybe he meant to simply state a fact, but it felt meant for me. “You’re not crushing on me or anything, right?”
He sucks on his teeth, scanning the oak trees we walk between. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Okay, good,” I smile, though I’m oddly disappointed. “I mean, because that would be weird with the training. And what I told you about my feelings for Atlas.”
Grabbing a slice of bark hanging from one of the knotted branches he mutters, “Very weird. You think he feels the same about you?”
Frowning I admit, “I don’t know. I’m really not sure.”
“You going to tell him?”
“No way.”
Sean stops walking, grabs a thick branch just above his head and swings from it, bending his knees so his feet don’t scrape. “What if it’s just a fantasy?”
Bristling I cock my head, stuffing my free hand in my back pocket. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if you just think you like him because of all the time you’ve spent together. It could be easy to fall into a fantasy of maybes and what-ifs, after all those years. He’s younger than you.”
“So? Age is a number.”
“When both people are as mature as each other, yeah.” His sneakers drop to the earth and he leans against the trunk, casually hooking his thumbs in his pockets as we lock eyes. “I’m just being devil’s advocate.”
“Atlas is…”
“What?”
My eyelashes drop to the flower because I can’t say that he’s mature. In fact, his twenty-five years barely show in Atlas’s actions when he becomes upset or feels cornered. And I still haven’t been able to fully let go of what he did to Luke. It was so strange and out of character. Even if he did it for the club. “I can be mature for both of us.”
“I see.”
My head snaps up in anger, heat rising. “Don’t act like you know things about us when you don’t.”
Sean’s lips go thin as he stares. “Let’s change the subject. I was just curious because you made it clear I shouldn’t crush on you. So let’s drop it.”
“Fine.”
He shrugs, “Fine. So did you guys go to school in town? I’m not asking about Atlas anymore,” he hurriedly says. “I mean all of you who were born here.”
Taking a deep breath to regain my temper I glance to the flower, spin it three times before I explain, “We were home schooled. When I was about three, Meg arrived. Honey Badger found her when he was traveling and she was very smart. She took on the teaching of us.” Relaxing a bit I walk to a lower branch and lean on it. “We’d sit in the grand parlor with books she’d bought online. Learning how to write, read, do math. She made it fun, you’ve noticed how nice she is.” He nods. “Well, she’s very playful. She had us paint, though none of us was very good at it except her daughter. Sage has artistic abilities we just…don’t. My brother might be smart, but you should s
ee his handwriting. It’s terrible. And his art was worse,” I laugh, staring into the memories. “Sofia Sol always drew sexy stuff she wasn’t supposed to, then laughed when she was told to stop. Luke is almost three years younger than she is, so he would goad her into doing more. It was so funny to see Meg blush! That red hair making her look like pink cotton candy on fire!” Glancing to Sean I ask, “What about you, did you go to private school?”
“Why private? What makes you guess that?”
Shrugging I trace the bark, not meeting his eyes. “You seem upper class.”
He laughs, “I caused so much trouble after my dad died. Smoked all through high school. And it was public, thanks, not private. Upper class has never been used to describe me before today. I was a total loner. Got bullied when I was in middle school. The only reason nobody fucked with me in high school is I grew fast, towered over most of them.”
“And you’re surly.”
Sean eyes me. “Surly?”
“You don’t get asked to be a Cipher if you don’t have anger in your veins, Sean.” At his silence I lay the dandelion down on a branch and shove my hands in my pockets. “You’re quiet almost all the time. You look at the world from under your eyebrows. You’re watchful but you have this air like people had better not piss you off. Around here that fits in, but I can see how normies at school would steer clear.”
Deep in thought he nods, “That’s about right. You nailed it.”
“And I thought it was private school, too, because you seem very smart. The way you speak, too.”
“You have a great vocabulary, Celia.”
“Meg encouraged us to read a lot. She forced us, actually,” I laugh, remembering. “But she was smart about it, found books we’d love. Separately, not as a whole group, you know? Like I loved Animal Farm, and all the politics of it. Luke loved The Old Man and The Sea, by Hemingway. Sofia adored On The Road by Jack Kerouac. Actually they all did, except me and Sage. I thought it was overrated. Sage loved The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. Atlas didn’t love any of them except when we read The Hunger Games—all of us agreed those were fantastic.”
“What about your brother?”
“Tonk Jr. reads anything you give him and he loves it all. But his favorite was The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.” I smile and look over at Sean to find the sun has reached through a gap in the leaves above to light his sapphires on fire. We don’t say anything for a moment and he pushes off the trunk, walking to me. Coming close his eyelashes dip to my mouth and I shut it, aware suddenly that I was gaping at him. “Celia,” he rasps, staring at my lips. “What if I just…” He leans in and captures my mouth in a kiss. Tingles drift into my body, and it feels so good that I respond. It’s a reflex, like I can’t stop it, or want to.
“Celia!” Jett calls from the house. “I’ve got a mission for your crew! Where you at!?”
We tear apart, my breath hitched as our eyes stay locked and heated. “Why did you do that?”
Sean frowns, “I had to.”
“Don’t do it again.” I dart under the branch to escape and head home. Sean’s footsteps are quick behind me. He jogs to catch up, hands me the dandelion.
“You forgot this.”
I could throw it to teach him a lesson, but instead I glance to it, hesitate, and tuck it into my pocket.
CHAPTER 14
SEAN
“C elia and Atlas can handle this. You’ll follow along, Sean. You’re to watch and learn. Don’t go desperado on us. We have a way of doing things that has worked for longer than you’ve been alive. You want to impress me? You back them up, and stay the fuck out of their way until you’re damn sure they need you.” Jett asks over his shoulder, “Ready for some real beauty?” as the four of us stroll up to a garage the size of a small warehouse that doesn’t match the main house’s columns and forgotten grandeur. Must have been an add-on to the property.
