Cocky Rebel : Sofia Sol Cocker (Cocker Brothers, The Cocky Series Book 13)

by Faleena Hopkins

  “Sofia Sol, don’t you dare,” she hisses, as other Ciphers turn their heads to watch us, curious and making way for my passage.

  I’m a grown woman but what can I say, she brings out the kid in me.

  “Officer!” I call out, in my sultriest voice.

  Mom tries to grab my arm but I dodge her by blading my body and slipping from her grip with a martial arts evasive tactic. She swears under her breath.

  “Officer sexy!” I sing, running down the steps.

  “Daughter, get back in the house—”

  “I don’t mean to cause trouble, Daddy,” I drawl…and I never drawl. “But Sage thinks this young officer here is awfully handsome and so she’s wonderin’ if perhaps he might be single but doesn’t wanna be?”

  I point to her, and damn if her freckles aren’t crimson.

  The hot police officer stands straighter, eyes darting to Honey Badger who looks like his head might fly off his neck. “Sage, get back in the damn house!”

  Meg begs her, “Sage, sweetie, come on.”

  Funnily enough, with everyone watching, this just makes Sage saunter right up to the cop. I’m so proud of her as she flirts with a fake drawl, too. “Well how embarrassin’, and I do apologize for my cousin Sofia Sol. She acts before she thinks, most days.”

  I grin, “Was I lyin’?” setting her up.

  She eyes me and glances to the ground, then to him, rolling her red hair between two fingers as she comes up with a load of bullshit. “She wasn’t lyin’ because we don’t lie. It’s part of our code to be honest, always and every day. Leaves things out in the open, no room for misinterpretations among a wild group like us, you understand.”

  I glance to the older cop. He’s flabbergasted by the pretty girls who’ve overtaken the tense cops-against-bikers conversation, and turned it on its head.

  I give him a wink and his eyes go wide.

  While I’m doing this, Sage asks her heartthrob, “What’s your name, sir?”

  Jaw ticking as he eyes the Cipher men, Hot Cop doesn’t answer.

  Unpredictable and snarly, as usual, Honey Badger says, “My daughter asked for your name! You gonna show her disrespect and not answer?”

  “Uh…” Hot Cop mumbles, glancing to his partner. He gets the curt nod to go ahead, combined with a look that reeks of don’t get us killed.

  “My name is Officer Kelly, Miss. That is, James Kelly III. Nice to meet you…Sage?”

  “Sage Honey Martinez,” she smiles, nodding that he got it right. “See, we have nothin’ to hide here. I’ll happily tell you my whole name so you can put me in your files. Any of us would do the same, if you wanted. I’ll even give you a tour if you’d like one!”

  The cops are wondering, if this is a test, how do you pass? I bet they’re wishing they’d called for back-up right about now. But Sage’s open expression and relaxed stance in her faded blue jeans and baby-blue halter, says there is no danger.

  From her.

  “Uh, a tour isn’t necessary, Miss Martinez, we were just following up on a call that there was some trouble in Tennessee, but I guess they were speaking about another club.” He glances to Honey Badger who’s glaring at him, then to my father, our President and clearly the leader he should address if he wants to keep everyone happy. “Mr. Cocker, if we need to speak to you again, what number can we call?”

  Dad gives it to him without emotion. The uniforms head to their patrol car with all of us silently watching. Officer Kelly throws a glance over his shoulder, nodding to Sage. She wiggles her fingers at him, her smile growing by the second. As he slides into the passenger seat and closes the door, his eyes flick to her and hold.

  Honey Badger plants himself in front of her, crossing his arms with a warning that this particular twenty-two-year-old beauty is off limits to Hot Cop Kelly, and all of his law-enforcing kind.

  The pasty-faced cop mutters something, mouth moving through the windshield and eyes dead. Their patrol car screeches to life in a display of power and status, seven-foot-high dust clouds pluming with drama. But he discovers he has to do a five-point turn that makes us all grin our asses off. We watch as he backs up, pulls the wheel, backs up again.

