SOFIA SOL

Celia rises from where she was watching television, and eavesdropping. There’s no wall between the TV room and our kitchen. I hang back for her, rolling my eyes as she asks, “Saved by the cops on that one, Soph. Who were you with?”

“A no-named nobody. It was boring,” I lie, never an easy thing to do to your best friend. I can’t tell her though, it wouldn’t be a secret for long. She’s too good-hearted and would wear it on her face every time Atlas and I were in the same room together.

Believing my story, she sighs and runs a hand through her black mane, her mixed-race skin the same golden brown as mine. Our moms are both Latinas, and best friends just like us, Dads white. “It couldn’t have been any worse than the show I was just watching. They regurgitate the same plots over and over. Do they think we’re stupid? Don’t coddle us. The American public is capable of more.”

“Amen.” We head down the hall, me chewing on my cheek. “Luke and Sage, have you seen ‘em?”

“Dunno. Probably with Atlas.”

Giving my arm a sniff I hold it up for her. “Do I really smell like sex?”

Celia leans her beautiful face in and sniffs around. “I don’t smell anything,” she shrugs. “But I have a cold.”

“Since when?”

“Woke up this morning with a stuffed nose. I think it’s because I was waiting for you to get back and I was worried.”

“You know you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Doesn’t stop me,” she mutters.

Our heads turn at my dad’s authoritative voice answering a question we missed. “We’ve been here for days, Officer. Someone lied to you when they said we were in Tennessee, but it’s not me lying. You know we’re not liars.”

Stone-faced, Celia and I join the others, but we can’t see over their heads. The Ciphers totally were in Tennessee, but we can’t let them know that. Otherwise all the celebrating we’ve been doing tonight would be for nothing as we were carted off to jail. Not like we’d go without a fight.

I back up a little so I can see inside our parlor, old velvet chairs comfy with wear around coffee tables scarred by decades of boots slung onto them in repose. By one of the old curtains Sage stares out the open window, her long, straight red hair and golden skin a mix of her mother and father, complete with Meg’s freckles. She feels me looking at her and waves us in. I give Celia’s elbow a tug. If Sage knew I was just fucking her brother, what would she say to me now? Certainly not, “Soph, the shorter cop is gorgeous, why don’t you ride him for a change? The ranch hands next door aren’t hot like that.”

Awkward.

“No cops for me, thanks,” I mutter, realizing she was eavesdropping on us in the kitchen. I’m just glad she wasn’t sneaking around the backyard a half hour ago.

I pull back the other curtain with Celia behind me, peering over my shoulder. The three of us girls admire the strong-jawed, charcoal-skinned, younger man.

Sage whispers, “Hot, right?”

Celia nods, “Very.”

He keeps his hand on his holster. Not sure if he’s ready to pull the gun out, or if that’s his normal resting state.

“I’ll get on his front to get him off our backs,” I joke under my breath.

The cops react as Atlas and Luke walk up the driveway behind them, because now there are bikers on all sides. Sage’s brothers, both with burnished copper skin, darker than hers because they take after Honey Badger way more than Meg. Except Atlas got the blue eyes.

Under the sliver of moonlight they look dangerous, walking with raw, effortless sex appeal showcased by jeans torn to expose skin, but not on purpose, and matching white tank tops stained ages ago with engine oil wiped from their hands.

For some reason their clothes are drenched, plastered to their bodies, raven-black hair hanging to their lower backs in dripping sheets. Meg never wanted to cut it when they were young and they stuck with that, trimming once a year or so, just to clean the ends.

That cop might be cute, but he’s got nothing on the Martinez boys.

Sage mumbles, “What have they gotten into? They’re soaked to the bone!”

Luke’s sexy smile flashes as he holds up his hands to reassure the jittery policemen, “Whoa, we’re part of the family here. Don’t want any trouble.”

Atlas says in a louder voice, “Not that you’d believe us.”

The girls and I exchange a look.

Cops shouldn’t believe us.

We all lie to their faces without blinking, every chance they give us.

The older, red-faced officer drawls, “Where you boys been now? Up to no good?”

Luke is the older of the two, the leveler head, but barely, and he cuts Atlas off by quickly answering, “There was a alligator in the marsh at the front-end of our property. We tried to catch it. Fucker was strong!”

Atlas chuckles, “He tried. I arrived just in time to tell him he was a moron.”

“But then you got in there with me!”

“I did,” Atlas grins.

Sage leans toward me, whispers, “What are you thinking about?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got this weird smile on your face.”

Searching for a believable answer, I hold her curious stare. “This family entertains me, that’s all.”

A grin appears, one just like Luke’s, only after two painful years of braces. “Knock it off. Put your poker face on.”

Celia says, “You’re one to talk,” jumping to my defense with a pinch on Sage’s hip.

“Ouch!”

“Shhh.”

The three of us go back to watching.

With hands still on their holsters, the cops glance around the group. This many bikers surrounding them—they don’t know what’s going to happen. “You just stand over with your friends there,” drawls the pasty-faced cop.

“They’re our family,” Atlas corrects him, “Not our friends.”

Luke’s eyes deaden like he wanted to say the same, but his desire for the cops to leave, is greater. “You got it officer, don’t want to make you nervous.”

This ticks the older cop off. “You don’t make me nervous, boy!”

“Mission accomplished then.”

Dad notices the cop about to lose his temper, and I watch him become the Jett Cocker his family back in Atlanta never sees. There he’s the black sheep, the wild card, but in this house, this family, he’s our rock. “Officer, don’t mind them, you remember how it was when we were in our early twenties. All ego, no brains.” A smirk flashes like it’s an inside joke between him and the ruffled man. “Let us handle the boys. We’ll do more damage than you’re legally able to.”

Unruly eyebrows shoot up and a satisfied smirk appears. “I don’t doubt it!”

They both laugh.

I glance back to Celia and we shake our heads.

Sage whispers, “Look at how the other cop has kept his cool. He’s so handsome.”

“You want me to introduce you?”

She wiggles her eyebrows and quips, “Yes, please, Soph, hook me up!” thinking I’d never do it so it’s safe to tease.

Oh, Sage, you should know me better than that.

I spring up, rush out, and push through the others in our enormous foyer. Sage is right behind Celia who’s right behind me. Serves her right for hesitating in shock. Gotta have quicker reflexes than that if you wanna stop me from making you squirm.

“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.