Delayed Penalty (The Dartmouth Cobras #5)

by Bianca Sommerland

  “Please.” He bit hard into his bottom lip, feeling like he was gonna lose it. Prove exactly what a worthless punk he really was. Hamilton would love that. Slow, even breaths brought him to the calm headspace he only ever reached at the club. He was finally able to lift his head and face them. “All I’m asking for is one more chance.”

  Hamilton grabbed his shoulder, his lips thin as he met Ford’s eyes. “No one expected you to get everything we need first time out.”

  “So this isn’t over?”

  “Not by a long shot.” Hamilton gave Ford a look that Ford never would have expected from the man. One that held respect. And he told Ford exactly what he needed to hear. “You’ll get your chance.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Cort shook himself hard at the chill as he left his car and stepped into the blowing snow, enjoying a breath of cold air even as it sliced at him, eager to freeze him to the bone. He didn’t mind, though. Only three days behind bars and he’d pretty much accepted that he’d never walk free again. But Sebastian’s lawyer, Jason Purcell, had worked a fucking miracle.

  Hell, Sebastian had said he’d pay bail, but with Cort’s habit of running, he hadn’t thought he’d stood a chance. He snorted as he glanced down at the lump of the ankle monitor, covered by the hem of his threadbare, dark blue jeans. The judge obviously hadn’t been completely convinced, but he agreed Cort had enough ties to the team to stick around. And the sweet lady at the bail office where he had to check in had even agreed to let him come down here to see his stepdad for a few hours. Some kinda exception to Cort having to be either at work or at home.

  Walking across the parking lot to the large cabin that served as the small-town bar, a place where the local MC held most of its meetings, Cort spotted the old black Chevy that Ford liked using during the winter. At the other side of the lot was Akira’s little white Firefly. They were both here. Ford had probably trailed Akira to make sure neither of them were being followed. Kept her safe.

  Cort’s jaw ticked as he got closer to the bar and heard the rough, drunken laughter inside. He hadn’t been thrilled when Laura had relayed Ford’s message that he and Akira would meet Cort here. His dad, Sutter, would look out for Akira if he knew what she meant to Cort, but if Dad thought she was Ford’s piece . . .

  He quickened his pace, shoving the door to the bar open and looking around quickly, ready to break some fucking necks if Akira even looked scared. He barked out a laugh when he saw her at a corner booth leaning against Ford and giggling at something Cort’s dad said before kissing the back of her hand.

  “Dad, I don’t want to have to mess up all your perfect teeth. Hands off my ol’ lady.” Cort smiled wide as Sutter rose and came toward him, then grunted as Sutter squeezed the air out of his lungs in a rough bear hug.

  “Fuck that!” Sutter let out an amused snort, his gaze flicking to Cort’s cheek. His eyes hardened for a split second, but he didn’t comment on the wound. “If you make that cute little girl your ‘ol’ lady,’ I’m gonna fuck you up.”

  Cort slapped his father’s back. “You know what I mean. Just wanted to make things clear.”

  “Ford already did.” Sutter smirked and jerked his chin at a beefy biker—probably a local—nursing a bloody nose. “Your boy’s lucky I knew it would piss you off if you showed up and found him out in the snow with a few holes in his gut. I settled all the bullshit.” The grip on Cort’s arm tightened as Cort shifted in the direction of the biker, red flashing across his eyes. Sutter knew him too fucking well. “He apologized. All he did was pull her over to the jukebox and talk dirty. Let it go.” Most other men wouldn’t dare try to hold Cort back. But Cort had never lifted a hand to his father. Not even when he was a cocky little shit of sixteen and Sutter had knocked him on his ass for taking a cop’s daughter out for a good time. If Cort listened to anyone, it was this man.

  And maybe his lawyer. Jason was pretty cool.

  Glancing over at Akira, Cort saw the dirty look she was giving Ford for making her stay put. He gave his father one last squeeze and nodded at Ford to let him know it was okay to let her go.

  The second Ford slid out of the booth, Akira bolted. Ran across the bar and threw herself into Cort’s arms. He picked her up, kissing her, laughing as her hair clung to his lips even as she tipped her head back, her mouth on his, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He tasted the salt of her tears, heard her sob, and his heart broke a little. He’d put her through so much. Too much.

