Cocky Biker: A Stand Alone MC Romance Novel (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 2) (7 page)

A
cup
of coffee is thrust into my hands and I look over. “Take it,” Honey Badger gruffly says. “You look like hell.”

“If I see another cop again…”

He nods and sits on the beige, uncomfortable hospital chair on the other side of Sunshine’s bed.

“Yeah,” he mutters, staring at her bandaged head.

I take a sip as I gaze at her. It tastes like nothing to me. My senses are dead. Everything feels like how she looks – colorless and empty.

“What’d the doctor say?”

I inhale and shake my head. “I’m waiting to hear. They just wheeled her in.”

Entering the room Fuse interjects, “Doctors are just educated guessers, that’s what my mom called them.”

I look over to see him carrying his bloodied jacket, his shoulder gauzed. “They fix you up?”

He shrugs and rips the small piece of tape off his nose. “Fuck this thing. First time I’ve been to a real doctor since I joined the club eleven years ago. Felt weird. Didn’t like it. But they did a cleaner job removing the bullet than you fuckers ever did.”

Honey Badger adjusts in his chair to ask, “Well?”

Fuse leans against a wall and hooks his fingers in his blood-spattered jeans pockets. We’re all covered. “After you guys finished answering all their fuckin’ questions, they double fact-checked everything, asking the same things to us. Course all our stories are the same, because we’re the fuckin’ good guys here, but they sure didn’t want to believe it, did they?”

We both shake our heads.

“Well, they’re real curious about The Ciphers now. I have a feeling word might spread. In a good way. Hell, who knows how that’ll pan out? Could put us up against other clubs. I don’t know. Then Scratch and Tonk wanted to see what would happen to the girls, so they’re at the precinct now. Said they’d call and find out where we are when they’re done. I guess Tonk took a liking to one of the women, and he’s real concerned over what happens to her after this. They don’t have families. Most of them are totally alone.”

Honey Badger and I look at each other as he tells me, “The one he consoled, probably, that’s the one. Fuse was in the other room kicking ass.”

“Right,” I mutter, looking back at Sunshine. Gently I lift her hand and hold it, closing my eyes. I have a strong feeling she’s gonna die on me. Never seen anyone this pale.

“Oh, here’s somethin’ interesting. That money she stole? The credit card thing?”

I look over at Fuse. “Yeah?”

“There was a van parked down from the palace of misery. It was stolen. Cops broke in right in front of us. Stacks of sealed up, brand new comforters.”

“What the hell?” Honey Badger asks, frowning.

I look at Sunshine again. “Fuck. She thought she was gonna save those women. The blankets were for them.”

Fuse’s voice is low as he explains, “Scratch figured that out, too. He told the cops. Adds to her being there for noble reasons. Clears any doubt of…” He trails off.

“Good,” I whisper, holding her hand to my forehead and closing my eyes.

Fuse and Honey go silent.

We stay like this.

From time to time I hear the slurping of coffee, but nothin’ else.

After who knows how long, footsteps, the door opening, and Scratch’s familiar voice, makes me turn my head. I feel stiff everywhere.

“Jett.” He lays a heavy hand on my shoulder. “We got a hotel room. Go get cleaned up.”

“I’m not leavin.’”

He wants to argue, but decides against it.

“Where’s Tonk?” Fuse asks while Honey waits by the door.

“It’s a fuckin’ mess with those women. Social services and detectives all over the place. Some of them have distant relatives; some even had parents who didn’t know where they were. Tonk’s askin’ about Carmen.”

“That’s her name?” Honey Badger asks.

“Yeah. She was clingin’ to him for dear life until the cops made her let go. She’s only eighteen.”

“You know that for sure?”

“Yeah. There were records of the girls. He demanded to know if she was underage on top of everything. Some of them were younger than eighteen when they got impregnated.”

“Fuckin’ animals,” Honey Badger growls.

“You said it. Carmen turns nineteen soon, so she wasn’t a minor. Tonk looked like he was gonna kill someone if she had been. He’s taken a real liking to the girl.”

The door opens again and a man in a lab coat enters.

I stand up for answers. “Is she gonna make it?”

He glances around the room. We’re a sight, the four Ciphers. Only our hands are washed clean. Fuse looks like a truck hit him. After him, I’m the worst and it’s mostly her blood.

