Cocky Senator's Daughter: Hannah Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 8)

by Faleena Hopkins

  “Maybe he’s in town for business,” she mutters, trying to understand. “Maybe this has nothing to do with me!”

  “He was asking for my room.”

  “What?!” she cries out in horror, backing into the wall. “How does he know where I am?”

  God, this is killing me.

  My time with her is precious.

  I know she’s going to go with him.

  He’s her fucking savior.

  I read the news.

  I know what happened.

  The guy’s a damn hero.

  He earned his power over her love.

  Me she just met.

  She’ll forget about me in time.

  But I’ll never lose the memory of her.

  “My guess is he saw the fight. Or someone did, and then they told him. He must’ve flown in today.”

  “Emma!” she whispers, eyes sharpening. “Sofia told her and then she told him!”

  “Babe, not possible.” My eyes dart to the clock on the dresser as I point to it. “Sofia’s driving her here to Boca right now! Your dad flew here already, and that means it’s gotta be from the fight. If he saw it he knows you and I have something goin’ on. Sofia didn’t have time to tell Emma shit.”

  The door bangs. “Hannah! You in there?! Let me in!”

  Hannah’s lips go white. “Oh Tobias.”

  “Babe,” I whisper, pulling her to me for a kiss. She crushes her lips to mine with desperation as her dad calls through the door again.

  “Hannah! Open the door!”

  She and I rip apart and I grab the door handle.

  “Wait!” she whispers, slipping on the sandals so she’ll appear more dressed. Like it matters. The bed behind us is evidence of what we’ve been doing.

  Rescue Her - Tobias

  I’m face to face with her dad, the male version of his daughter.

  Same eyes. Same nose.

  Same white-blonde hair, only he’s got grey around the temples and the skin around his eyes and forehead show the lines of years well spent.

  His ice-green eyes rake over me as though seeing my muscles in person has put the worst kind of visual in his head.

  Me with his daughter.

  Every daddy’s nightmare.

  I’m not a doctor or a lawyer, and I sure as shit ain’t no politician.

  He locks on Hannah, face turning bright red, jaw rigid. “Get your things.”

  “Daddy! What are you doing here?”

  He stares at her like she’s nuts. “You haven’t seen the news?”

  She shakes her head, glancing quickly to me. “No, I threw my phone away, and we…haven’t been watching T.V.”

  His jaw ticks. “Great,” he dryly mutters.

  “Sir, my name is–”

  “I know who you are, Tobias. You think I didn’t Google you when I saw?”

  Hannah explodes, shouting, “What’s the big deal about my taking that card from that ring girl and cheering Tobias on?” She waves a hand behind her to my hotel room. “And I’m almost thirty! I can sleep with whomever I wish, just like you did when you were my age! Remember my mother?”

  Sucking his cheek, he stares at her with a pained expression. She just punched him below the belt. It’s fascinating to watch this father-daughter fight. It’s just like how she described them — you can see the love.

  What she can’t see is that he’s not controlling her.

  He’s protecting her.

  Because I’m a man, I can tell.

  It’s what we do and there’s no mistaking it.

  “Hannah,” he groans, shaking his head to rip her words from it. Unlocking his phone with quick thumb jabs he holds it up. “Look.”

  She leans in, and her face transforms to horror.

  “Oh my God!” she grabs the phone and swipes the image gone from sight. Her eyelashes rise to look at me. “It’s us in the ocean, Tobias. When I was…touching you and you were…”

  When she had her hand on my cock through my soaking wet boxers, she means. When my hands held her breasts and caressed her nipples.

  On video.

  Remembering those kids, I growl, “I should have broken their phones the first time!”

  “It’s all over the news,” Justin barks, eyeing me like I’m an idiot. “Do you realize how much she’s had to deal with already? You think she needs this shit?”

  “Hey,” I counter, throwing up one of my hands. “We didn’t see them! If I’d have known that would never have posted!”

  “They were filming you! They recognized you, because you’re local! But this went viral because of her, when the Internet caught onto who she was!” He points at his daughter who looks tormented.