  As they turn onto the two way road that leads back into the main part of town, Fuse points at them. “You know what he said to Kelly? I just shit my pants, we need to find a bathroom. I read his lips.”

  We laugh harder.

  Chapter 5

  SOFIA SOL

  Dad jogs his head up once, telling his best friend, “Your daughter should go into politics.” He wipes his eyes from laughing. “Sage, you did good.”

  “Thank you, Jett. And Daddy, you need to trust me more.”

  Honey Badger grunts, “I trust you!”

  “Do you? Because I just defused what could have been a bad situation, and you almost lost it when I started talking to him.”

  “I backed you up, didn’t I? Could have dragged you into the house, but I didn’t. No, I fuckin’ didn’t.” Under his breath he mumbles on his way to the garage, “I need to ride, blow off some steam.”

  Dad locks eyes with me. “I know your intention wasn’t to defuse a damn thing, Sofia Sol!” He raises his voice to inform his best friend. “I’ll join you, H.B. No easy task watching our daughters flaunt their sexuality!”

  “Hey!” I call after him. All I get is the back of his hand flying in the air, shutting me up. “Mom, that’s not fair. I’m an adult for over a decade now! I can do what and who I want.”

  Am I defending myself, or the fact that I broke a Cipher rule tonight? There was no ranch-hand, and that just makes this worse. Dad is judging me, and it hurts.

  With her arms crossed, Mom says, “You mean more to your father than you realize.”

  On that enigmatic statement, she follows him.

  “Hey!” I call out.

  She doesn’t even give me the wave.

  Everyone but Celia, Sage, Atlas and Luke, go inside, silent and getting out of here where it’s nice and awkward. Blood-family business is hard to watch, because even a biker can’t control it. Too many emotions come up that we don’t deal with well.

  Give us something to punch and we’re happy. Otherwise…gotta go. Bye.

  “They’re quick to temper,” Celia quietly explains, “Just like you, so don’t take it personally.”

  “I’m pretty sure my dad just—”

  “He didn’t call you a slut. He’s just always going to have a hard time picturing you with men. Usually he doesn’t see it, but when you came back tonight…” She stares off toward the garage, which we can’t see from here. It’s around the side of the house, out of view from the road, on purpose. “And then seeing you pretend-flirt with the cops, it’s just too easy to picture you…you know.”

  Sage digs a smooth rock from the dirt and wipes it off. “Sofia’s just sexually active. There’s a difference between that and a slut.”

  We hear footsteps creak from the porch and look over as Tonk Jr., Celia’s brother, walks to the edge as though standing at a poorly lit pulpit, his glasses low on his nose. He missed all the excitement but did overhear Sage. “In truth, no woman should ever be called a slut. She is either interested in sex and exerting her personal right and decision to partake in sexual exercise wherever and whenever she wants to, of her own choice and fully aligned with her personal desires and higher motivations. This woman owns her sexuality and enjoys it freely just like she would a good meal. We don’t always eat at the same restaurant, do we?”

  The five of us blink at him.

  Now we’re waiting for his explanation of the second option he mentioned. When it doesn’t immediately come, Celia prods him, “Or…?”

  “Or,” he squints at the stars, “she thinks little of herself and is searching for a man to give her life meaning, thinks that by offering her body to anyone who wants it, she could be happy. But she wrongly mistakes sex for love, which she truly wants in her heart, but doesn’t think she deserves. In such case she is still not a
slut, but a lost soul who needs healing and self-love in order to find what she truly desires. What we all truly desire. Connection based on respect, trust. Under the umbrella of those rare feelings is, of course, the desire for freedom to be who we truly are and be loved for it.” Tonk Jr. motions to me, palm up. “Sofia Sol is the first example.” He heads inside, shoving one hand in his khaki pocket as he opens the door. He utters a final, “There are no sluts.”

  We stare at the old screen slapping the doorjamb three times, like fading exclamation points.

  Celia, Sage and I exchange a look.

  But it’s Atlas who calls it out. “That guy isn’t like us.”

