Page 34 of Cocky Secrets

It’s not about me, to them.

And now I remember why.

It’s about the people they save by any means necessary, always under the Law’s radar, always secretly and often illegally. If a cop comes into the fold, how could they continue to do what they do? Who would suffer more, me from not having Bear in my life, or the countless innocents who would no longer have saviors?

Absorbing reality I whisper, “I understand,” realizing they don’t hate cops. They used the example of crooked cops for a viable reason with which to make Bear go away. It’s easy for an M.C. toact as ifthey don’t like cops. Easy for Bear to believe and accept that, and not look deeper.

They know there are plenty of good cops out there, but cops can’t know what The Ciphers do because they vowed to uphold the law.

So if Bearisa good one, that’s almost worse than a police officer who would look the other way.

But maybe he would!

Maybe he would look the other way, forme.

My father’s head looks like it might explode, so Jett takes charge, announcing with authority, “It’s time to go, Sage.”

I nod, and feel Bear’s hand take mine. Our eyes lock. “Sage. Don’t give in.”

I whisper, “I’m so sorry,” and release his hand, walking to the burgundy beast, refusing to see it now as my jailor.

Putting on my helmet, I shakily climb on and wait for The Ciphers to ignite their motorcycles. One by one, they ride out of the parking lot as the locals, Viola and my handsome Bear, watch.

Sofia Sol locks eyes with me as she rides by, and she lets me see her sadness. Celia silently mouths, “I’m sorry,” and revs her throttle to catch up.

Dad hangs back until I join the line, second to last, with him behind me, behind us all, our fearless protector.

I cast one last look to Bear. He dips his chin slightly in salute, amber eyes stormy with rebellion.

This isn’t over.

FOURTEEN

Sage

The night air is thick as I step into our sprawling garage that doubles as The Cipher’s second home base. Sure, the living room is the most used, but the garage is where they spend a lot of time, and I suspect, feel most at home, surrounded by motorcycles and grit.

Flickering lights cast shadows that dance to Classic Rock along walls adorned with extra helmets, tools, shelves of fluids meant to make engines purr. The roar of laughter and clinking bottles echo around me, a stark contrast to the tension I felt from my family earlier. They think the ‘threat’ is over. They saw me give in. But did I? I meant it with all of my heart when I vowed that it’s Bear and I against the world. Now I just need an ally. Who better than the one most against us?

“Hey, Sage!” a few voices call out.

“Hey,” I smile, feigning being okay. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, and I can feel the weight of our earlier confrontation pressing down on my shoulders. I barely register their faces as I make my way deeper into the heart of the immense garage. It was once an extra building, maybe horses stables? Members of the club converted it long before my time.

I spot my brother Atlas leaning against one of the bikes, his muscular frame relaxed but expression serious. As usual. He’s always been my protector, the one who stood up for me when I was super little and didn’t have the toughness the others seemed born with. Since I became an adult though, his protection has become a leash. No one would suspect it, if I could get him on my side.

“Atlas!” I call out, smiling, approaching him with a hidden mix of hope and desperation.

He looks up, face unreadable. “What’s up, Sage?”

“I need to talk to you,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper as I glance around to ensure no one else is listening. “It’s about what happened earlier.”

Atlas straightens, the easygoing demeanor shifting slightly. “What do you need to talk to me for?”

“Can we go somewhere else?” I ask with a shrug, like this is really no big deal.

Curious, he nods and we make our way out. No one even asks where we’re going because every single one of them knows that Atlas is my most vigilant jailor. There’s no way we’re up to something, other than maybe getting some food. Nothing suspicious.

My brother and I walk into the backyard, far from earshot of anyone, moonlight our guide. I glance toward the house, see Melody and Carmen illuminated through the kitchen window, moving comfortably around as they prepare tonight’s meal. Mom is nowhere to be seen. She’s been cast out of cooking duties after Melody tasted her pasta sauce and it was damn good. Too good.

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