Page 13
Story: Disciplined By the Orc
"I know," I interrupt, managing a small smile. "I'll be ready to leave in a hurry."
He nods, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face before he steps away to make his calls.
I watch him pace as he talks, his large frame taut with tension. In the harsh lighting, the differences between us are stark. His green skin, his impressive bulk, the fierce set of his features are all a reminder of how different our worlds are. Or were, before fate and danger threw us together.
Koda's voice rises suddenly, a string of words in a language I don't recognize spilling from him. His face is thunderous, and for a moment, I see the warrior he must have been. It's terrifying and awe-inspiring all at once.
Finally, he snaps the phone shut and returns to the bike. "We've got a place to stay," he grunts. "Old associate of mine. Ex-military, runs a garage now. It's not much, but it'll be secure."
I nod, relieved to have a destination but apprehensive about what awaits us. "Koda," I say, reaching out to touch his arm. "Thank you. For everything you're doing to keep me safe."
He glances at me, his yellow eyes softening slightly. "Don't thank me yet, little chef. We're not out of the woods."
The use of the nickname he gave me back at the cabin sends a warm flutter through my chest, a reminder of the connection we've forged amidst all this chaos.
We ride for another hour before Koda slows the bike to a stop. We're in front of a nondescript building,Lou's Auto Repairwritten in faded letters above the garage doors. The sky is just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn.
"We're here," Koda says, his voice low. "Stay close to me, and let me do the talking."
I nod, suddenly wide awake and alert. As we approach the side door of the garage, it swings open before Koda can knock. A man steps out, human, middle-aged, with the kind of build that speaks of military training gone slightly to seed.
"Grukk," he says by way of greeting, his eyes flickering to me before settling back on Koda. "Been a long time."
"Lou," Koda replies, tension evident in every line of his body. "Thanks for this."
Lou grunts, stepping aside to let us in. "Don't thank me yet. You still owe me an explanation."
The interior of the garage is cluttered but clean, with a small living area tucked into one corner. Lou leads us there, gesturing to a worn couch.
"Sit," he commands. "Coffee?"
I nod gratefully, sinking onto the couch. Koda remains standing, his posture rigid as he gives Lou a condensed version of our situation. I watch Lou's face as he listens, trying to gauge his reaction. His expression remains impassive, but I catch a flicker of something – respect? concern? – in his eyes as Koda finishes.
"Damn, Grukk," Lou says finally, shaking his head. "You never could stay out of trouble, could you?"
Koda's laugh is short and harsh. "Trouble has a way of finding me."
Lou's gaze shifts to me, and I resist the urge to shrink back. "And you, little lady? How'd you get mixed up with this green bastard?"
Before I can answer, Koda steps between us, his voice a low growl. "She's off-limits, Lou. We clear?"
The tension in the room ratchets up several notches. I hold my breath, waiting for Lou's response. To my surprise, he throws back his head and laughs.
"Still the same old Grukk," he chuckles. "Alright, your girl's safe here. But you know I can't keep you long. Day or two, max."
Koda nods, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "It'll do. Thanks, Lou."
As Lou shows us to a small back room with a couple of cots, the reality of our situation hits me anew. We're fugitives, relying on the questionable goodwill of Koda's old associates. The life I knew – my apartment in the French Quarter, my dreams of opening a restaurant – seems impossibly far away.
Once we're alone, Koda turns to me, his expression softening. "You okay?"
I nod, not trusting my voice. Koda steps closer, his large hand cupping my cheek gently.
"I know this is a lot," he says softly. "But I promise you, Pamela, I'll figure this out. I'll keep you safe."
I lean into his touch, drawing strength from his presence. "I know you will," I whisper. "I trust you, Koda."
He pulls me into his arms then, and I go willingly, burying my face in his broad chest. In the safety of his embrace, I finally let the tears come as tears of fear, of exhaustion, of grief for the life I've left behind.