Page 97 of Victorious: Part I

Here, I’m eating alien-themed jerky and making a fool of myself while Clover films it.

It’s nice.

Until I see her uploading the video.

“What are you doing?” I ask sharply.

She looks up, still smiling. “Just posting this. It’s too good not to share.”

“Did you tag me again?” I snap.

Her smile fades slightly. “No, of course not. I learned my lesson last time.”

“But you’re posting it right now? Did you even ask if it was okay?”

She lowers her phone, frowning. “I… no, I didn’t think I needed to. It’s just a funny video.”

“Jesus, Clover.” I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. “Do you not get what’s happening back home right now?”

Her face hardens. “Of course I do.”

“Then why the fuck are you treating this like some vacation? Posting videos, having fun, like everything’s fine?”

“I’m doing my job,” she says, her voice rising. “And sorry for trying to have a few moments where I’m not fucking drowning!”

The few other customers in the store are starting to stare, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “This isn’t about your job or your feelings. It’s about staying under the radar. It’s about keeping you safe. Every post is a fucking beacon, Clover.”

“No one is looking forus!The Cartel wants the club, not us.” Her eyes flash with anger. “Or is this just an excuse for you to play the tough guy again? To remind me that big-man Phoenix is in charge?”

That stings, mostly because part of me wonders if she’s right.

Am I overreacting?

Am I just flexing the only kind of control I have in this situation?

Letting out a heavy exhale, I try to lower my voice. “I promised your brother I’d keep you safe,” I say, my voice still tense. “That means being careful. That means not broadcasting where we are every five minutes. So far, my face hasn’t been in any of the posts. But if the Cartel sees this, seesmyface, they know that I amnotwith the club. Every location tag is a map for anyone looking for us. Then theywillcome looking, Clover.”

“You want to talk about promises?” she hisses. “You promised me you’d try to enjoy this trip. That you wouldn’t make me feel like a damn burden.”

Guilt hits me hard in the chest. She’s right about that, at least. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. Constantly!” She hits some buttons on her cell, then turns the screen to show me. “There. I deleted the video completely. A happy memory gone.” My stomach sinks as she grabs her bag from the counter. “I’m waiting in the truck.” She storms out, leaving me standing here with a handful of alien jerky and a gnawing sense that I’ve completely fucked up.

Again.

I quickly pay for the stuff we sampled, plus a few extra flavors I think she might like, hoping it might serve as a peace offering. By the time I get back to the truck, she’s sitting in the passenger seat, arms folded, staring straight ahead.

I slide in behind the wheel but don’t start the engine right away. “Clover—”

“Just drive,” she says flatly, not looking at me. “We’ve still got one more stop today.”

Sighing, I start the truck. The silence as we pull back onto the highway is deafening.

But maybe silence is what we both need right now.

Chapter Twenty-Three

CLOVER

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