The doctor pauses to gather his cool and turns wary eyes to me. “Look, it’s against our protocol to give you information when you’re not family.” He raises his hand as I begin to speak. “BUT I am making an exception. I heard about what happened. I think you guys deserve to know, after what you all did.” He glances around our somber faces. “She’s in a coma. The bullet skimmed the side of her skull. It didn’t hit her brain tissue, but there was internal bleeding. As a result, she’s in a coma and we don’t know any more than that.”

Grasping for straws, I ask, “She’s not going to die?”

“I didn’t say that. Not everyone makes it out of a coma. I’m sorry, but they are unpredictable. The body has gone to sleep to heal from the trauma, but she might not…I’m sorry.”

The Ciphers are all staring at me with stone faces. I blink back to her and rasp, “How long are comas? For how long? I mean, is there a normal amount of time?”

“People have come out in days, weeks, months…sometimes years. There’s still much we don’t know about them.”

“There’s still much you don’t know about a lot of shit,” Fuse grumbles.

The doctor pauses and glances over. He sighs. “True. But we will do the best we can to save her life. This is one of the best hospitals in the country.”

“Can she hear me?”

“People have reported hearing things when they were unconscious, yes. Not everyone, but I think it’s worth doing, just in case. It certainly can’t hurt.” He pauses, walking to thumb through her folder. “I thought you might want to know that we have to call her Jane Doe.”

My head whips to him and his steady gaze falters.

“What the fuck,” I growl.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cocker, but the police don’t have a record of her. There are no fingerprints in their system. She had no I.D. in her backpack or on her person.” He sees the storm brewing in me, and cautiously adds, “And they said you didn’t know her name.”

“Jesus,” Scratch mutters.

I grab the folder from him, looming over the guy. “Give me that pen.” Hesitating, he hands it to me. I cross out the fucking
Jane Doe
and scrawl above it,
Sunshine
.

“There. Call her that until she wakes the fuck up.”

Honey Badger looks over the doc’s shoulder and smiles proudly as the guy reads it, too. After a long beat, he does the decent thing. “I’ll have them change it in the system. We’ll print out a new one.”

Turning to her, I take a seat, pick up her hand and firmly tell the room, “Go.”

One after the other, they file out.

Scratch is the last one, and he walks over to pat my shoulder. “Call.”

I nod and wait until the door closes behind him.

“Sunshine, if you can hear me, you did good back there tonight. You did it. It’s over.” A lump tightens in my throat. “If you have to go now, I understand. You deserve to have whatever you want, but…I want you to stay.” Holding her clammy hand to my forehead, I close my eyes.

F
or the next few days
, I eat here in the room, watching her face and listening to the machine that’s breathing for her. The nurses brought me in a cot to sleep on. Every two hours when they come in, and it’s the same thing. They apologize for waking me and I tell them I wasn’t sleeping.

My brothers check on me during this time. Scratch tells me the story hit the Los Angeles Times: Who Are Your Neighbors Really?

The journalist left out the part about the Ciphers.

Fine by us.

We don’t want publicity.

Let the cops take the win. They sure fucking need one.

On day three, I hear the door open and at the sound of many heavy boots, I glance over to see all four Ciphers have come.

I blink at their determined expressions.

Fuse, Honey Badger and Tonk all cross their arms, and I notice their jackets are clean now. Fuse’s shoulder has the hole in it. He plans to leave it that way.

Scratch stands in front of them. “Time for a fuckin’ shower and some real sleep.”

“No.” I turn back to her.

A great force pulls me up from the chair and I fight off Tonk and Scratch.

“FUCKIN’ PUT ME DOWN!” Despite my exhaustion, I break my right arm free and punch Honey Badger as he moves in from the front to help.

He punches me in the gut and I double over. “JETT, GO TAKE A MOTHERFUCKIN’ SHOWER.”

Panting with Tonk and Scratch holding onto my arms, I glare at them. “What are you, my mothers?”

Fuse levels on me, leaning in. “You smell like shit. If she can smell, you aren’t doin’ her any favors by bein’ here like this.”

I hear the logic. But I don’t like it. Snarling, I tell them, “Let me go.”

“You gonna be a good boy?” Scratch asks.

I cut my eyes to him and see the smile in his.