  But things were gonna get better. He couldn’t help believe his lawyer’s assurance that he might not serve any time at all. That he had a solid case. It wouldn’t be too long before he, Akira, and Ford got the life they wanted. He couldn’t buy a big, fancy house, but he could get some place decent. If he didn’t let pride get in the way, maybe he’d let Ford pitch in. Between the two of them, Akira would have everything she needed. Everything she deserved.

  “It’s okay, Tiny.” Cort kissed Akira’s wet cheeks. “I messed up. I’m trying to fix it, but things must have been hard for you. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, Cort.” She was trembling. Still crying. Fuck, he had a lot to make up for.

  Hopefully, she’d give him a chance to prove she’d stood by the right man. That his being arrested was the end of his being a fucking criminal. Maybe being here didn’t help much, but he’d make sure she was never in a place like this again.

  Ford’s scenario of Cort coming home covered in grease while Ford came home in a suit, both working hard to be good men for her, sounded perfect right now. She needed something to look forward to.

  “Tiny, it’s my fault I waited so long. I’m not sure how much Ford told you . . . he got me to come clean. Which was the right thing to do. I did some bad things because I thought I had to. I considered letting you go so you could have better than me.” He dried her tears with his fingers, shaking his head. “But I’m thinking I can be better. If you can forgive me.”

  “You don’t need my forgiveness. I love you. Ford told me everything, and for a minute . . . No, not even. I want you in my life.” She blinked fast and glanced back at Ford. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

  Ford let out a heavy sigh and latched his fingers behind his neck, staring at the floor. He cleared his throat. “He doesn’t know.”

  Know what? His temper flared. He kept his arms around Akira, looking around at the men in the bar. None of them met his eyes, but whatever. Sutter would tell him who needed to die. Maybe he hadn’t mentioned it yet because he wanted to keep Cort out of trouble, but fuck that. If someone had hurt Akira, they were gonna pay.

  “Who?” Cort framed Akira’s little face in his big hands. Kept his tone soft for her. Prayed she could tell him what had happened and know he’d never let it happen again. “Akira, talk to me.”

  “Tim’s dead, Cort,” Akira whispered as she brought her hands up to his face. “Kingsley did it. He did it.” She moved with him when he stumbled away from her. “Tell me you understand that. It’s not your fault.”

  Cort’s knees gave out. He dropped to them hard.

  No . . . No!

  He wrapped his arms around Akira’s legs, needing her close. Knowing he should send her away. This couldn’t be happening!

  But it was. It had. She wouldn’t have said Tim was dead if it wasn’t true.

  Fuck . . . oh, God, what have I done? He pressed his forehead against her thighs, his soft, delicate woman. I should let her go. I’ve destroyed something—someone so much better than me.

  “Look at me, son.” Sutter’s voice. His bruising grip on Cort’s shoulder reached through the darkness where Cort was falling. “Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll bury the fucker. Just say the fucking word.” He made a gruff sound as he shook Cort. “This isn’t on you. I’m not letting you fucking do this to yourself.”

  “I told Roy . . . I told him I had Tim.” Cort brought a hand to his face. Pressed his fingers into his closed eyelids. “I did this.”

  Dead. He’s dead
. If only Cort had—fuck, Akira couldn’t forgive him for this. She shouldn’t. He couldn’t forgive himself.

  “Cort, you didn’t know.” Ford’s soft tone made Cort want to get up and punch him. How could he say that when so many had hated Ford—including Akira—for so long for his mistakes? Jami had almost been raped. But she hadn’t been. And she was still alive. So it was nothing compared to what Cort had done.

  You know what you’ve gotta do, Nash.

  “Take her, Ford. Get her away from me.” Cort released Akira. As he should have done in the first place. He’d never be the man for her. At least she had Ford and Ford loved her. And Ford wasn’t too far gone to be there for her. He felt a gentle hand on the side of his throat and jerked away. “Get her out of here!”