  “I’m sorry, Hannah,” I grunt, having no idea how this will ricochet through her life.

  “Get your things. You two seen together, it’ll be a clusterfuck they’ll feed off of for weeks! They’ll be all over you with cameras. We’ve gotta end this now. I’ll get you out of here. I’ve got a helicopter waiting for us.”

  A fucking chopper? My eyes dart to Hannah, but she’s not surprised. How many times has she flown in one?

  She runs a trembling hand over her wet head. “Can I dry my hair at least?! Can I at least have a second to process this? You know what, fuck this,” she mumbles on her way into the bathroom. She shuts the door, not waiting for an answer.

  He doesn’t argue or chastise her cussing – didn’t faze him at all that she swore like that. I’m more impressed by this guy by every passing second. Too bad he hates my guts.

  And here we are just standing in this small hallway like a couple of idiots with nothing to do but wait for her to get ready. I take the reins and head in, asking over my shoulder, “You want something from the minibar?”

  “No.” But he follows me, eyeing the bed and shoving his hands in his slacks pockets.

  Exhaling, I open it anyway and toss a beer at him. He catches it and pauses before popping the screw cap off and tossing it in the trash from where he stands. I grab one for myself and we gulp a healthy amount down at the same time, his eyes on her turquoise dress that’s lying over a chair.

  Can’t even imagine what it must have been like for him. To have a daughter would be fucking torture for me. I bet he’s wanted to kill every guy who ever looked at her, just to protect her from the pain some guys can cause. It’s the devil’s dance.

  But that’s not what I did with Hannah and I want him to know it.

  “I care about her.”

  Shark-like eyes lock onto me, but he says nothing and takes another hefty sip. The only sound is the hair dryer blowing, muffled through walls.

  Leaning against the dresser I repeat it. “I care about her.”

  “So?”

  “So I’m going to leave her alone.”

  His beer bottle freezes in front of his lips as he frowns in surprise. Nodding with a glimmer of respect behind his eyes, he takes a sip and we wait.

  Finally the bathroom door opens. Hannah’s eyes are on me as she comes into the room, hair soft and cascading around her shoulders. She looks like she’s trying to prepare herself for heartache.

  “I love the dress, Tobias.”

  It feels like a cold hand is twisting my heart. “You make it look good, babe.”

  Her resigned gaze drifts to the beer he’s holding before she glances to mine. “You friends?”

  “Nope,” he mutters before finishing it off.

  “Tobias,” she whispers, crossing to me, her eyes begging me to understand. “Thank you.”

  I cup her chin, forgetting all about her dad watching me. “I wanted to spend as much time with you as I could.”

  She nods then leans into me for a hug.

  I embrace her and kiss her hair before letting her go.

  For good.

  Scooping up the dress from last night, she glances around. “Oh, right. Sofia had our money in her purse. This is all I brought.” With her shoulders heavy she walks away as her dad drops his empty bottle in
the trash. It makes a whoosh sound in the silence, and bangs against the side of the container.

  No movement or sound goes unnoticed, everything heightened as my chest thuds.

  Her dad nods to me. “Good fight, by the way. Congratulations.”

  Stifling the urge to punch him out and run away with her, I rasp, “Thanks.”

  Hannah’s face squishes up, but she stifles the flash of pain I just saw and returns to stone cold detached in an instant. Her hand flutters up to wave. Not looking back, she disappears.

  Justin Cocker locks eyes with me as he shuts the door.

  They’re gone.

  She’s gone.

  I’m alone again.

  I set down my beer, heart slamming in my chest as emptiness closes in around me.

  The Bastards - Hannah

  Dad runs a hand through his hair while ushering me onto the street. With his eyes darting left and right he latches onto my elbow, guides me to a waiting limo, his temporary driver standing at attention.

  Under my breath, I mutter, “I have to go to my hotel.”

  “Fuck that.”

  In a hushed and angry voice, I say, “I have my things there! Emma is coming! Sofia drove her motorcycle all the way to Fort Lauderdale and back! I can’t just disappear without telling them. They probably have gotten back now and are waiting for me!”