“Fuck you. Fine.” Releasing me, they throw me my jacket. “Who’s stayin’ with her?”

“I will,” Tonk says. His eyes say I can trust him.

“Fine.” To the room, I growl, “Give me a minute alone with her.” They file out. Fuckin’ assholes.

I’ve been obsessed. Somewhere deep inside I know it, but the thought of leaving her alone is fuckin’ killing me.

But they’re right. I’m a mess. I’m no good to her like this. “Sunshine,” I say as I walk to her side and feel a lump forming in my damn throat. “Remember how I said it was okay to leave? Well, not yet. If you fuckin’ clock out while I’m gone, I will hunt you down in heaven and make you pay for that shit.” I lean over with tears in my eyes. “I mean it. Don’t leave yet. I’ll be back. Tonk’s gonna watch over you. Don’t you fuckin’ leave.” Kissing her cheek, I hold there. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to walk away.

I
t feels
like I’ve drunk five liters of Jack Daniels. I open my eyes, but nothing is in focus. There is a distant beep, but other than that, silence.

Is this a dream?

Shapes come into focus. A beige rectangle. A black square high above that. A huge white blob to my left.

Am I paralyzed?

Wiggling my toes takes everything I’ve got, but I do feel them moving.

It’s like this fog doesn’t want to leave.

I’m confused. Lost. Bone-weary.

My hand is warm. So are my thighs. They feel heavy as if someone is holding them down.

Am I chained up?

Did Matias’s men drug me?

I have to stay quiet in case they are listening.

If they think they’ve won, they’re wrong.

I will get out of here.

I will never give up.

Something is in my nose. It hurts. The white blur to my left becomes a curtain. I look down and see a bearded man sleeping on my legs. My hand is warm because his is. Our fingers are entwined. He looks familiar.

He looks like…

Oh…

I remember now.

I snuck into the mansion thinking I was being so sly. But they were watching me, acting like they didn’t see me coming. They tied me up. He sneered and wondered aloud what he should do to me. His bodyguards had waited, enjoying it.

Then the explosion of action. “Someone’s here!”

Matias rasped from his bed, “Go get whoever the fuck it is!”

I glared at him with the hate of all the women he’d hurt, glad to see him sick and frail with cancer. If I died that night at least I knew he’d follow soon after.

But that wasn’t enough.

One of those men was his son. I found that out when I was being gagged. He was due to inherit the business and perpetuate what they’d done. And then another man would take over. And another. And it would never end.

They had to die, but I didn’t know how. I had machine guns pointed at my head and no way to break free of the bindings, to grab them.

And then Jett appeared, with his Tasmanian Devil friend. He didn’t want me to do it. But then he found out the truth.

I pulled the trigger over and over. Turned and looked into his eyes and saw understanding and respect.

And it was done.

But where am I now? I don’t understand. Staring at him asleep on my legs, I try to speak but my mouth is dry. My jaw feels stiff.

Barely able to move my fingers, I squeeze his hand. Like a gun went off in the room, Jett sits upright and looks around. Then at me. His beautiful eyes go wide, staring at me with shock.

He jerks forward in his chair, clasping my hand to his hard chest as he reaches to touch my face. “Sunshine?”

I nod my head just a little; it’s all I can do.

A grin grows on his face and he shouts, “NURSE! NURSE!!!” His eyes go dark and he asks me, “Do you know who I am?”

Parting my lips, I painfully rasp, “Jett.”

He whoops and rises up, fist-pumping the air like an idiot.

“Water,” I whisper.

While still gripping my hand to his body, he cranes back to grab one from a rickety tray-table, and brings it to my lips. Lifting my other hand takes effort, but I do succeed in taking the small glass and nodding to him that I’ve got it.

“Holy shit, look at you!” he whispers like I just performed a miracle just by holding this cup.

“NURSE!!! SHE’S AWAKE!” he shouts at the door.

Swallowing is painful. I’ve never felt this way before. “Where are we?” I croak. “What happened?”

Those grey eyes of his cloud over as the smile disappears.

“Oh, Sunshine baby, you’ve been in a coma. You’ve been out for a long time.”

Fear pulls at me and all I can do is raise my eyebrows with the question I’m too frightened to ask.

Low and cautious, he tells me, “It’s been three months. Seven days.”

