Page 5 of Cocky Secrets

We do things cops would lock us up for.

For life.

Were I stronger, my fingers would break this handle, knuckles gone pale. “Not all cops are safe, Vi.”

“Don’t I know it.” She cocks an experienced eyebrow, “But this one is. Bear fought in court to protect Billy Mae’s friend whose step-father was doing horrible things to her. That’s just one story I could tell you about him. There are many.”

And I want to know them all. So he lives in town. Not surprising we’ve never met. Unfortunately I can’t agree to his offer, though I badly want to. My brothers would kill me, not to mention Dad. Honey Badger Martinez loathes the police with a passion. The Ciphers all know it. He lost his mind when I got the phone number of that handsome police officer Celia and Sofia Sol pushed me toward. Readying myself for disappointment, Irun my tongue along my teeth. “Buy the canvas and it’s a deal.” Oops.

I point to the one I’ve always wanted.

He gives a low chuckle. “I have to buy my own canvas?”

“For asking, you now have to buytwo. And if you think I’m being unfair, I bought the paints. This world is give-take. Not take-take.” I push hard and fast on the door, send the bells shouting. How’s that for giving Vi some business?

Outside, the warmth before sunset is nothing compared to that which is in my core. I slide onto my bike, very aware of the shape of my seat between my legs.

As I’m about to ride off, the man named Bear appears in front of me, bells warning trouble ahead. “Your number?”

Damn. And here I thought I had the perfect exit. Kinda would help if I knew where to go.

“Give meyouraddress and I’ll meet you there tomorrow. Unless you work Saturdays?”

Amber eyes turned bronze by sunlight, shimmer at me. “Night shift. Start at six.”

“Noon then.”

Another smirk before Bear disappears inside, and time stands still until he returns with a new leather-bound notebook. “For you. My address is written on the first page. Noon tomorrow.”

“You bought this for me?”

“Yes. I’ll expect nothing in return. Because sometimes the world is give-give.”

Lightning ignites my veins as I take my gift and murmur, “Thank you,” unaware I have ham sandwiches as my dinner’s future.

I ride home.

Dreamy.

Blissful.

Italian food completely forgotten.

THREE

Sage

Ican’t sleep, tossing and turning for hours. It’s after two o’clock in the morning now, and I sigh and stare at nothing, not even at the beauty of my bedroom’s painted walls.

My room used to be Tonk Jr’s bedroom, years ago, before he went to New York City to study Family Counseling and Trauma Therapy, and never came back except for the major holidays, when we treasure him. I should go to New York someday. Visit him. I always said I would.

After he moved out, I made this room my own, not a sign of him left except for the fact that I kept his bed, left it in the same position, but painted it swathed in rose petals. The walls I covered with abstract Morning Glory vines, blue-purple flowers perpetually open displaying their magenta-lined star inside, just a dot of the palest yellow for each pollen center. In the corners of my room and around the door I painstakingly sketched in colors of clay Roman columns, more realistic, less abstract, as if I’m not in a small bedroom in Louisiana at all, but instead lounging in an outdoor patio from another time. The wall across from me features a city far below the mountain my imagination painted me onto. But the ceiling is my favorite. Half of it is forever daytime with fluffy clouds, a bright yellow and orange sun,seagulls scanning the territory for their next meal. The other half is forever night with a flood of stars keeping the new moon company.

And while it’s all lovely, it’s doing nothing tonight to calm me down and grant me the blessed sleep I long for.

Onto my side I turn once more, elbow bent, hand under my head, staring into a future where I’ll be painting a naked man I just met. Even with Viola’s sanctioning, it is dangerous of me to attempt it.

It’s so exciting.

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