  “No.” It sounded like Ford and Sutter had spoken at the same time. Cort could almost feel them staring each other down. It was Ford who continued. “I think she might object. And I refuse to take her away from you, so that’s not gonna work. She had to watch us both be hauled in for bullshit. We’re both here now. I won’t have her feeling alone again.”

  “She’s not alone. She has you.” That’s what Ford had wanted. Why couldn’t he just go with it? It would kill Cort to lose her, but better that than her being with someone whose hands would always be soaked in innocent blood. “You owe me, Ford. You better fucking remember that and give her . . . give her everything. Every fucking day you better look at her and know you’ve gotta work hard to deserve her.”

  “You’re right. I owe you that and a lot more. So here’s what I’m going to do.” Ford held his hand out, not moving until Cort took it. Then he jerked Cort to his feet. “I’m gonna make this real clear. Neither of us is going anywhere.”

  “You’re gonna make her stay with a killer?”

  Akira latched on to Cort’s wrist and glared at him. “He’s not making me do anything. And you’re not a killer.” She held up her hand before he could object, her eyes narrowing into angry slits as she finally let herself really see the damage done to his face. “Who did that?”

  “I was in prison, sweetie. Shit happens.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “You can’t know that. I—”

  “Don’t argue with me, Cort. I won’t let Roy Kingsley hurt any more of the people I love.”

  She doesn’t understand. “He’s not the only one to blame—”

  “Yes. He is.” She poked him in the center of the chest. “Now, stop it. I missed you, and I just want you to hold me and promise you’re never going to leave me again.”

  He shouldn’t make that promise, but she trapped him with her beautiful eyes, eyes that had shed too many tears already, and made him see she wouldn’t accept anything else.

  At first, he couldn’t speak. His mouth was dry and even the thought of letting go of his guilt . . . only, he wasn’t really letting it go. Whatever he said, his part in Tim’s death would always haunt him. “Akira, I love you. It wouldn’t be right for me to—”

  “Cort, you didn’t know Tim very well, so let me say what he would if he were here.” Ford took off his thick leather jacket and dropped it on the table. He put an arm around Akira’s waist and a hand on Cort’s arm. “The game’s not over. You played a small part, and if you think you fucked up, get back out there and try harder. Learn from your mistakes and all that shit.”

  Cort let out a rough laugh. “He wouldn’t have said it like that.”

  “Probably not.” Ford gave Cort a crooked smile. “He would have said it better. But you get the point.”

  “I get it.” Cort looked from Ford to Akira. Nodded slowly. “I can’t promise they won’t put me away for a long time, but if they don’t . . . I’ll stay.”

  “Good.” Akira bit her trembling bottom lip, squaring her shoulders as she turned to Ford. Her eyes widened as she stared at Ford’s neck. “Damn it, Ford! What happened to you?”

  Ford blinked, brought his hand to his throat, then winced. “It’s nothing.”

  The collar of Ford’s jacket had covered the marks, but they stood out now, blue and purple bruises like someone had held his throat. Cort ground his teeth. “Our lady asked you a question.”

  “Not one I can answer now.” Ford glanced at Sutter pointedly. The waitress came over, winking at Ford like she knew her timing was perfect when he quickly nodded and ordered them all some beers. Ford returned to his seat, leaning back, an easy smile on his lips. “Sutter told me we can hang out here after the place closes. He cleared it with the owner.”

  Akira folded her arms over her breasts. “That’s great. But first you’re going to tell me if Kingsley is the one who left those bruises on you.”

  Ford gave her a level look.

  “You’re not going back, Ford.”

  “I have to. I handled it, shorty. That’s all you need to know.”

  Answer enough. Cort knew Ford wanted him to stay out of it, but too fucking bad. I’m going to kill Roy.

  Apparently, Akira had the same plan. She faced Sutter and held out her hand. “Give me your gun. I’m going to kill that bastard.”

  Sutter grinned and reached back to pull out his gun.

  Tossing his own homicidal to-do list aside, Cort grabbed the gun before Akira could wrap her small hand around it. He put his hand on Akira’s shoulder to make her sit, then scowled at his father. “Seriously, Dad?”

