Page 83 of Breaking the Sinner

Cobra took charge of music and navigating them out of the city. His brooding presence at her side both distracted and reassured. Cobra was an anchor that she’d never realized her ship was missing. But more than that too. He was her guide. Her protector. Friend. Lover.

Once they broke out of the city limits, the tension in the car dissipated. Maybe it was because they’d escaped the crush of vehicles and pollution, but something had shifted. Now, it felt like a bona fide road trip, kind of likePlanes, Trains and Automobiles, which she’d seen for the first time last month. Hopefully with less mishaps.

“Gas is getting low,” Cobra said while he adjusted knobs, searching for a new station outside of LA city limits.

She smirked. “Thanks. I’ll pull over soon.”

He sent her a private smile. “Just trying to help.” An ad for teeth whitening came into crisp focus on the radio. Cobra frowned and kept flipping. After a few more tries, he sighed and left the radio on some pop music station. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey, you mind if I smoke?”

“You mean weed?”

He jerked his head into a nod, staring out the windshield.

“I don’t care. But I thought you only smoked with people, and I can’t smoke before I go see my family again.”

“Yeah. Uh…” He dug in his pocket, revealing a small baggie of weed. “This is kind of different.”

“How so?”

“Meeting your folks and all that.” He bent his neck as he packed his little pipe. “Kinda calls for some extra help.”

Cobra smoked quickly, blowing the fragrant puffs out the window. A calm had descended within the car. She glanced over at him.

“I didn’t realize it would make you so nervous.”

He raked his fingers through his hair, over and over again, like petting himself. It seemed to help. “I can’t even say how many years it’s been since I’ve been around anybody’s parents.”

“Not even your own?” The question flew out of her mouth before she could stop it. But she didn’t get the brooding look she’d expected.

“No, Red. Not even my own.”

She gripped the steering wheel, the question on her lips burning so badly she could taste the lead tang of blood. Finally, it popped out. “Why not?”

Cobra tugged at the front piece of his hair. “’Cause I don’t have any. Never met my dad. And my mom…is dead to me.”

Gen rolled her lips inward. Before she could press for more, Cobra spoke.

“I know you’ve got a hundred more questions, Red. But save ’em. That’s all I’m gonna say.” Cobra settled back into the seat, staring out the windshield with hooded eyes.

“Were you orphaned?”

Cobra sighed tersely. “Red.”

“Sorry.”

He turned his lighter over in one hand, flicking it without lighting it. A few moments of silence passed, and then he said, “Not orphaned. Foster care.”

Gen swallowed a knot in her throat. Those words alone allowed a painful glimpse into his past. She couldn’t imagine what he’d been through, or what the true story might be.

Cobra sniffed hard, his gaze shifting out the side window.

“You don’t have to—” Gen began.

“Klay and Tyler were my foster brothers,” Cobra said, stiffening in the seat. She glanced over at him—his face was stony, almost unrecognizable. “Only family I’ve got.”

Gen squeezed the steering wheel. It was almost unthinkable that those two strange, unsavory men could be all Cobra had to lean on in life. Guys who would greet a female stranger at the door with a joke about sluts.

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