Page 94 of Victorious: Part 3
Trax is cut off when we all spot City slide into the screen, his face solemn, his eyes bloodshot when he comes into view. The call is silent, but it doesn’t stop the ringing in my ears, my head spinning as I grip the edge of the table for support.
No one speaks.
We all know why City is here and not Hurricane.
There’s only one reason a VP steps into a call over a president.
The same reason Trax stepped in for Torque.
But City’s expression isn’t the same as when Trax came into the call—it’s far more serious.
Racing my fingers through my hair, I let out a heavy exhale, shaking my head. “How bad?” I simply ask the words no one else is able to say.
City sniffs, emotion clear in his tone as he speaks, “The kinda bad you can’t come back from.”
My stomach falls through the floor as I grip the edge of my seat for support, even though I am sitting.
Silence filters over the call.
There are no more jokes, no more laughing, or celebrating our win.
Just shock at the idea that an enigma like Hurricane is no longer in this world.
Clearing my throat, I somehow find the strength to speak,“How’d he go out?”
A small smile crosses City’s lips, and he nods once. “Like a fucking hero.”
Sin softly chuckles, raising his drink to the screen again. “Figures.”
City scrubs at his face, a low groan escaping him, then he looks back at us, letting out a long exhale. “There were birds in the facility. Hurricane took one of them on. He managed to take her out somehow, but she had explosives on her, and when he killed her, it activated a timer. Another explosion went off, pinning him to the spot, and the fucker kept it to himself about the timer. He made us get the women out, and he stayed back, fighting the Cartel soldiers off, so we could all get free. So, the women could get free. Yeah, he’s a damn hero.”
We all know it’s exactly the kind of monumental heroic bullshit that Hurricane would have wanted to go out doing.
I slump further into my seat, sinking down into it, feeling the heaviness of his loss hit me. “I’m so fucking sorry, brother. For the loss of Hurricane. For the loss of your president. For the role that has been thrust onto you, and for the grief that Kaia, his kids, Bayou, Novah, Nash, and Ingrid—” I stop and exhale before continuing, “God, poor fucking Ingrid.”
City’s eyes shoot up to the ceiling, his breath coming faster. His jaw wracks from side to side, and he shakes his head. “He just had his honeymoon in February. He and Kaia took so long to take it, but they finally made the time to go, and they found out she’s pregnant with twins, and now she’ll be bringing those twins into the world without their father. This world is so fucked up.”
Bea makes her way into the Chapel quietly. She took a much-needed break from her duties while we were waiting for everyone to check in. Her job tonight was to monitor the comms, and she did a damn good job at keeping everyone calmand informed. Who better to be in control of the comms and computer systems, while Loki was out on a mission, than Loki’s Old Lady and fellow tech nerd?
She moves into Loki’s side as the tightness in my chest squeezes so hard it’s almost unbearable. City notices Bea, and he exhales, zeroing in on her. “Bea… I need to apologize to you. When I, ahhh…” he clears his throat, then continues, “When I called in on the radio, and told you what happened—”
“Don’t you eventhinkabout apologizing to me for what you said, City. You had gone through something truly harrowing. I was caught off guard by the news. It shook me, and I just wanted clarification, but I didn’t stop to think how asking for it would affect you. I should be the one apologizing. I am so, so sorry for your loss, City,” Bea says with such sincerity that my chest squeezes all over again.
City scrubs at his face, letting out a low huff. “It still feels so fucking surreal. I can’t believe that crazy fucker is actually gone!”
“Whatever you need, brother, we’re here. You tell us when the funeral is, and we’re there. The same goes for Nickel, Six. Their deaths are on me. Because of this war with Javier, I feel responsible,” I state.
City stares at the screen, shaking his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t make their deaths because of a vendetta. They went out fighting. We’re bikers, Alpha.We are Defiance. We know when we patch in that there’s only onetrueway out of this club, and it’s guns-a-blazing protecting our brothers, fighting for a cause bigger than us.”
Six nods his head, a weak smile crossing his face. “Does it hurt? Fuck yeah, it hurts. But City’s right. Every brother wants to go out in a blaze of glory. I don’t know about ya’ll, but I don’t know anyone who wants to be sittin’ back as an old man with Alzheimer’s who can’t remember who he is, or the people he loves.Thisis who we are, Alpha. And death is part of Defiance,we all know that.”
Gritting my teeth, I dip my chin, then raise my drink. “To Hurricane and Nickel.”
My brothers raise their drinks on screen, and we all drink as Loki points to the camera, showing our front doors, where Haven strides in, leading a procession of birds who were waiting for Haven to get back from the hospital. Between them, they drag a figure I’ve been waiting years to see in goddamn chains.
Javier Rojas.
Even unconscious, zip-tied, and beaten, he carries himself with an arrogance that makes my trigger finger itch. His dark hair is matted with blood, and his ridiculous clothes are torn and filthy.