  “They’ll understand. Call them. Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a phone anymore. Here.” He hands me his as I land in the luxury car.

  “Is that Justin Cocker?” a woman asks. Her overly tanned husband is staring at my dad trying to figure it out as they pass our car.

  “Hello. Good to see you,” Dad smiles, his charming smile flashing. They can’t see the tension hiding behind his eyes like I can.

  I once asked why he didn’t run for President and he said he had no interest in being crucified on a daily basis. “Plus I care about you kids too much. It’s hard enough on you the level I’m at. I don’t want to see what happens were I reaching higher.”

  I’m glad he didn’t.

  But I wouldn’t be surprised if Elijah didn’t give it a shot. He’s at Yale for a reason and I know part of it is he worships Dad. He’s not studying law to fight in court. He yearns for the bigger battles in Washington.

  Dad slides into the backseat next to me as I wait for Sofia to answer. At the sound of shouting we twist around to look out the rear window, our eyes narrowing in exactly the same way. Tourists are yelling and pointing, “Hey, I think that was Hannah and Justin Cocker!”

  This is the first time they’ve said my name before his.

  An honor I don’t want.

  God, that video.

  It’s one thing to have the world see me stroking Tobias while he caressed my breasts, but my dad seeing it? Our whole family watching me do that? I’m so embarrassed I can hardly look at him.

  Dad orders, “Drive!” and we lunge from the curb.

  Sofia Sol comes through the phone, “Hey Uncle Justin.”

  “It’s me Soph,” I whisper.

  “Hannah, motherfucker, let me guess.”

  “You’ve seen the video?”

  “Yeah! Emma told me about it when I picked her up. Showed me at the airport but I had no way to call you.”

  “I know,” I mutter, head in my hand. “Hey, I thought Andy had offered to drive you. Wasn’t sure if you took him up on it.”

  “I sent him home after a good banging last night.”

  Despite the circumstances, her change of heart about him makes me smile a little. “Lucky guy.”

  “Lucky me. He didn’t try to stick around. I hate it when they’re clingy. He was too grateful…hey! I’m getting distracted. This is bigger news than my one-night-stand. Since you’re on your dad’s phone I take it he’s saving you again.”

  “Putting me back in my jail cell is more like it.” I throw him a look he catches, strong jaw flexes with tension as he leans back in the seat and rubs his face.

  “Did he kill Tobias?”

  Just hearing his name makes my chest hurt. “No.”

  “My dad would have,” Sofia laughs. “Did he kick his ass?”

  “No.”

  “My dad would definitely have done that.”

  “Tobias handled himself really well with Dad.” Glancing to my father, I notice he won’t meet my eyes to confirm. “But of course my father hates him.”

  Dad growls, “He’s a toy!”

  “Did you hear that, Sofia?”

  “Yep. Hey Emma! Uncle Justin just called Tobias a toy.”

  I overhear Emma snort, “He should know!”

  I whisper, “Oh my God, I’m not telling him you said that,” while rubbing my forehead. Glancing over I see Dad doing the exact same thing, a mirror image of my frustration. We’re so much alike it’s crazy. “I’ll be there in a minute. We’re coming to the hotel to get my things.”

  “WE ARE NOT!” Dad shouts.

  I match his volume. “YES WE ARE!”

  He glares at me. “Hannah, give me my phone.”

  “Bye Soph. See you in a minute.”

  He snatches it from my stiff hand and tells the driver, “Go to the helipad.”

  “Dad! You have to stop protecting me!”

  “Hannah, until you have kids, you won’t understand.” He stares out at the ocean and mutters, “I will never stop protecting my little girl.”

  My heart tightens with emotion as I gaze at his handsome profile. He will always feel guilty for not being there when I was a baby. He will never let it go, and that kills me.

  Because I needed him.

  I did.

  All children need their dad.

