Tonk Jr. (Cocker Brothers Book 19)

by Faleena Hopkins

  “He’s not going to bother you again.”

  Through tears she smiles with hope in her eyes, and that’s the first time I’ve seen it.

  I had something to do with that.

  Daniel groans, “What the fuck happened?” rubbing the back of his head as he surveys the scene. “Who’re you?”

  My father bucks his chin in greeting. “I’m that guy’s dad. Tonk Senior. You Dan? Nice to meet you.”

  My black jeans, black tank-top wearin’, leather booted sis opens her mouth to introduce herself, but I beat her to it. “And that’s my sister Celia holding Celia.”

  Her eyes go wide before they drop down to look at her little namesake.

  Well not really, but I like to think this coincidence happened for a reason. Especially after how my sister came into the world.

  If I get my way I’m going to raise that little baby as my own, just as my dad raised Celia despite the fact that she wasn't his, either. That story got me to New York, and I’ll have to tell Stacy it someday.

  “Dad,” Ceels says with warning in her tone.

  He nods, “Have to call the cops, yeah. Tonk Jr.? You know what to do?”

  Sitting up I wince. “You were never here.”

  He walks over, legs bowed, stride confident. He offers me his hand and helps me up. “You did good, son.”

  My chest tighten with emotion. “Thanks, Dad.”

  CHAPTER 10

  STACY

  T he ambulance arrives at the same time as the cops. Tonk’s father and sister disappeared. They said they would be back and it was all so mysterious.

  I saw the family resemblance in Celia, but Tonk is not like either of them in personality or presentation. They were so gritty and he’s so clean. But even with their edges the energy had a light behind it. Unlike with Victor who was just plain evil. I think if you dabble with darkness in mind and action long enough it consumes you. And the opposite happens with light. It elevates you.

  I don’t know why Tonk’s being so kind to me. Lying for me. Fighting for me. Shooting for me.

  Yes, I feel a current between us, too. It’s palpable. But I can’t believe this could ever last. I’m not that lucky. How could I ever look into Tonk’s sweet face and feel like he shouldn’t be with somebody better.

  One of the police officers is going over the details of how we got here. “So you said her boyfrie—”

  “EX boyfriend,” Tonk corrects them.

  “Right. He followed you here, broke into the building, and then two guys he owed money to came in and kicked the shit out of him just in time while he was attacking you?”

  “That’s right.”

  Daniel nods, “And it’s a good thing too. That guy knocked me out so hard I was out for all of it. I couldn’t help, so they showed up just in time. Karma, right? All I know is I woke up and he was on the ground a real mess, and Tonk’s head looked like that.” He points at the crusted hair.

  The police officers look at me for confirmation of what Tonk and Daniel are saying. With Celia sleeping in my arms I nod and stay quiet.

  The female police officer tilts her head a little. “Was this the first time he hit you?” It’s in her eyes that she doesn’t believe it was.

  With my lips pursed in shame I shake my head a little and hang it to stare at my daughter’s quiet breathing.

  “I have a phone number you can call. There are other women who have been where you are, and this organization will help you heal, if you want to move past this.”

  “Of course I do.” I surprise myself at the harshness with which I said that. But I was defending my future.

  Tonk holds my eyes before he asks them, “Is there anything else?”

  “We have your information. Someone will be in touch.”

  The woman asks me, “You want to prosecute?”

  “Yes!”

  “Some don’t.”

  “I want him to stop hurting people.”

  Before they disappear, the male cop points at Tonk. “You should go to the hospital to see if you have a concussion.”

  “I will. I’m going to shower up first.” The door clicks and Tonk walks over to touch Celia’s sleeping head, his voice gentle as he tells me, “You know what’s really amazing? She’s young enough that this is not going to affect her as much as it could have. She won’t remember it.”

  Daniel mutters, “Except at some point she’s going to realize who and what her father is.”

  Tonk’s warm brown eyes are thoughtful as they rest on me. “By that time she’ll have been so loved she’ll be able to handle it. And if I’m lucky enough to be there, I will explain it to her in a way that she can understand. I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”

  “If she’s lucky,” I correct him, my voice quiet.

