Page 4 of Victorious: Part 3
I know I should be calculating escape routes.
I know I should be trying to figure out how to get word to Phoenix.
But instead, I’m sitting here trying not to burst into giggles because one of my captors has this ridiculous mustache that makes him look like a second-rate porn star from the seventies.
Focus, Clover. You’re in serious trouble here.
But even that thought makes me want to laugh.
It’s like my brain is wrapped in cotton candy and everything is just, well, amusing.
“She’s awake,” Mustache Guy announces to the room.
Oh fuck!I have to bite my lip to keep from snorting.
Two other men emerge from the shadows, and they all look like they stepped out of aGeneric Cartel Thugs Catalog. Black clothes, dead eyes, the works. One of them has a laptop set up on a metal table, and there is a video call running on the screen.
That’s when I see him.
Javier Rojas.
The man who’s been orchestrating this entire war from behind the scenes, while everyone thought he was just some punk kid playing dress-up in his Uncle Rico’s shadow.
He looks younger than I expected, maybe early thirties, with the kind of refined features that probably made him popular with the ladies before he decided to become a sociopathic criminal mastermind. He’s sitting in what looks like an expensive office, wearing a shirt that is far too brightly colored for a Cartel boss, and I can’t help myself as a giggle escapes me.
How can this guy be the orchestrator of all this chaos?
“Buenos días, Clover,” he chimes with a smile that does not reach his eyes. “I hope my men didn’t handle you too roughly during transport.”
I want to tell him togo fuck himself, but what comes out of my mouth instead is a boisterous, almost manic laugh. “Oh, you know, just the usual kidnapping experience. Four stars, would definitely recommend to friends. Just need the scream masks to make it five stars. Girlslooovethat kinky shit.” I wink at himthrough the screen.
The three guards exchange confused looks, and Javier’s eyebrows rise slightly.
“Truth serum,” the biggest guard explains to Javier in accented English. “We administered it during transport as you instructed, along with a double shot of glucose to counteract the effect the drug has on her sugar levels. She should be unable to lie to us now.”
He smiles wider, like he is proud of the guard. “Ahh, excellent,” Javier says, leaning forward in his chair. “Now then, Clover, let’s have a little chat about LA Defiance and their plans regarding my organization.”
Another giggle bubbles up from my chest, and I can’t stop it. “Oh, this is rich. You think I know anything about their plans? Dude! Theyliterallysent me to Vegas to get me away from all your Cartel bullshit.”
It’s the truth, and apparently, the serum is working exactly as intended. But instead of feeling violated or panicked about my inability to filter my thoughts, I simply find the whole situation absurdly funny, plus this sugar hit feels real damn good.
Better than any juice box pick-me-up!
“Surely, you must knowsomething,” Javier presses. “You’re Maverick’s sister. Phoenix confides in you. You’re living at the clubhouse.”
“Yeah, well… here’s the thing about being Maverick’s sister,” I say, another laugh escaping. “He treats me like I’m made of glass and might shatter at any minute, especially if I hear anythingtoo scary. And Phoenix? Phoenix has been too busy trying to get into my pants to give me a detailed breakdown of biker business 101.” The words are out before I can stop them, and even though they’re true, they make me laugh harder.
The guards are looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, which only makes everything funnier.
“Está loca,”Mustache Guy mutters. “Is this even working?”
“She is crazy…” Javier says calmly, “… but the serum is working perfectly. We need a little more time for her to loosen up a bit more.”
One of the other guards, a guy with a scar running from his ear to his jaw, steps closer to me. “Maybe we need to encourage her memory,” he suggests, cracking his knuckles.
The sound should terrify me.
The implication should have me begging for mercy.
