Page 47 of Retribution
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dakota
Dakota wiped ather face with both hands. “Thanks for listening to me.”
“No problem, sweetheart. Don’t even think anything of it. You talk when you need to—I’m here.”
A small smile flew across her face. It was gone as soon as it appeared, but the feelings that came with it only shifted to the surface and wouldn’t be pushed down—even if she’d tried. A soothing sense of giddiness made her head light and fluffy with all of her thoughts spinning around, and Dakota couldn’t grab them. Calm flooded through her muscles like thick syrup as she dissolved back into his arms.
“Is this what trust feels like?” she asked as Cobra rubbed her shoulders with a sigh, neither of them looking at each other, their gazes fixed off into the distance.
“How the hell do I know?” Cobra laughed, raw and loud. “What I do know is that you aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met in my life. You keep me on my damn toes, and you scare the fuckin’ shit outta me, kid.”
“Same,” Dakota breathed out the word and licked her lips.
“You’re the first person I’ve talked to about this shit, you know.”
For some reason that shocked the hell out of her, and she physically jerked at the knowledge. Dakota knew he was quiet and withdrawn most of the time, but she also knew he had brothers in the MC and figured they must’ve heard some of his history over the years.
“I can’t believe your MC friends don’t know about your past,” she said.
Cobra shook his head back and forth. “When you’re an enforcer, people expect you to be untouchable, sweetheart. No room for a sob story background or drama bullshit. I used my demons to fuel my job.”
“That’s not fair to you. I’m sorry.” Dakota felt for him, knowing what it was like to keep deep, dark secrets and the need to continually run from them until the running had become her whole life. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Yeah.”
They sat together, wrapped in each other’s arms, ignoring the ticking clock that had followed them both through their lives. A push and pull with time that had marked every choice and defined every decision.
“This may seem like a weird question considering that we’ve been staying together for almost two weeks, but what exactly do you do for a living?” she asked, changing the subject from their tortured pasts to the present.
“Landscaping—a fancy word for mowing grass and trimming hedges. It pays for what I need. I’ve been a ‘Jack of all trades’ for a long time now.”
“But you’ve been visiting the MC too.”
“Are you asking if I do anything for them?”
Dakota nodded, her stomach churning and not entirely sure she wanted the real answer. Would it change her opinion of him, knowing he was back crushing skulls or other questionable activities?
“It’s complicated, but it’s also club business.”
“Which means?”
“It stays in the club with the brothers.”
She wrinkled her forehead and her mouth turned downward.
Cobra laughed. “That’s the way it rolls in the outlaw world, darlin’.”
He pulled back and rose to his feet then offered her his hand. Dakota stared at it, suddenly unsure if she was willing to join the real world again after everything they’d been through together in this place. Cobra must’ve picked up on her hesitation, because his brows rose slightly, and he cocked his head at her in a silent question.
“We can’t stay here forever. It’ll be time for me to take you to work soon.”
“Ugh, you’re right.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand as he pulled her up and led them both back to the bike. “They probably won’t be too understanding if I called in sick so soon on the job.”
He chuckled. “Probably not.” He swung his leg over the seat and straddled the bike. “We’ll grab barbeque for an early dinner, then I’ll take you to the ink shop.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she answered, sliding in behind him.
