Page 53 of Victorious: Part 3
All of them safe because Hurricane gave his life so they could get theirs back.
Coughing and spluttering, one by one, everyone rises to theirfeet, except Bayou, who’s kneeling at the edge of the abyss.
Limping over to him, I gently rest my hand on his shoulder, and he slowly glances up at me, devastation plastered across his face. “How the fuck do I live in this world without my twin?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know how any of us live without him, Bayou. He took up so much space. He wasn’t just a hurricane by name but also nature…” The rest of our brothers circle around us, all peering down into the gaping hole.
Bayou scrubs at his face with his hands. “Kaia’s fucking pregnant. Jesus! He’s never gonna meet his twins.”
None of us says anything in return as the sound of blaring sirens sounds in the distance. But I know now the burden of authority hangs heavy on my shoulders. Reaching for the radio, I hesitate, taking a deep breath as I watch my brothers grieving over the gaping hole in the New Orleans landscape, and the gaping hole in the NOLA Defiance brotherhood. With a heavy heart, I key the comms. “L6, this is N3 reporting in… packaged delivered.” I take a deep breath, my hands trembling as I glance back down into the gaping chasm. “We have sustained injuries, and…” I pause, not wanting to say the damn words.
“Go ahead, N3, we’re receiving,” L6 chimes down the line in her kind voice.
Clearing my throat, I swipe my hand over my face, dropping to my knee as the emotion hits me full force. “We took a heavy hit… our Pres is gone, L6,” I somehow manage to grit out, before dropping the radio to the dusty ground.
Static blasts through the comms as Hoodoo grips my shoulder supportively, my eyes still focused on the damn hole where whatever is left of Hurricane remains.
“Sorry… can you repeat, N3? It sounded like you said you lost your president?” the voice chimes, an edge of disbelief in her tone.
My stomach churns, a wave of anger rising through me as Ireach for the radio, pick it up, and begin pacing with the fury of a raging bull. “I don’t know how much fucking clearer I can be… Hurricane is dead for fuck’s sake!” I bellow down the line, then hurl the radio down into the fucking gaping pit with as much force as fucking possible.
I faintly hear it crackle and her replying, “Please take care of your—” But the crashing sound of the radio as it finally smashes into whatever is at the bottom of the abyss cuts her off.
We helped Los Angeles take down this part of the Cartel operation, and helping these women gain their freedom was paramount, but as we stand here, staring at what literally looks like the end of the world, I can’t help but think a big part of NOLA Defiance’s world ended in this gaping chasm here today.
And I doubt we willeverfully recover from it.
Chapter Ten
VOID
TAMPA – 3:00 a.m. EDT
There’s something about a multi-front attack that has my insides igniting with excitement. Not a lot of things get me excited. There is a reason my road name is Void, and it’s not because it’s a play on words.
I am exactly what it says, void of emotion.
There’s only one person who can truly elicit any kind of real sensation from me, and since she came rampaging into my life like a fucking whirling dervish, I swear I have never been the same.
Ivy Pérez.
Better known by her road name, Toxin.
The first female to patch into Defiance MC and become a full member. The first woman to be able to break through my fucking frozen heart and shatter the walls I’ve been building for who knows how long.
She’s an enigma.
Fucking hell on wheels.
And the undeniable love of my life.
Even though she’s my Old Lady, when we’re out here on a mission as massive as this, I have to be the VP of this club, and look at her like I would any other brother in this club. It’s a hard fucking differentiation to make, but I have to do it because that’s the responsibility of leadership. And honestly, if I treated Toxin any differently out here, she’d kick my fucking ass.
But a war this huge, an assault on multiple cities, with multiple clubs attacking in tandem—we all know the risks. We all know that any one of us, any club, if not all of us, could bewalking into hell on earth, and we may not come out the other side.
So, I have to keep my head in the game.
And not focused on how fucking sexy Toxin’s ass looks in her wetsuit as she stands in front of me on the boat. Salt air whips against my face as we cut through the black water, three Defiance boats slicing toward the island like blades through silk. The weapons facility looms ahead, a jagged blot of shadow and light against the starlit sky. The weapons cache sits plain as day in the middle of a barge just off Fantasy Island in Hillsborough Bay. I guess the saying‘hide in plain sight’is true. The goddamn Cartel has all this fucking ammunition just sitting in the fucking middle of Tampa Bay on a goddamn barge, and no one even blinked a damn eyelid.