  He frowns at me as he traces my cheek. “Don’t worry. I have a feeling this is all going to be very good.”

  A strong sensation pulls open my heart and at first I don’t recognize it, couldn’t explain it to anybody if I tried, not even myself. It isn’t until I see Tonk come out of the shower wearing fresh slacks with his hair wet as he buttons up a shirt for his hospital visit, that I feel it again so strongly it’s impossible not to be able to define it. It’s hope. I feel hope again.

  A knock at the door brings a smile from his face because it was distinctive by two knocks then a pause. Then three knocks. “That’s my family.”

  Daniel opens it. “I need a bong hit.”

  Tonk’s dad hears this as he strolls in and a smirk tugs at his lips. He’s a handsome man, grey hair, blue eyes, very tall. It looks as if he works out every day for four hours. Celia is a beautiful girl, half-Latin like her brother, and they both have warm brown eyes and deeper brown hair. She’s more muscular than he is and looks like she should be in an action film. His father, too, especially with his leather jacket that has a C patched onto the sleeve, the back reading The Ciphers.

  “Look at you, all cleaned up.”

  “How did you guys know to come here?”

  Celia walks over to where I’m sitting on the couch with my daughter, and as she passes Tonk she explains, “When you told me it was a domestic violence situation, red flag. I mean, I know you’re a badass,” she quickly adds like she doesn’t want me to think he isn’t one. “I just wanted to come up to New York and check on you.”

  His father looks in the refrigerator, “And I was just in the neighborhood. Why is there no food?”

  Daniel raises his hand. “Oops.”

  Tonk Jr. looks at me with concern because now I’m aware he’s been discussing me. But these people don’t act like it’s any big deal, and that’s so confusing.

  There’s no pity in their eyes.

  He starts explaining, “I asked my sister for her advice when I suspected what was…”

  “It’s fine. I’m so grateful. It’s okay.”

  “I was talking about a highly personal aspect of your existence without your permission. But it was right after we met. I spotted a bruise on your arm.” I nod once that I remember that moment. I wanted to run under a rock and stay there forever. It wasn’t even that big of a bruise, but the way he looked at me expressed he understood more than I wanted him to. And I felt like it was wrong to lie to him.

  I’d lied to so many other people without a problem, but when he asked, it was like he looked into my soul.

  He’d know if I was lying.

  My daughter's eyelashes flutter open to discover Tonk’s sister smiling at her. “Look at you, little beauty. Aren’t you a sight after a long ride.” She looks at me. “We live in Louisiana but we drive all over the states helping people. You may have noticed we’re not the least bit shocked by what’s happened to you. Some people like him can’t be understood—only dealt with. Understand? What happened to you, it’s over. Do you mind if I pick her up?” I shake my head and his Celia lifts my Celia, cooing and wrapping tiny fingers around her much longer ones, both a similar shade of dark gold. “What a strong grip you have
, oh my goodness, yes you do. Oh look, she smiled!”

  That makes all of us.

  Tonk Sr. inspects his son’s head. “You don’t have a concussion. This is no bump. The gash isn’t bad. Little pressure and some ice should do.” He lowers his voice to a more private volume. “I know I said it before, but when we were driving around killing time with the cops here, I thought about what you did some more. I can’t tell you how proud I am, Junior. I mean it. This was a big deal, and you pulled it off.”

  A smile tugs at the corners of Tonk’s mouth and their history gleams from his warm brown eyes. He nods his thanks and I get the feeling he did that manly gesture on purpose. A nod sufficed.

  Sufficed.

  Vic would’ve hated that word.

  Fresh air fills my lungs as I realize that a man like Tonk won’t be afraid of my intelligence. Dare I even imagine what it would be like to have conversations for a lifetime with him? I could debate things and he would talk to me on any subject. I can tell.

  But it’s just too scary to get my heart involved all the way. It will take me a long time to trust again.

  I hope he has the patience.