  My eyes flick to him. The sound of his voice hit me in an odd way, since tonight I heard him moan for the first time. He’s not just Atlas-who-I-grew-up-with anymore. We eye each other, trying to keep our faces blank, as Celia sighs, “My brother is an enigma, it’s true.”

  So as not to betray the secret, I tear my eyes away and land on his brother, because I can feel Luke is staring at me. Sure enough, his frown is trained on mine like he knows.

  An explosion of motorcycle engines shatters the silence. Three headlamps transform Luke and Atlas into shadowy silhouettes as Mom, Dad and Honey Badger rip up the gravel, speeding down the path and cutting hard turns onto our endless driveway. They’ll ride the streets of South Vacherie, Louisiana for a few hours, release the stress of being a parent. We all watch them, except for Luke.

  “What?” I demand. “Why are you staring at me?”

  He jogs his chin up and asks me point blank, “You bang someone tonight, Soph, is that what this was about?”

  “Yeah, because I hooked up with someone the cops came to our house.”

  “I don’t mean that.” He pulls at his wet shirt. “Did you?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Yeah, who cares,” Atlas punches his arm, sounding believable.

  On the heel of his heavy boot, Luke turns and walks off into the darkness.

  Breaking free of our circle, Sage chases after him. “Wait up!”

  To get Atlas away from me until I know how to handle this shift between us, I point to his siblings. “Aren’t you gonna join them?”

  His jaw ticks, then dips in agreement. He strolls off in an unhurried pace.

  A normal person would suggest they change into dry clothes, but there’s nobody here by that description.

  Celia runs her hand through her hair and holds it back while she eyes the trio like she wants to go along, but thinks better of it. “I wish I was closer to Tonk Jr., like those three are with each other. You ever wish you had a brother or a sister, Sofia Sol?”

  “I do have one. You. We’re better than blood. We’re sisters by choice.”

  A beautiful smile grows into a grin, happiness dancing in her eyes. “We choose everything,” she says, matter-of-factly.

  “Damn straight we do.” I slip my arm around her waist as we head to the old porch steps. “I’m starving. Think there’s any of Melodi’s jambalaya left?”

  “Nope.”

  “Bummer.”

  “You’re lucky I saved you some.”

  I fake surprise, because she always saves me some if I’m not around. “You did? You’re too good to me.”

  She smirks, “Damn straight I am.”

  Chapter 6

  SOFIA SOL

  After brushing my teeth last of anyone on our floor, I’m about to slip into the bedroom I share with Celia when Luke appears at the end of the hall. He doesn’t go into his and Atlas’s room right away. He pauses, stares at me, copper skin full of shadows and muscle, sharp cheekbones twitching and dark chocolate eyes intense.

  He has the gruffness of his father when he moves and when he talks. He didn’t used to, but when Honey Badger made him wait to become a true Cipher because he ‘felt too much’ and let things get to him, Luke toughened up. But there’s a restraint and intuitiveness that lives in him that will never go away, and that’s all Meg.

  I challenge him, voice barely a whisper so I don’t wake anyone. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Luke’s thick fingers pause on the doorknob and start to turn it, but release at the last second. He cocks his gorgeous head and strolls over to me, beefy legs kicking out with each methodical step.

  We haven’t broken eye contact once.

  Jogging his chin he asks with barely a sound, “Who was the guy?”

  Your brother.

  “Just some ranch hand over at Laurel house.”

  Or your brother.

  His head tilts to the other direction as he inspects me, not believing a word of what I just said. “Name?”

  “Juan.”

  He smirks, “Three Juans in a staff of twenty guys.”

  I shrug a shoulder. “Why do you care?”

  “The shorter Juan, the older Juan, or the skinny Juan who might be gay?”

  “We’re all a little gay, aren’t we?”

  Luke’s eyes glitter. “Not me. Not one bit.”

  My smile grows. “I know not you. I’m teasing you, because it’s so easy.”

  His right thumb unhooks from the faded denim pocket and that hand reaches for me, on its side, gliding just shy of touching my body like it’s heading for my face but in no hurry to get there. I flinch in surprise, which makes me angry. It shows weakness to be taken off guard. But Luke never touches me unless it’s with focus mitts or Thai pads.

