Cocksure (The Cochrans of Cocker County)

by Walker, Shiloh

  Devin hitched up a shoulder. “I talked to Mindy for a few minutes when—”

  “Sabrina,” I interrupted. “When did you talk to her?”

  “She called me early this morning,” he said, one straight, dark brown winging up. “She told me there might be something going on between you and Mindy.”

  Blood rushed to my face even as disappointment twisted my insides. “So you haven’t seen her?”

  Speculation passed through his eyes. “No.” He angled his chin toward Mindy. “She’s got something to give you. Won’t tell me what it is.”

  Mindy shoved to her feet, clutching a large, oblong box, maybe ten inches long and about the same in width in her hands. “I’m not trying to blackmail you,” she blurted. Her gaze wheeled to Devin before bouncing back to me. “I mean...well, I guess I get why you might be thinking that...” She swallowed, an audible click in her throat. “Mama...” Her face crumpled, then abruptly, hardened. “My mother,” she spat out, like the words tasted foul on her tongue. “She came to see me yesterday afternoon, right before coming to the premier gala. She said there were things you’d been lying about to the world, things between you and Mark...she never said outright, but she made insinuations. That you were obsessed with him—you were gay and that you loved him. Hell, I wouldn’t care if that’s what it was. But she said he told her he didn’t feel that way and you started hating him for it. And then she said he didn’t fall over that cliff—she said you killed him.”

  I swore, rubbing my face with my hands. “Let me guess,” I said, keenly aware of Devin watching us, of how his gaze kept slipping to me, all but cutting through me so he could see all the way into my ugly, twisted, scarred psyche. “She’s planning on going public with this.”

  “I don’t know,” Mindy said, her voice catching. “She might be, but I called her late last night and told her that wouldn’t be wise. I...” She looked down at the box, then shoved it at me. “Here. Take this. I don’t want to look at any of it. But there are things in there. Things she won’t want you having. I told her I had proof that Mark did...that he’d done things.” She stopped abruptly. “I can’t keep talking about this. I quit my job this morning. I’m selling my house and moving. I don’t want to be around anything that reminds me of him...or of her, now. My brother was a fucking child molester and I just— I can’t.”

  She pushed past me, striding past me.

  I held the box, feeling numb.

  Devin didn’t speak for the longest time.

  I didn’t move, just stared at the wooden box, terrified of what I’d see inside.

  “You want to tell me what Mark did to you?” Devin finally asked, his voice soft, but the pulse of anger burning just under the surface.

  I lifted my head slowly and met his eyes. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t. I really don’t.”

  Devin gave a short, terse nod, then looked at the box, contempt in his eyes. “This is between you and me, but I’d like the truth. Did you push him?”

  “No.” A laugh barked out of me. “I wish I had, but I didn’t.”

  “I wish you had, too.”

  Our eyes met. “That’s not very cop-like of you.”

  “I’m not feeling very cop-like.” A muscle pulsed in his jaw. “Mom doesn’t know, does she?”

  “No.”

  “But Sabrina...”

  Sighing, I tipped my face back, staring up at the sky. “She knows. Did she tell you anything?”

  “No.”

  I’d been braced to hear that she’d told him, the whole ugly ordeal, but hearing that sucked even more energy from me. I didn’t even want to think about last night, but I couldn’t stop myself. What had Sabrina said?

  If you go through with this, I’ll go to Devin.

  “She didn’t tell you anything?”

  Devin studied me with unreadable eyes for a along moment, then shook his head. “All she told me was that there might be trouble here and you could use some support of the friendly, and cop-like, variety, but it had to be unofficial. I tried to get her to tell me more, but she wouldn’t.”

  She’d never once said she’d tell him anything, had she? I’d been too hurt—and I still was—feeling too betrayed—that was draining out of me.

  Asshole, I told myself. You fucking asshole. I looked back at him. “I’m going to talk to Mom for a few minutes. I need to do it alone. Then I’m bailing out. I...Sabrina left last night. I...I said things. I didn’t handle it well.”

  “So I guess the engagement is off?” Devin asked sardonically.

  “You were right. There never was one.”

  His jaw tensed. “That girl has feelings for you, Luke. I don’t want to come down on you right now because you’re dealing with shit I can’t imagine, but that doesn’t mean you have the right to treat her like shit.”

  His words hit me with the impact of a double-fisted punch. Unable to stand there any longer, I turned away and strode back to the SUV. Popping open the back door, I put the box down. I didn’t want to think about what lay inside that box, but I couldn’t stop myself from flipping it open.

  If I was smart, I would have done it later, when Devin wasn’t there, but smart and me had parted ways a while back. I heard his harsh intake of breath only seconds after making sense of what I was looking at.

  Pictures. Neat stacks of pictures, sorted out and labeled.

  And the one on top was labeled Luke.

  I found myself staring at my skinny, teenaged body—naked. “What the fuck?” I whispered, sick rage spilling through me.

  “Luke,” Devin said, his voice gentle.

