Page 104 of Victorious: Part I

“Yeah, well. Someone had to be.”

She’s quiet for a moment, eating the jerky. “Is that why you joined the Serpents? To protect her?”

The question hits me like a punch to the gut.

No one’s ever asked me that directly before. Not even Sadie.

“Yeah,” I admit finally. “It got… complicated back home. Sadie had caught the attention of some really bad people. I thought if I prospected in like my father wanted, I could keep her safe.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Fucking ironic, right? I joined to protect her, and it just put her in more danger.”

“But you got her out,” Clover points out. “You both got out. That counts for something.”

I shake my head. “Not before I did some shit I cannevertake back.”

“Like what?” she asks straight out.

For a second, I consider telling her everything—the violence, the blood on my hands, the nightmares that still wake me up some nights.

But I can’t do it.

Can’t bear to see her look at me differently.

“Doesn’t matter now. It’s done.”

She watches me for a long moment, then says, “The tattoo on your chest. I’ve seen it peeking out sometimes. What is it?”

I blink, surprised by the change of subject. “Why do you want to know?”

She shrugs. “Just curious. Is it a Serpent thing?”

“No.” My hand automatically moves to my chest, where the date is inked in Roman numerals beneath a tiger with bright blue eyes. “It’s personal.”

“Everything with you is personal,” she says, but there’s no judgment in her voice. “You don’t have to tell me. I just thought maybe…”

“December 3, 1998,” I say suddenly, not sure why I’m telling her. “That’s what the Roman numerals mean.”

Her brow furrows in clear confusion. “That’s before you were born, right?”

She’s so fucking smart.

But I’ve started now, so I may as well keep going, even though it will open up a whole can of worms with Clover.

Letting out a long exhale, I run my fingers through my hair. “Fuck! Okay, here goes. So, my mother, Layla, she had another child before Sadie was born—”

“You guys have another sibling out there?” Clover interrupts, her eyes wide in excitement.

Shaking my head, her shoulders slump at the realization. “Oh,” she whispers, her hand sliding out to hold mine.

Somehow, that small gesture of comfort is enough to help me to keep going. “Uh, so, my older brother, he was born on December 3rd, 1998.”

“It’s his birthday on your chest?” She clarifies.

I simply nod. “It is. He was three years old when he died. My mother was married and happy. She had a good life. A great life…” I tense, knowing what I am about to tell Clover next, but turn to look into her eyes when I do. “Mom’s family life was amazing, and she had a great relationship with her mother. And my grandmother was head over heels in love with Elvis. Her love was passed down to my mother, and it kind of became a generational thing.” Her eyes meet mine, and I don’t miss the way, even in the dim glow from the flashlights, that her eyes begin to well with tears. But I continue, “So, in 1968, my grandma saw Elvis’ comeback special on TV, and my mom talked about how my grandma would rave about it endlessly. But then, what was even more special, was the fact, that on the day of my brother’s birth, December 3rd, 1998, it was the thirtieth anniversary of Elvis’ ’68 comeback special.” I let out a small laugh, shaking my head at how Mom would retell this story every time. “Mom said they had that special on in the delivery room, loud enough to cover her screaming through the labor pains, and she swears that my brother came out dancing along to “Blue Suede Shoes.””

Clover smiles brightly, the tears freefalling down her cheeks now as I reach out and gently swipe them from her cheeks. “I’m so, so, sorry. If I had known that Elvis was actually this important to you, I would have never,everteased you about it, I swear—”

“Hey, stop.” I spin, forcing her to look at me. “I don’t know why, but you teasing me about it actually helps. Maybe because I’m just a fucked-up mess.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think you are, not even a little bit.” Her gorgeous doe eyes stare up at me, so tempting, so alluring. Every single inch of me wants to lean forward right now and kiss her.

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