He reaches down, fiddles with an antiquated pad lock and hauls the door up. Celia and Atlas are watching me as rows of motorcycles wave hello.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, glancing to Jett as he crosses his arms, proudly surveying the machines.
Awestruck I slowly drink in the polished chrome handlebars, levers, fork tubes, clutch covers, mufflers, wheels and brake calipers, plus thick tread on all the tires like they’re ready to ride. “All Harley Davidsons but one?”
“That’s Luna’s. Her third Triumph Bonneville. Our daughter rides one, too. Hers is deep green, brown leather seat, cool as shit. My girls both like to be unique,” he smirks, and waves me deeper inside. “You’re lucky Sofia was in a snit before we sent her on a job. She cleaned up Scratch’s old motorcycles. You’ll take one of his during your trial period.”
“Scratch? Oh yeah, someone mentioned he and his wife moved to Montana.”
As Atlas and Celia stay nearby, listening to him with patience and respect, Jett chuckles, “Old fuck will probably outlive me.” Running his fingers over the shiny black Harley perfect for a guy my size, he explains, “Scratch is tall like you. This seat is 26.8 inches off the ground so you’ll sit high and comfortable even for a cruiser. He was like a father to me when my dad and I didn’t get along. He took me in when I was like you—searching for more. Didn’t even know I was lost until I found the Ciphers.” Grey eyes rise to meet mine “Scratch was President back then. Solid bastard. Never met a truer heart in rougher skin. He taught me what I know. We were on the road for almost three decades together before he finally retired.”
Eyes glued to the machine I whisper, “Can’t imagine ever wanting to retire.”
Jett chuckles, “Listen to this guy. Hasn’t even been on a mission and he’s hooked.”
Celia smiles but I see she’s still thinking about that kiss.
Atlas jerks his chin, adds, “My dad retired for about six months once.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Ceels whispers. “I forgot about that.”
“Mom wanted him home more, but then he was such a mess that she pushed him on the road again. Said she hated him so unhappy. It was the day she stopped telling him that she worried.”
Jett frowns, the reminder of Honey Badger souring the moment. “Back to this!” He slaps the leather seat that’s got small tears in it from age. “You said you know how to ride. You drop this and I’ll drop you.”
My lips tighten. “Yes, sir.”
He smirks, “It’s so easy to fuck with you, Sean.”
I relax and slide my hands in my back pockets. “Happy to amuse.”
His face goes hard again. “But I’m not fucking with you now. You drop this and I will be fuckin’ pissed. I won’t kick you out for it, but we might have words.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When you’re out there, you’re to watch and only watch.” He points a thick forefinger in my face. “You hear me? You’re not ready and I don’t want you getting in their way.” His finger slides over to them and holds there. “These two know the game. Follow. Listen. Learn. Do not—I repeat—do not be a hero. Today you are more like a camera, there to record the events and store them in that hard drive you call a brain. It’s that simple. And with your face all fucked up like that, you’re not exactly easy on the eyes, either. But that might work in your favor. Atlas, say you did this to him, and they’ll be all ears, bend to your will in a hurry.” Jett laughs and smacks my shoulder. “I’m fucking with you.”
Atlas and Celia head to their Harleys, which are backed-in so they can take off without a problem, just like all the bikes are. I glance to her as she shakes out her hair, ties it back into a pony tail, tighter this time, and pulls her leather jacket from the saddlebags, The Ciphers patch on the back and a matching ‘C’ on the left bicep shoot envy into my veins. Atlas tugs his on, shrugs his shoulders to get it to lay comfortably, and man I want one.
With the exciting roar of engines echoing off the walls, they slowly drive their Harleys to just outside the garage, and wait for me to join them. Can’t fuck this up. Been almost a
decade since I rode, when Mom and Alan broke it off. Never had one of my own.
Pulling every memory of how the engine works from the deepest recesses of my brain, I mount the beast like I tamed it long ago. Fake it ‘til you make it, as the saying goes.
Nobody can tell you don’t know what you’re doing if you act like you do.
Then learn fast.
Jett walks beside me, staring over his nose, arms crossed while I hold the clutch, light the thing on fire. Kicking it into neutral I strap the helmet on and lean back like it’s just another day.
My eyes lock with Celia. She gives me a wink, and takes off, thighs gripping that beast and fingers relaxed on the handles.
That’s gotta be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Lookin’ good, Sean!” Jett mutters. “Don’t fuck this up.”
I take off, vowing to myself that I won’t.
How hard can watching and learning be?
CHAPTER 15
SEAN
“We ride staggered,” Celia shouts over our engines.
“Guys in front and behind,” Atlas calls back.
I nod and back off the gas, switch the side of lane to complete the formation. It’s a humid day. The wind feels like flying through warm water. But with green trees layered with Spanish Moss under a smattering of clouds, I’m loving every second of this. Atlas laughs and whoops loudly. I join in. Celia follows and for about a quarter of a mile we sound like freedom personified. Such a rush, and as her laughter drifts on the wind, my smile falters. Can’t let Celia’s thighs wrapped around that leather seat, the curve of her ass in stretched-tight jeans, get in the way of doing what I came to do.
She glances back and holds my eyes a second. “Good form!”
I pause a beat, “You too.”
Nodding like she knows she’s a good rider, Celia faces front and calls to Atlas, “You’ve got the map.”
“Yep, another mile!” he looks over his shoulder and jerks his chin to me. “Men protect the women! That’s why you’re in back.”
Sean aka Diesel (Cocker Brothers Book 14) Page 7