  “No.” I shook my head and slammed the box’s lid down shut. I didn’t want to know what was in there. I was going to burn the whole fucking thing. I started to back away, then stopped. Worried the box might move around and open, I flipped up the floorboard that covered the spare tire and put the box there. The floorboard wouldn’t go down entirely, but the box was more secure. And it was further from my sight. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

  Only it wasn’t.

  Not out of my mind, and judging from the fire burning in Devin’s, it wasn’t out of his, either.

  Devin opened his mouth.

  I cut him off, determined to change the subject. “Sabrina deserves better. I know that.” I’d treated her like shit for too long—not just last night, but for years, throughout our relationship.

  Then last night... I’d spent a lot of time hating myself over the years, but I’d never had as much self-directed antipathy, so much self-directed rage and disgust as what I felt now. “And yeah. I know she’s got feelings for me.”

  I looked over at my brother. “She’s in love with me.”

  “Shit.” Devin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hell. Maybe it’s best that she did leave.”

  “No.” I pinned him with a hard look. “I fucked things up, no doubt. But there’s one thing I’ve figured out—yeah, something shitty happened when I was a kid and I let it affect me for too much of my life, including my relationship with my family. I might never have any of you back in if it wasn’t for her. The good outweighs the bad and has for a long time. But I never let myself see the best thing I had going for me—it was her, all along. She’s in love with me, but it’s not one-sided. It took me too long to see it, but I love her, Devin. And I’m not letting her go without at least trying to fix this.”

  MOM SAT IN THE ARMCHAIR, a book in her lap, but she wasn’t reading. She had a scowl on her face and looked outside as if she wanted to shatter the glass and jump right through the empty windowpane, then march off to confront whoever had pissed her off.

  And somebody had.

  I could tell by the stiff set of her shoulders.

  “Mom?”

  I startled her. She jumped a little at the sound of my voice, then, with a strained laugh, she rose from the chair.

  “Don’t get up—”

  “Oh, hush. I’m supposed to exercise,” she said, cutting me off with an exaspera
ted laugh. “And trust me, as weak as I still feel, getting up is quite an exercise for me.”

  She only managed two steps before I reached her, but each step was steady.

  I hadn’t seen her since Wednesday with all the chaos that I’d had to deal with for the movie premier. I’d hoped that once it was behind me, I could just relax and spend a little more time with my family...and Sabrina.

  Now that I’d fucked up everything, that was off the table.

  “Listen, Mom...”

  She hooked her arm through mine. “Come on, Luke. Let’s go sit.”

  She guided me over to the small couch in the suite. It was the largest room the rehab facility had. Not as nice as I would have liked her to have, but any place that had anything bigger hadn’t boasted security or other options we’d deemed more important, and Mom had insisted we stop fussing.

  She was also worn out from the simple walk from her chair to the couch, so I guess having a bigger room wouldn’t have been in her interest anyway.

  “I’ve been dealing with annoying phone calls all morning,” she said. “I finally called the switchboard and told them that unless somebody had my direct number, I wasn’t to be bothered.”

  Grimacing, I squeezed her hand. “Somebody must have let the word out that you were here.”

  “Oh, that word has been out.” She waved an unconcerned hand. “I’ve had people calling a couple of times a day and that’s no bother. But today...” She huffed out a breath. “I’m going to assume you haven’t been online.”

  “Ah...no.” A sick sensation settled in my gut.

  Mom nodded slowly. “And Kelly hasn’t called you? Sabrina hasn’t mentioned anything...unusual?”

  “Where are you going with this?”

  Instead of answering, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone. “After the first two phone calls, I went online. All I had to do was go to Twitter.” She rolled her eyes. “I still have an account because I got one when I agreed to let London start up her account in high school. I still follow her, but I’m hardly ever on the website. Both you and Sabrina are trending.”

  I took her phone. She’d already tapped on the hashtag and the top tweet had me covering my face with my hand. “Mom, listen...”

  I felt her take the phone away.

  “People are being rather unkind to Sabrina. I’m not sure how that’s fair, considering the whole thing started when you told me you were engaged,” she said, her voice mild.

  I looked up but she was scrolling through tweets, so I couldn’t see her eyes. Her mouth pursed and occasionally she sighed or shook her head.

  “Mom...”

  She looked up at me, brows arched over her eyes. “Surely you’re not surprised by any of this.”

  Frowning, I tried again. “Listen, I—”

  “Maybe it’s my fault. No.” She shook her head. “I have to be honest. It is my fault, at least in part. I mean, I knew you were lying the moment you said it—”

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Luke...” She spoke in a chiding voice, shaking her head. “Really. You’re a fantastic actor, and when it comes to your work, you could convince Ebenezer Scrooge to buy a bridge in Arizona. But you have never been able to lie well when it comes to me.”

  Rising, I paced over to the window. “You knew it was bullshit the entire time.”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Why didn’t you call me on it when I said it then?” Turning to face her, I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling very much like a kid who’d been caught with his father’s Playboy magazines.

  “Maybe if Bella hadn’t interrupted, I would have.” She had a considering look on her face. After a heavy sigh, she added, “But honestly, I don’t know. She’s loved you for a long time, Luke. Can you look at me and tell me that you don’t feel something toward her?”

  “No.”

  My instant, blunt response seemed to surprise her.

