Page 16 of Victorious: Part 3
I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the sofa. The image of my nineteen-year-old sister married to one of my brothers keeps replaying in my mind, and each time it does, my protective instincts war with my trust in Phoenix as a man.
Because that’s the thing that’s really fucking with my head.
Idotrust Phoenix.
I have trusted him since the day he earned his cut.
He’s proven himself over and over, shown his loyalty to this club and to me.
But Clover isn’t justany woman.
She’smy responsibility, my blood,and the thought of anyonehurting her makes me want to burn the world down.
“Look, they’ll be home soon,” Sadie says quietly, checking her phone. “Clover texted twenty minutes ago. They’re about half an hour out.”
“So, my sister is texting you, rather than me?”
Sadie shrugs. “You’re super grumpy, Mav. They’re both scared of you and your reaction at the moment. And honestly, they have every right to be with how you’re acting right now. Everyone at the club could see that Phoenix and Clover had something. You were the only one pushing them apart. I love you.God, I love you. But baby, you’re your own worst enemy when it comes to Clover. You gotta loosen those reins, honey.”
I go to reply, but the sound of a pickup truck rumbling into the compound draws my attention to the windows. But it’s not Phoenix and Clover, it’s a red pickup I don’t recognize or the two people inside.
“Who the fuck is that?” I mutter, standing up and moving toward the door.
Sadie follows me outside, where Alpha and Haven are already greeting the newcomers. The driver is tall and lean with dark hair and the kind of easy smile that probably gets him in trouble. His impeccable tailored suit also tells me he definitely doesnotbelong in a place like this. The second is a woman with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes who scans the compound like she’s cataloging every possible exit.
Suddenly, Rip comes flying past us, running toward the two. The dark-haired man’s eyes light up as Rip slams into him, full bro hug style.
“Guys, come meet Chase and Lyric. Dude, it is so freaking gnarly to see you again, man,” Rip states, continuing to slap Chase on the back.
I approach cautiously, my protective instincts still on high alert from everything that’s been happening, especially with howclose we are to launching our counterattack on the Cartel.
The woman, Lyric, looks completely out of place, her eyes wide as she takes in the clubhouse, our cuts, the general atmosphere of organized chaos. She’s clutching Chase’s arm like she’s not sure she should be here. “This is… wow,” she murmurs, staring at the Defiance logo painted on the building. “I had no idea places like this actually existed. I thought it was all show for movies and television shows, but this is… wow,” she repeats.
Chase chuckles, clearly amused by her reaction. “Different world, isn’t it?”
“Chase,” Alpha offers, extending his hand.
“Heard a lot about you,” Chase replies, gripping Alpha’s hand firmly. “Rip’s told me some stories.”
I raise my brow, my gaze flipping between Chase and Rip. “How do you know Rip?”
Chase glances at Lyric, then at Rip, something unspoken being said between them.
But it’s Rip who answers, “We used to be surfing bros back in the day. Chasing gnarly waves and the babes, am I right?” Rip waggles his brows with a chuckle.
Chase fights back his grin. “Ahh… something like that,” he states, glancing at Lyric, who smirks back at him.
“Hey, I’ve only known you for a hot minute, Chase, don’t hold back your manwhoring ways because of me,” Lyric teases.
Rip pulls Chase to him, chuckling loudly. “Oh no, Lyric. You got my man all wrong. Chase ain’t like that now. He’s all cool and calm like a soft breeze. He’s not about the babes now. Right, bro?”
Chase exhales, shaking his head with a smile. “I’m not sure you’re helping, Rip. But, thanks for trying.”
“Yeah, bro, I’m down to help anytime! Anyway, you said you wanted to bring me something on the phone?” Rip states.
Chase tilts his head, moving to the rear of his truck. “Ahh,yeah. I think you guys have been missing something?” He drops the flatbed of the truck to reveal an array of flowers scattered through the flatbed. We all peer through the debris as a tiny head pokes out from the back, chomping down on a bunch of roses, letting out his familiar bleating sound.
Baaa.