  “What? I want a front-row seat for this!” Sutter chuckled, bending over to kiss Akira’s forehead. “Cort’s right, though. Let someone else take out the asshole. You’re a good girl—keep my boy out of trouble, ‘kay, sweetheart?”

  “I’ll do my best.” Akira shot Sutter a crooked, yet grim smile. “But only if you promise to help me bury the body when I get that gun back.”

  Helpful as he was, Ford was laughing as he brought his fresh beer to his lips, looking at Akira like he thought her being bloodthirsty was sexy as hell. Not that it wasn’t, but Cort wasn’t about to let Akira slip into the life he and Ford were struggling to get out of.

  So he exchanged a look with Sutter he knew his father would understand. Sutter called out that the bar was “closed” and walked out as the place emptied. Leaving the three of them alone.

  Akira paled a little as Cort flattened his hands on the table. He leaned close, tone level as he met her wide eyes. “Tiny, I don’t even like you swearing. This is much worse.”

  She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

  He bent down a little more to whisper against her lips. “Not sorry enough. But you will be.”

  * * * *

  A shudder ran over Akira as Cort pulled her to her feet, the gleam in his eyes a little scary, but wickedly promising. She glanced over at Ford, who gave her a slanted smile, and knew she wouldn’t be getting any help from him. He looked eager to see how Cort would punish her.

  Despite being a bit nervous, little tingles went over every part of her body that Cort’s gaze touched. She pressed her thighs together as she grew hot and moist, licking her lips because deep down, she really hoped he’d follow through. Even if the discipline wasn’t pleasant, she wanted it to feel real. Wanted to be taken in hand and out of her own head.

  Cort shrugged off his jacket and laid it on the floor at her feet. “Kneel, Tiny.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She knelt on the jacket, tipping her head back to look up at him.

  “Eyes down.” He tapped her cheek lightly at her hesitation and her lips parted. “Safeword applies, but don’t use it unless you have to. I won’t slap you, but if even little taps are a hard limit, say so now.” Cort studied her face when she just stared at him. “Nod if you understand.”

  She nodded quickly and lowered her gaze. Her pulse began a rapid tattoo as Cort’s presence thickened around her, his authority a big, heavy blanket, weighing her down and comforting her all at once. All his past uncertainty was gone. Or very well hidden.

  “I’ve been thinking about punishments—I had a lot of time to think in jail.” He arched a brow at her quick glance up, n
ot continuing again until she looked down at his scuffed-up, salt-stained black boots. “My issue with punishing you is if I have to overpower you to do it, if I have to spank you while you’re struggling, I end up feeling like an abusive dick and—” He held a hand up when Ford cleared his throat and moved to stand. “I’m not saying it’s abusive. You doing it to her won’t bug me. But it doesn’t feel right for me to do it.”

  “Got it,” Ford said, tone relaxed as he settled back down. “Do what you’re comfortable with.”

  Cort circled her slowly, and since she couldn’t see his face, she found herself focusing even more on his voice. On the low, steady resonance, the controlled way he said each and every word. “This is going to hurt. It won’t last long, and when I’m done, Ford and I will make up for all the time you were alone. But it’s very important to me that you learn your lesson and never even consider picking up a gun and taking matters in your own hands. We clear?”

  She nodded.

  He tugged her hair. “Say the words, Akira.”

  “Yes, Sir. Very clear.” Her vision swam. She’d wanted real, and now she had it. This punishment wouldn’t be for fun. He might sound all calm, but there was no mistaking that what she’d done really bothered him. “I’m sorry, Cort.” Her voice hitched. “I need you to know how sorry I really am.”

  “And what will happen if I accept your apology? If I just let it go?”

  The suggestion made her blood run cold. Was he taking away the offer of a clean slate? She meant every word, but saying them wasn’t enough. She needed him to make her feel them!

  Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Please, Cort—Sir, there has to be more!”

  “There will be.” His knuckles grazed her cheek, brushing her tears away. “But I need to know this isn’t for me. It feels . . . important that punishments do something for you too.”

  “They do.” She swallowed, wishing she could meet his eyes. Let him see how much his doing this meant to her. “They mean I’m worth forgiving.”