  I hope I don’t fail him.

  Walking to me he squats and asks, “You okay if I don’t go to the hospital? Will you worry? Because I can go if that will make you feel better.”

  I stare at him a moment and slide off the couch to melt into his body, sliding my arm around him and closing my eyes against his clavicle as he sits back on the floor and holds me tight. “Why are you so nice to me?”

  “Because I like you.” He kisses the top of my head as I feel his chest rising with steady breaths.

  “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me,” I whisper.

  He strokes my back. “Shhhh, don’t ever think that again. I wanted to do this. I needed to. You know what I don’t want? You apologizing. You have nothing to say you’re sorry for.” He cranes his head, eyes sparkling with humor so he can make me feel better. “Unless you leave me tomorrow. That would suck.”

  Shaking my head I bite my smiling lip. “I guess I won’t say I’m sorry again.”

  His sister makes a noise like she’s never seen anything cuter. “Tonk, just in case you are wondering, not like you ever cared about my opinion, but in case you do…I like her. And of course I’m already in love with my mini me.”

  Tonk Sr. laughs, “Careful, she might try to convince you guys to come back to Louisiana so the kids can grow up together.”

  Tonk jokes, “Let me just get packed.”

  Celia hands my daughter to her dad. “Look at what a little angel she is.”

  Cradling her he mutters, “Then she shouldn’t share your name.”

  Celia smacks him and he laughs.

  His weathered features soften as tiny fingers reach in the air. Enamored is the only way to describe his face as he stares at her and tells his son, “Yeah, you did real good.”

  CHAPTER 11

  STACY

  Three days later.

  It’s Sunday morning at the coffee shop around the corner from where we live, Tonk’s favorite place to start a day. He has my daughter on his lap while he enjoys a café mocha. She’s making all kinds of happy noises today. I’m sipping chamomile tea and hiding my smile behind my white cup.

  “Stacy, it might be my imagination or my ego, but I think she’s really starting to like me.”

  I know the feeling.

  “It’s not your imagination. But it is your ego.”

  His head throws back on a laugh, brown eyes sparkling as they look over to the door. Because of his changed expression, I follow his gaze and see a girl walking in with two armloads of multicolored tulips wrapped in twine and brown paper.

  It’s like someone bagged spring.

  I start to tell him how pretty they are when she surprises me by walking to our table and asking, “Stacy?” her ponytail finally settling down.

  “Yes?”

  Her coiled arms unwind and suddenly I am holding the flowers, shocked as I see Tonk's pride smiling back at me. The girl flips around, ponytail smacking the side of her head on her way out.

  My mouth could hold a tennis ball. “For me?”

  Tonk turns Celia around and stands her up as she kicks his legs. He lifts her hand to make her wave to me. “Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy.”

  Oh my gosh, how I melt. “For me? Tonk, I can’t believe it. They’re gorgeous!”

  “I got all they had. It’s your special day. You made this little one right here.” He raises her arms and she smiles at me.

  I laugh and drop my gaze to their beauty. It’s like looking at my new future, one so bright and colorful it’s hard to believe. This is just one more display of his kindness.

  He’s been so careful with me.

  Thoughtful.

  Easy to be around.

  We haven’t had sex. These first few nights when we’ve gotten ready for bed, he’s warned me that his head is healing and he needs time. I know he does that so I don’t have to ask for patience.

  We’ve stayed up late getting to know each other, telling stories from our childhoods, and expressing our dreams that we had long before we met. I told him I dreamed of being a travel journalist, but turns out I get sick on planes. I also hoped to have a restaurant that made the best grilled cheese—that dream I had at age ten.

  He wanted to be a researcher when he was twelve. Then scientist. Philosopher came next. And when that goal dissipated, he waited until he found a calling, reading and getting by on acquiring knowledge and living a peaceful life among wild people. They brought him constant entertainment, so he never needed a television show to occupy his time. He told me how he found his calling and I wanted to hug his sister when I heard it.