  That he oversteps his boundaries now is bittersweet, and my fighting it is almost laughably confusing to me. I want him to always protect me, and I want to be free. Maybe it would have been different had he been there since the beginning. Had he seen me crack my first smile, stumble my first steps. Maybe if one of the first words I could have spoken was daddy then things wouldn’t be like this between he and I.

  But they are like this.

  And one of us has to unclip my wings.

  With a lump building in my throat I gaze at him and whisper, “I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  Eyes locked on the silent, passing view, his hands form fists on his casually spread-out legs. “Trust me, that hotel room just reminded me.”

  “Are you ashamed of me? Tobias and I did nothing wrong! We thought we were alone out there! The beach was deserted. Those people must have snuck up on us. Do you know how awful that is? I mean, Dad, before you were in office when you didn’t have the Press breathing down your neck, tell me you didn’t do worse. I bet you’ve had sex in public places, haven’t you? And don’t lie!”

  He bites his inner cheek, stubble shifting. “Maybe.”

  “That’s what I thought. Dad, look at me!”

  Exhaling he turns his stubborn head. “Hannah…”

  “No. Look at my face. I’d die if you can’t look at me anymore.”

  Dad’s frown is instantaneous. He reaches out for my hand. “I’m not ashamed of you! But do you think it’s easy for me to watch that? Me just as your father — no Dad needs to see that stuff. But add knowing how the world will talk about you? Don’t you get it, Hannah? Didn’t you see me punch that kid and his friend after what he called you? This is not my shame you see. It’s rage! My inability to protect you from the world! I can’t punch them all. Do you understand how that feels for a man like me? My job is to protect you! Protect my wife! Protect my boys! All of you! And I can’t, with the fucking Internet streaming crap into every household. I’m in over my head! I had to call Jason because I have no idea how to save you from this shit storm that’s only just begun. He said I could do one thing and one thing only; go bring you home to keep you safe. Surrounded by your family so that when the knives start flying you’ll have us as your shield. I will always be the first in line holding that shield, sweetheart. I am not ashamed of you. I
love you with all of my heart. I love looking at your face, honey.” He reaches up and touches my cheek then drops his hand with pain in his eyes. “I just don’t want them hurting you.”

  My voice is so quieted by this confession that I can barely hear myself. “Okay. I’ll go back to Atlanta with you. I’m sorry.”

  He faces front in his seat again, resigned and grateful I’ve agreed. This doesn’t feel right to me, though. There’s still a deep shame in my heart that isn’t warranted. The Press and faceless people watching that video, they’re ruling my life. Who gave them that enormous power?

  So I touch his arm and say, “But please take me to my hotel first so I can leave with my head held high, not like some criminal.”

  In the rearview mirror the man’s steady gaze is on my dad for permission.

  “That’s fine, Leonard. We’ll stop at the Wyndham on the way. Hopefully the Media won’t be there. Hannah, when you stay in hotels you need to check in under a fake name.” Dad swipes his phone and places a call to the helicopter pilot. “We’re delayed. Turn the engine off. I’ll call when we’re en route.”

  When he lays the phone on his thigh there is an awkward silence between us. I can tell he’s emotionally spent.

  “Dad, why a helicopter?”

  He rubs his eyes and then blinks a few times, trying to figure out the reason. “I guess I thought it would raise your spirits. You always liked them.”

  Chest caving in on a deep exhale I reach over and hug him. “Thank you.”

  “I hate that they’re taking shots at you, Hannah.” He pats the arm I’ve draped around his torso. “I despise bottom feeders.”

  “Me too, Daddy. I hate them, too.”

  Unfortunately he didn’t get his wish. A school of piranhas swarms us in the lobby of my hotel. They’d been waiting for the live bait and they are ravenous.

  Dad holds his hand out and I duck my head, as usual.

  He smiles and jokes, “Alright guys, back off or I’ll never give you a sound bite again.”

  They love him, so they laugh while following us with questions like, “Ms. Cocker, did you know Tobias before yesterday or was this a whirlwind attraction?” And “You helped him win that fight. Did you know him before that?” and “Hannah! Did you break his…heart?”