  Those are the rules for us.

  We used to wrestle when we were kids, especially he and I since he was always surprised I could take him down—I’m not exactly tall—but the last time was when he was fifteen and he’s, what, twenty-seven now? It was when his limbs and chest really started filling out, when that kind of horsing around became a no-no as declared by my parents. You and Luke will only train with pads, punches and kicks, from now on, Sofia Sol. No more wrestling, choke holds, or ground work. Don’t give me that look, you heard me, Mom said, with Dad on a chair behind her, his legs sprawled and her planted between them. But his eyes were sharp and attentive even as he acted casual. I knew they’d discussed it. They had that, it’s-us-against-our-rebellious-daughter look they so often get. Drives me crazy.

  Tonight Luke seems like he’s going to break the barrier set by them all those years ago. It’s the second brother I’ve crossed a boundary with tonight, only this time I didn’t instigate it. And that makes me nervous, and a little too excited? My blood is racing.

  He cups my chin, lightly, callouses sending goosebumps dancing down my chest as the thick, dark fringe of his short eyelashes drops to watch. He leans close enough to kiss me if he wanted to.

  What is he doing?

  Seeing if I’ll smack him away?

  So he can laugh and say he got me good?

  Don’t let him kiss you.

  I just did a lot more with Atlas earlier tonight, and there’s no way this would be okay.

  “What?” I whisper, frozen.

  Luke touches the edge of my cheek, runs his fingers along my hairline and pushes my hair back to access my ear. My knees nearly buckle as the pads of his calloused fingertips brush my neck. It’s so soft I could pretend he caressed me by accident, but I don’t think that’s true. Directly into my ear he whispers, “Atlas was supposed to meet me in the marsh. Didn’t show. And when he did, do you really think I couldn’t tell that something was different about him?”

  “You’re crazy.”

  Goosebumps fly down my side as he holds there, his breath warm on my neck and making me ache against my will, heat pooling between my thighs. “Crazy, huh? That’s what people always say when you catch them after they’ve fucked someone they’re not supposed to.” He takes a sensually firm hold of my head to add, locking eyes with me, our mouths so close I can smell that he just had a shot of tequila, “You know what really pisses me off? Not that you weren’t supposed to do it. I’m jealous you chose him and not me. And I’m even more pissed that now it’s too late.”

 
He releases me and walks off, strides more emotional than before. Running a hand through his raven-black hair, he shakes his shoulders out like he’s trying to erase arousal, put me and that hot moment behind him.

  I’m stunned, and confused. Because he just called out my secret and gave me a new one…his. I don’t know how deep it goes but from the reaction I’ve had to it, I’m not sure I want to. Everything could change, and I want it to stay the same. I love this home, our home, just as it is.

  And yet I’m staring at Luke like I can’t stop.

  His doorknob gets the turning it was promised and Atlas’s dream-filled snores drift into the hallway. But before Luke Martinez vanishes into their bedroom, he throws me one last hungry glance like he might come back. His dark gaze slides down my body and slowly up again, lighting it up as if he were touching me. My lips are parted, breath held. His thick eyelashes fall as he shakes his head, disappears, and locks the door.

  It feels impossible to move. I have to force myself to break from the frozen position he left me in. My hands are weighted down as I reach for our antique doorknob and walk into our room.

  Inside, covering my mouth so I don’t wake Ceels, I gasp for air.

  The tiny nightlight we’ve had since we were little girls illuminates her beautiful profile. She must have changed the bulb because it was dark for a month plus. Seeing her sleeping only makes this harder than if I crawled into bed in pure darkness. I wish I could tell her the trouble I’ve caused. Share what Luke just confessed to me. Ask her why it upset me so much!

  My fingernails are impotent claws on the back of our door.

  What did he just do to me?

  For the first time in my life I feel regret for my actions.

  Chapter 7

  LUKE

  “What’re you guys giggling about?” I asked Soph and Celia when I discovered them on a couple of old chairs behind the garage.

  They straightened up, lost their teenage grins and eyed me.

  Ceels tugged on her messy braid. “None of your business!”