  Spooning with him while we slept has been perfect. At first I slept tense. But last night I relaxed more, and when I woke up today, Tonk and I were pretzeled. It felt really great.

  “There are so many of them it’s hard to get up so I can kiss you and thank you!” As I stand, I overdo it, wrestling and grunting. He laughs, which is what I wanted. I love his laugh. It’s not a snicker, the kind I used to hear. I can’t imagine Tonk ever making that unattractive sound. He could never enjoy other people’s pain or embarrassment, especially if he were the cause.

  He takes a crinkly-papered bundle from me so I can hold my daughter in one arm. “Thank you for the flowers, Celia,” I smile. “This was very thoughtful of you.” Her eyes focus on the colors, fingers pulling at petals as she tugs one off and offers it to me. “Thank you! I love this. You’re so sweet!”

  As she stays occupied with the bundles, I gaze from her to the other miracle in my life, and mouth, Thank you.

  His smile becomes intimate as he leans close to kiss me, but hovers an inch away. Neither of us move until we start to laugh. He suddenly presses warm lips to mine, inspiring tingles in all the right places. Our mouths sensually open as we both want more.

  “Tonk, you dog!”

  We separate and look over as he greets his friend, “Allen!”

  “You got the girl! I remember when he first saw you. I’m Al, Tonk’s best friend in the whole world.”

  “Oh, come on!”

  “I am!”

  “When did you start going by just Al?”

  “It’s got a better ring to it. Al’s your buddy. He’s your pal! It’s light and airy, like me!” He points at himself, eyebrows wagging. “Look at these flowers? You do this, Tonk? I need to take lessons from you.”

  “I’m Stacy,” I smile as we shake hands.

  “And who’s this happy baby?”

  “That’s my daughter, Celia.”

  “Hi Celia! How’re you today?”

  Her head swings from me to him, to the flowers, and she says, “Mah.”

  I gasp, heart jumping into my throat as Tonk and I lock eyes. He’s just as excited as I am. “Did you hear that?” I ask him just to make sure I wasn’t crazy. “She called me Mom! Her first word was Mom.”

&nbs
p; Tonk kisses the top of her head, his eyes on me, so smooth and sparkly they look like dark caramel. Kissing me, he escalates the warmth in my heart to another level, pulling back to smile, “Happy Mother’s Day.”

  CHAPTER 12

  STACY

  I t’s almost June, and I feel like I’m ready. There have been many times when I almost told him I was, but then I worried about crying during it, or stopping him, or just plain having my past experience taint our first one.

  Daniel is on a date as we get ready for bed, and Celia fell asleep tucked into the back of the couch, so the apartment is quiet.

  He opens the refrigerator for my glass of water from the purifier—one of the few luxuries he likes to have. The Ciphers are funding his schooling and lifestyle, and Tonk never takes it for granted.

  “Al has a dodgeball game planned for next weekend. He knows a lot of people. Would that be something you’d be interested in?”

  “Let’s put Celia’s crib outside of our door for a little while tonight.”

  Tonk’s pour freezes, little drops splashing into my glass. He locks eyes with me, his color deepening. “You sure?”

  Biting my smile, I nod. “You look awfully cute in those boxers.”

  He returns a sexy smile and puts the pitcher back in the fridge as he says, “I was thinking about what color panties you were going to sleep in tonight. Which ones are you wearing under those sweats?”

  “Red.”

  “No way.”

  “I bought them when you were at class two days ago.”

  He blinks at me, and walks my glass over. I take it and he pulls me in for a kiss, our tongues licking and teasing with a new feeling behind them—anticipation.

  “Stacy,” he rasps, gazing at me with a frown, “If you need more time.”

  I kiss him quiet, and slip my fingers into his soft hair, caressing his scalp as his hands slide down my back. He’s never let himself explore me. His palms slide flat, and then firm fingers give both my cheeks a squeeze, pulling up as our kiss deepens. He starts massaging, inspiring an ache between my legs. I get closer to him, press my breasts into his hard chest and feel the length of his bulge push into the soft cotton sweats I seem to live in when we’re at home.