Jett waits as we exchange glances of connection and interest.
It’s what Ciphers do, fight for those who can’t.
Only we do it together in an organized way.
Adjusting his shoulder to continue, our President holds his hand out, palm down, fingers as steady as if he were holding a weapon. “Problem is, the kid lives among normies. His brawls are making them nervous.” Louder grunts from the older Ciphers who grew up in normie-households. They found the Ciphers and joined as adults. Sofia Sol, Tyler, Atlas, Sage, Luke, Tonk Jr, Shay, Mylar, and I were born into this wild life—none of us have ever tried to be normal.
Jett’s handsome face explodes into that famous cocky smile, all confidence and sneakiness. “Yeah, we know something about normies getting upset by the things we do!” Most everyone cheers. Some just smile, like me.
My mind is on Atlas, as usual. And I can’t stop glancing over for his reaction to gauge it.
Jett’s voice pulls my attention back as he gets serious. “This is how it’s gonna go down. The kid is waiting for my call. Name’s Sean. I’ve been given a code-word to use so that when I phone him up he knows it’s me.” Under his breath, Jett grumbles, “Leave it to my daughter to come up with this shit.” Louder he goes on to explain, “I’ll invite Sean here. Check him out. If I like him enough to give him a shot, I’ll introduce him to you all. Then he’ll stay a while. We’ll watch him. Train him. Slowly. See what kind of man we’re dealing with. This kid might be a fucking punk we’ll throw back into the water. And since we’re a family, a democracy, it will come down to a vote. Majority wins.”
Honey Badger rumbles, “When’s the vote gonna be? How long until he’s done?”
Grey eyes shimmer under a cocked eyebrow. “When I fuckin’ say he is.”
CHAPTER 2
SEAN
Hope.
That’s what I have now.
A glimmer of it only, but it’s there.
They said to train while I wait for their call. I’m in pretty good shape to start with. Breaking a sweat, I feel I’ve accomplished something. Clears my head of the demons—those fucked up voices that tell me on a daily basis that nothing I do matters. You’re worthless. Can’t keep your mouth shut. Can’t fit into the mold they made for you. So what if it doesn’t fit? Get smaller. Conform. Stop fighting. Give in. Why not just look the other way like everyone else?
I hate those voices.
Hate isn’t a strong enough word.
It makes sense to hide in my video games.
Hell, it’d make sense to lose myself in booze, drugs, food, sex.
Life is hard when you’re different, like me.
But I keep thinking there’s gotta be a better way.
Then they gave me hope, those two Ciphers who came to my mom’s home. She’d sent them here for me. Didn’t even give me a heads up. Just sent them knocking with patches on their leather jackets and meticulous methods of walking, talking, entering our home, that told me to watch myself—they could be dangerous if they wanted to be. Even the girl. Especially the girl, since she was so beautiful you’d lose sight of her fists.
They explained while I listened like my life depended on it, that there might be a place for me to scratch this itch. That how I’ve been fucking up, might be useful to them. This mouth of mine, my need to defend even when it costs me my job, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in their world. I might be able to save the innocent.
Hope.
That’s what they left behind when they walked out.
Hope.
I’ve been in the backyard training since they left a couple days ago, practicing the videos he suggested I research. It’s tough without a partner. No mirrors in our backyard to show me if I’m even doing it right. Just some weights, a leather punching bag, and birds chirping in the maple trees, egging me on. My adrenaline goes in spikes and valleys with each passing hour that my phone doesn’t ring. Is this part of the test? Make me wait? Or is the call never gonna come...
With every push-up I shove doubt down.
Mom calls through the open glass doors, knife suspended from slicing tomatoes, “Honey, your phone’s ringing on the charger!”
Rushing inside I snatch it from the counter beside her, and see a Louisiana area code glowing from the screen. My heart punches my ribs as I answer, “Hello?”
The voice is deep, “Sean?” like I’m a sleeper-spy receiving that crucial call that activates me, changes my life forever.
“Yeah, this is Sean. Who’s this?”
“Jett Cocker.”
I glance to my mother and nod that it’s him. She’s holding her breath, sets the knife on the cutting board with her hand pressed flat over the handle.
“How do I know it’s you? I was told there would be a password.”
Silence. He clears his throat. “Code word is…Tickles.”
My eyes close with relief, and a smile tugs at my mouth. Guy hated saying that. Sofia was probably fucking with him when she invented it. Makes me like her even more than I did instinctively. She sang to my mom’s cat. What’s not to like?
I keep my voice sober, clear of the relief I feel. “That’s the password. I’m glad you called. What do you need me to do?”
“Pack some things. Not much. I want to meet you in person, see who the fuck you are. My daughter was the first toll. I’m the gate you need to pass, understand?”
“Yes.”
I write down the location of the Ciphers home, tear it off the notepad and lock eyes with Mom as he tells me I’m to show within
