Page 111 of Victorious: Part 3
It’s Maverick this time who seems to be frozen, so I take over. “She said that she knew you were pregnant, Sades… and that if you had a daughter, she was going to take her and train her as a bird for The Nest,” I explain, watching my sister’s face crumble, her hand instinctively moving over her stomach protectively. “She said she’d make sure your child became one of Javier’s weapons.”
“Oh my God. That doesn’t sound like the loving mother we knew at all. Are yousureit was her?” Sadie whispers, tears falling down her cheeks like a river.
My chest squeezes, my eyes well up, seeing my sister going through the same rationalizations I had to.
That this woman, our mother, who we thought we knew, had a complete personality transplant.
I guess that’s what the corruption of the Cartel can do to someone.
Maverick reaches out, taking her hand in his. “She was completely lost, Sadie. The woman who raised you… she was gone. What was left was something else entirely.”
“What happened. There’s something you’re not telling us?” Clover asks, her eyes on me, though I can see in her eyes that she already knows.
Maverick rolls his shoulders, seeming suddenly uncomfortable.
So I take over. “I froze… I did the same thing you just did, Sadie. That the woman we knew, the woman who made me love Elvis, who gave you that vinyl you still have, who taught us that even when you’re having a bad day, and tomorrow is a fresh start, I couldn’t rationalize those thoughts. So when she started threatening you and your unborn child, Maverick and I both knew that we couldn’t let her anywhere near you. Sadie, we couldn’t!”
She lets out a soft sob, her bottom lip trembling as she softly nods, her hand gently sliding out across Maverick’s chest, where the large bandage covers the wound my mother made with her shiv. “Did s-she do t-this?” Sadie whimpers.
Maverick softly nods, reaching up to take Sadie’s hand in his, and he then kisses her hand gently and holds it back to his chest.
“S-she tried to k-kill you?” she stutters through her tears.
Maverick simply nods.
Sadie turns to look at me, tilting her head, tears still streaming down her face. “Wes, is she?”
Letting out a heavy exhale, I stand and walk around the table, then squat beside her, pulling her to me in the tightest embrace. “I’m so sorry, Sadie. I’m so sorry that you didn’t get the chance to see her. I’m so sorry that she isn’t the mother we remember. And I’m so sorry that we had to do what we had to, to make sure that you and your baby are safe.”
She clings to me as she cries harder, Maverick’s eyes meeting mine over her shoulder as I hold her tight. He nods, giving me a silent thank you for not telling Sadie which one of us took the kill shot. It’s better if she doesn’t know who, and it stays ambiguous.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair. “I’m so fucking sorry you had to find out this way.”
“She was already gone, wasn’t she?” Sadie asks through hertears. “The mother we remembered… she died a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly, stroking her hair. “She did.”
Clover reaches over, squeezing Sadie’s hand supportively. “I’m sorry. I had no idea she was even alive, let alone…” she trails off, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for both of you.”
“You understand why we did what we had to do?” I ask Clover, making sure that she’s okay.
Clover nods firmly. “Of course I do. You protected Sadie. You protected all of us. Sometimes the hardest choices are the right ones.”
We sit in heavy silence for a few minutes, processing everything.
Finally, Sadie wipes her eyes and takes a shaky breath. “Thank you,” she says, aimed at us both. “For protecting me. For… for ending her suffering.”
Maverick nods grimly. “She wasn’t coming back from what they’d done to her. What they’d turned her into.”
“I know,” Sadie whispers. “I know.”
One Week Later
The clubhouse feels different now. Lighter somehow, despite everything we’ve been through.
We won.
The Cartel’s chokehold on the city is broken, their operations dismantled, their key players either dead or scattered to the wind.
