“I’m a tattoo artist.” Dakota darted her gaze around the room then back to him. “I’ve got an interview with a new shop manager in town.”
Cobra shifted and cleared his throat. “I can give you a ride.”
“Considering my car crapped out on me, that would be great. Do you live here?”
“For now.”
“You’re not one for divulging information, are you?”
No answer.
“Is this where you’ve been staying?”
“Nah. I just got the place today.”
“Where were you before, or should I ask who was the lucky woman?” She laughed but he didn’t join in.
“I was camping. In the summers, I like to live outdoors.” His eyes never wavered from her face.
“So what do you do?”
“For now, I work outside.” Ready to ask another question, she opened her mouth, but he held up his hand. “Enough.”
“Just one more. Please?”
That tenderness she’d seen earlier when she asked nicely came back and he nodded.
“Do you still do stuff with your MC?”
The softness disappeared in less than a heartbeat and it was replaced by asperity. Cobra didn’t utter a word.
A brick wall might as well have been erected in the middle of the room. Dakota blew out a breath and closed her eyes as shades of red swam behind her eyelids. If he wanted to keep his secrets, that was fine with her, especially since she was carrying around her own as well. She leaned back against the headboard and her lids fluttered open.
“When should I expect that you’ll be gone then? In case I need a ride or I have somewhere I need to be …”
“I freelance. I’ll be in and out.” Cobra cracked his knuckles and kept his gaze locked on hers.
“Okay, I got it.”
A loud ring came from Cobra’s pocket and his shoulders tightened before he reached into his jeans and pulled out his cell. He glanced at the screen. “I gotta take this outside.”
The door flew open, and he stalked out of the room. As it shut with a loud bang, Dakota jumped but then relaxed back into the bed. She heard his deep voice but the words were inaudible even though she strained her ears. Giving up, she pulled the sheets up and under her chin.Okay, so staying with a stranger isn’t the worst mistake I’ve ever made, and Cobra seems nice enough. Good intentions and all that, right?All she had to do was keep a good head on her shoulders and she had this—it would be cake.
Just because Cobra was with the Steel Devils didn’t make him a bad person. He’d saved her from those assholes at the bar and from a fate that made her cringe just thinking about it. That meant something. The worst thing she could do was decide Cobra was persona non grata because of his club’s supposed actions.
No, what she needed to do was get a better understanding of his character outside of the MC and what his Nomad patch meant in the grand scheme of things. That was assuming she could get him to tell her anything.
All of this is going to take time.
It seemed strange to think that after so many years, time may actually be on her side. That there was an end to the fast-paced chaos that had been her life since high school.
Stop running.
Stop hiding.
Maybe.
But not yet.