Page 16 of Victorious: Part I

Her hand is wrapped in a blood-soaked cloth while fresh cuts mar her exposed skin. I have no clue how long I’ve been out for and what the fuck they have done to Livvy in that time, but what I do know is that I need to clear this shit out of my system and get Livvy the fuck out of here.

Using all my strength, I shift slightly to get a better look, my head spinning with me as I do. However, I fight to maintain my equilibrium and swallow hard to put some pressure back into my ears. I glance up at Livvy, and Nighthawk stands beside her.

Her long, red hair is pulled back from her face. With precision, just like I taught her. So it doesn’t get in her way. It doesn’t get residue on her, and it won’t get left behind.

A bird in The Nest doesn’t exist.

Therefore, your DNA doesnotexist.

Nighthawk has remembered everything I’ve taught her, so watching her right now, standing over Alpha’s ex-wife, her expression remaining impassive as she methodically cleans a blade, is not just making my blood boil, it’s fucking nuclear at this point.

But as my eyes shift to hers, those eyes I taught to observe everything then flick back toward me.

And for a fraction of a second, I see it.

It’s brief, practically imperceptible, but in that moment, it’s there.

Recognition.

Intent.

The young girl I trained for years hasn’t turned her back on me.

She’s merely buying time.

My nostrils flare, my pulse hammering as realization grips me—Nighthawk is waiting, biding her time until I can make my move.

This ends now.

I force my breath steadily, shoving every ounce of focus into the fight ahead. My hands are bound behind my back, my ankles restrained with zip ties. The sedative still lingers, dulling my senses, but my heightened adrenaline is quickly fighting through the fog. I flex against the restraints, testing, trying to find enough give in the plastic.

As I feel my thumbs flexing with the right angle, a slow smirk crosses my lips.

Just enough give to work with.

Suddenly, a triumphant laugh echoes through the cavernous space as Javier marches back toward me in his egotistical manner. “She’s awake,” he announces, waving at me to his goons. “Perfect timing. I was just telling my associates about thespecial deliverywe sent to your clubhouse.”

My muscles tense, not understanding what he means by that. My thoughts shift to Alpha, and I hope that he’s okay while Javier crouches beside me, his face inches from mine. His menacing smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes—those remain cold, empty.

“I bet your curious little mind is wondering what I would send to the clubhouse?” he asks, pressing the tip of his finger against my forehead.

I shake him off, curling my lip up at him. “My first guess would be your cock, but I know it can’t be that because I can tell you don’t have one. Or if you do, it’s probably so small it’s inverted.”

Javier doesn’t take the bait. He doesn’t react and slap me like I thought he would. He simply stares at me with a contented smile. “You know, Haven, I think under different circumstances, you and I, we could have made a fine team.”

I snort out a laugh, tilting my head. “In what universe do you think I wouldeverwork for a man like you, Javier?” I snarl, then spit aggressively at his feet.

He simply chuckles, standing this time, and begins pacing. “Need I remind you,Blue Jay—” his use of my code name freezes me momentarily. “That you did,in fact,work for a man like me. For my Uncle Rico Rojas, when you were a bird at The Nest. We owned you before you even knew who we were. And now…” he gestures to Nighthawk, “… we still have loyal birds who remember their training. So don’t go acting all high and mighty with me. I know who you are. I know the things you have done in the name of the Cartel. You arenotinnocent, Haven.”

My stomach churns as I stare at Javier, a sick feeling invading every damn pore of my body.

The problem is, this damn motherfucker is right.

But I still won’t let him get to me.

“You think you know me? You don’t know shit. Whatever you sent to the club, a bomb, a team of mercenaries to take them out, they’ll see it coming, and they’ll tackle it head-on. We’re not called Defiance for no damn reason, asshole!”

Javier chuckles again, like he’s in on some big secret, continuing his relentless pacing around the large expanse. “I never thanked you for bringing dinner. When my men went to check your truck, there really was alotof chicken in there, so thank you for feeding my men while you were sleeping.”

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