Page 76 of Victorious: Part I

“Nighthawk, your inside knowledge could be invaluable for the war Defiance is about to fight. Will you come with us?” I ask. “Tell us everything you know about Javier’s operation?”

She hesitates, her training visibly fighting with her desire for freedom.

“I can’t guarantee your safety if you refuse,” Alpha adds, his voice low.

I snap my head to glare at him, but he continues, “Not because of me or the club, but because Javierwillfind you eventually.”

A small smile crosses her lips. “I know,” she replies, then straightens. “I’ll come with you. I’ll tell you everything I know. It’s the least I can do.”

Relief washes over me as I relax my shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” she warns. “You might not like the shit I need to tell you.”

I glance at Alpha, his face scrunched. “All right, let’s take this back to the clubhouse. The conversation is more secure there.”

The three of us stand in unison, and I give a little head bob to Nighthawk in encouragement. She reaches for her duffle, grabs her laptop, shoves it inside, and then we make our way out the door into the parking lot, where the guys are standing by their bikes, arms crossed, looking like they’re itching for a fight.

Nighthawk lets out a small chuckle, leaning in closer to me. “I see why you like it there. Are theyallthis good-looking?” she whispers.

I snort out a laugh. “Yeah, it’s a burden.”

She raises her brow. “It’s a freaking harem waiting to happen is what it is.Damn!No wonder you traded in the bird life for this,” she whispers. “Hi, boys!” she calls out louder this time. “I’m gonna need a ride,” she grins, more playfully now. All broodiness from inside the motel room seems to have vanished.

Alpha glances at Ink, signaling to him. Ink steps up to her, and she eyes him up and down. “Jesus, you’re huge,” she mumbles under her breath.

Ink huffs like he’s not impressed then slides his leg over his ride. “And you killed a valued member of our club, so excuse me if I don’t fall for your flattery. Now, get on the back of my bike. Hold on. Shut up. And don’t do anything fucking stupid.”

Nighthawk turns to look at me, raising her brow.Meeeow,she mouths, then slides on the back of Ink’s bike behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

I try to hide my smile as I walk with Alpha to his bike. He slides on, and I follow behind him as he starts the engine, but before he takes off, he turns to face me. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” he states quickly, then turns back, kicks up his stand, and hammers down so fast I almost fall off the back of his ride.

Holding on for dear life, the ride back to the clubhouse is tense. Nighthawk rides with Ink, surrounded by club members while Alpha and I are in the middle of the procession. The wariness of the brothers rolls off them in waves.

It’s clear as day to see…

They don’t trust her—which is fair.

I’m not entirely sure I do, either.

Not one hundred percent.

Yes, I’ve spent years with her. But in the last few, she’s been deep with Javier while he’s been building his new empire. So, while I’m telling Alpha and the guys that Nighthawk is completely trustworthy, I’m keeping my eyes firmly on her.

As we pull through the clubhouse gates, the brothers park their rides, all jumping off one by one, including Nighthawk and me. Her eyes scan the clubhouse, taking it all in exactly as she was trained.

“Everyone inside. We got shit to discuss,” Alpha calls, and the guys follow his instructions without hesitation.

Nighthawk smiles at Alpha, raising her brow. “Ahh, so youdohave authority. Just not over Blue Jay, it seems?” she teases.

Alpha rolls his eyes, gesturing for the main door where the others have already entered. “Inside, now!” he states.

I chuckle, tilting my head at Nighthawk. “C’mon,” I tell her.

She exhales, craning her neck, and then we head for the entrance. Alpha is walking before us, seeming to gain attention this way. And then, as if something from a movie, as soon as Nighthawk and I walk inside, the conversation throughout the clubhouse dies down to almost silence. The old ladies and club girls stand back, watching warily as Nighthawk and I continue through the main room. She keeps her head high, her steps measured, but the subtle tells of her discomfort shine through—the slight tension in her jaw, the way her eyes scan for exits, the extra flare in her nostrils with the heightened breathing.

“Who the fuck is that?” Dutch grumbles, his eyes narrowing on Nighthawk, seeing as he wasn’t at the motel with us.

“Everyone, this is—” Alpha begins but is soon cut off by a delighted squeal from the other side of the room.

---