  “Well, then.” She beamed at me. “Seems the two of you are going to have an interesting story—”

  “I fired her last night, Mom.”

  I’d seldom seen Joanne Cochran struck speechless.

  But I’d just done it.

  She blinked, then just closed her eyes, shaking her head as if to clear it. An awkward silence fell over the room, although maybe it just felt awkward to me as I waited for her to ask questions, to demand to know what in the hell I’d been thinking. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck, because once she asked that question, others would follow and I’d have to tell her, wouldn’t I?

  “Luke, what in the hell were you thinking?” she demanded, her voice cold and sharp, cutting through that awkward silence and shattering it into a million tiny shards.

  I flinched at the sharp reprimand in her voice and averted my gaze, unable to look at her.

  Coward. The ugly little voice inside me got a lot louder, and if it would have helped, I would have clapped my hands over my ears to drown it out.

  Then, as my gaze landed on somebody in the parking lot, that voice, and almost every other noise was drowned out by the slow, ponderous thudding of my own heart as it jumped up into my throat. Blood roared and a cold, focused anger bloomed.

  Maureen Wine stood by the back of her Buick, fluffing her hair and checking her makeup in a small mirror.

  Mom said something. I didn’t hear the actual words, just her voice. “Gimme a second,” I said, watching as Mo tucked her compact away, then checked her watch, looking around.

  She was waiting for somebody.

  That anger spread as I caught sight of a van coming up the long driveway, followed some yards back by another. The landscape on either side was well-manicured and both vans were forced to stop at the guardhouse just a hundred yards in from the road. As I watched, Mo turned toward them. One hand went to her hip, her posture radiating “irate, pissed-off woman of privilege.”

  I could even make out the way her shoulders rose and fell on an angry huff. She took a few steps toward the front of the parking lot where it led out to the drive, then stopped, stamping her foot.

  A third van had just pulled up behind the second. The two occupants from the first two vans had climbed out and were soon joined by the one from the third.

  I’d never claimed to be a genius or anything, but it didn’t take one to put this together.

  “Mom, did Maureen Wine contact you this morning?” I asked, tearing my gaze away from the tableau playing out in front of me so I could face my mother.

  She frowned, then nodded. Annoyance still lined her features, but there was something else now. “Yes. Why?”

  I went back to staring outside. “What did she want?”

  “She said she’d like to come visit and bring some friends. I’m not really fond of her, but she’s a pain in the ass. I figured if I got it over with here, I wouldn’t have to deal with her when I go home.”

  I heard the couch squeak and wasn’t surprised when she joined me at the window.

  “What on earth...” she muttered.

  I rested a hand on her shoulder, my mind racing. It calmed abruptly as the answer came to me, rising out of the turbulent storm as if it had just been waiting for me to take notice.

  I braced, waiting for the instinctive recoil, the doubt, the shame...anything.

  But it wasn’t there.

  “I need to go talk to the front desk for a minute. Then I’ll be back.”

  She caught my hand. “We need to discuss Sabrina, Luke. Maureen—and whatever zoo she brought—can get fucked.”

  The harsh language made me laugh. Catching her shoulders, I leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Trust me...we’re going to.”

  TEN MINUTES LATER, I returned to my mother’s room. She had settled back in the chair by the window, staring outside with suspicion and speculation in her eyes.

  “Was Mo at the after-party last night?” she asked as I caught one of the other chairs and dragged it over so I could sit in front of hers.

&n
bsp; “Yes.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That bitch. She did this. I don’t know how, but she’s the one who contacted all those tabloids.” She swung her head around and stared at me. “You already figured that out, didn’t you?”

  “Actually, that hadn’t crossed my mind, but it’s probably what happened.” Looking outside, I watched as several carts, emblazoned with security logos, approached the guardhouse. Most of the occupants were guards. But there were also two people in suits, including the weekend manager, whom I’d just finished speaking with.

  He had his assistant escorting Mo into a quiet interior office this very minute. I’d received the text confirmation of that detail just as I entered my mother’s room.

  After a considering look, Mom reached out and took my hand. “Luke. What’s going on?”

  I took a deep breath. I’d dreaded this for a long, long time. It wasn’t going to be easy to say this, was it?

  But looking into my mother’s eyes, identical to mine, I heard the words start pouring out, as if they’d been dammed up for so long and had been waiting for just this—a release.

  “Mom...do you remember Mark?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sabrina

  ONE GOOD THING ABOUT taking Kelly’s advice to come to her cabin in the Rockies...tucked up in Colorado’s Pike’s Peak area, practically clinging to the side of a mountaintop and looking down on the valley, it was a beautiful place to get away from the world.

  It offered incredible views, a fantastic view of the night sky, fairly temperate weather and a serenity I hadn’t been able to find when I first tried hiding out at my mom’s old place in Toronto.

  Plus, there was one other benefit.

  No internet.

  The satellite TV worked well enough, but I spent most of my time reading, hiking, sleeping, or eating ice cream. Sure, I tried to include food from the other four groups, but since I was trying to recover from a broken heart, the most important food group was ice cream, and I’d tried a good hundred flavors by the time I reached the end of my second week of self-imposed exile.