The door explodes with three nurses, and they all tell Jett to stand back. He doesn’t fight them, which surprises me. He and I are staring at each other as the nurses pull at cords attached to my body, fiddle with what I now realize is oxygen tubes in my nose. Doctors come in next. There is a lot of action. I’m questioned about whether or not I know who I am. I nod.

Then they ask me my name.

It’s Jett’s face I’m looking at when I answer, “Luna.”

His eyes fill with a man’s kind of emotion, the kinds that’s distant and full and confusing to him.

“What’s your last name?” the doctor asks.

Still on Jett, I whisper, “I don’t have one.” His lips tighten as he pushes off the wall.

“Alright, let her rest.”

The doctors don’t listen to him. He stands by as they inform him there are many things they need to check due to the severity of my head trauma. I have to wiggle toes and fingers for them. I have to recite dates. And finally when they’re satisfied, they tell us both I’ll have to stay to be supervised until they know it’s safe. As they file out, one of the nurse’s looks over her shoulder at Jett with a small smile. He doesn’t notice.

He pulls the chair back to my bed from where they moved it, and sits down, grabbing my hand immediately. “How you doin’?”

“Not used to the attention,” I whisper. He hands me more water and I drink it on my own. He takes it and sets it down and I notice his hand is shaking.

“Luna,” he murmurs to himself before he meets my eyes. “That’s the moon in Spanish?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the opposite of Sunshine,” he says with an attempt at a smile. Despite the effort, I can tell he’s shaken.

I get it. I don’t know what to do with him either.

“You called me that as a joke,” I whisper. It’s all I can do. My voice hasn’t been used in months and my throat feels terrible.

“At first.” He pauses. “Must be weird losin’ all that time.” I nod. “You want to know what happened?”

“Yes.”

The story unravels as he explains what he knows, from beginning to now. He’s a man, so the details are blunt and brief. When he tells me the women were pregnant, I gasp. His handsome face registers surprise. “You didn’t know that?”

“No.”

“You used to live there, didn’t you?”

Shaking my head a little, I rasp, “Different house. They were prostitutes. They all took the pill.”

I used to watch them take it every day, given to them like clockwork at eight o’clock every morning, like the drugs they give inmates in an insane asylum.

“What is that, Mommy?”

“It’s to make sure we stay in business, Luna.”

I only learned what that meant later on, when I was adult enough to understand.

“Why pregnant?”

Jett leans back in the chair. “You can make a lot more money selling babies. A lot of infertile women in the world dying to be mothers.”

Horror dives into my bloodstream. I remember the disappearing babies, the ones where the pill either didn’t work, or the women didn’t swallow. It must have given
him
the idea.

Jett rises from the chair and takes me into his arms. “Shhhh…it’s over.”

“Oh my God,” I stutter into the soft, black t-shirt. “He’s…so…evil!”

“He’s
dead,
Sunshine. He’s dead, baby. It’s over. You did it.” We stay like this until the sobs stop. Jett kisses my hair and looks in my eyes. “They’re safe now. A lot of them are reunited with family. Donations came in from all over. Some women got homes together.” I nod, sniffling. He reaches for a tiny hospital box of tissues and hands me one, shaking his head and muttering, “It’s a lot of fuckin’ therapy but they’re gonna be okay now.”

He gets up and walks to the door to make sure it’s closed. When he returns, I know something big is coming. In a low volume he tells me how his friends fixed it so I look like I was saving Matias.

Anger flashes into me. “I would never save him!”

“No no no!” Jett holds his hands up to stop me. “Don’t get excited. Think about where you’d be right now if we didn’t. With all those girls and the condition they were in? We had to call the police. We NEVER call the police. Understand? We had to make you the hero. Which you fuckin’ are!” He lowers his voice to somberly add, “But the law wouldn’t see it that way.”

I’m so upset. I know he’s right, but it still makes me furious for anyone to believe I’d come to that bastard’s aid.

“I’d rather be in jail.”

Jett goes for my hand but I tug it back. “Luna,
you
know the truth. That’s all that should matter. I stopped caring about what other people thought of me a long time ago.”

Meeting his eyes, I stare at him. He’s right.

I’m too stubborn to tell him that.

“You just called me Luna,” I whisper, glancing away.