Page 14 of Victorious, Part 2 (The LA Defiance MC #6)

“Of course I did,” Nash says, pulling her against him. “You’re my mom. I couldn’t let you go through this without us. And I’m a grown man, Mom,” he adds on the end for emphasis.

Ingrid smirks, cupping his cheek. “Of course you are, honey.”

I watch the reunion with a mixture of emotions. Happiness that Ingrid has her family here, but also a sharp pang of something I can’t quite name.

This is her real family.

Her sons.

Her people.

And seeing how complete she looks surrounded by them makes me realize how torn my own heart is between two cities, two families.

Hurricane, always needing to be the center of attention when it comes to Ingrid, holds tightly onto her, as if refusing to let her go, when Bayou nudges him. “Hey, man, let the rest of us get some mom time.”

“I was here first,” Hurricane grumbles like an errant child, but the smile crossing his face tells me he’s all talk.

“You’re always here first.” Nash laughs. “Some of us have real jobs that don’t involve terrorizing people on motorcycles.”

It’s exactly the kind of banter that would normally make me laugh, but right now it just emphasizes how much this is Ingrid’s world, not mine.

Bella has been tracking the whole reunion, and happiness shines bright in her eyes despite everything she is going through.

“Look who came to see you, Bells,” I tell her softly. “Remember the NOLA family? Hurricane and the guys? And Nash, Ingrid’s son.”

Hurricane approaches the bed carefully, his usual swagger replaced by gentle concern. “Hey there, darlin’. You been giving my boy, South, here trouble?”

Bella’s eyes sparkle, and she manages the smallest movement, which might have been a nod if she could still move her head.

“Good,” Hurricane chimes with a soft chuckle. “Someone’s gotta keep him in line.”

“Pfft.” I snort out a laugh. “Keep me in line? There’s a reason they call you Hurricane, just saying,” I reply.

Hurricane grins widely. “Yeah, ’cause when I come, I come hard, and I leave everythin’ tremblin’ in my wake.”

We all cringe as Ingrid visibly shudders. “Jesus, Hurricane, I do not need to hear shit like that. Now shush and say hello to your little brother,” Ingrid states, showing off Louis to them. The happiness in her expression makes my chest tight.

Nash immediately reaches for Louis. “Hey there, little brother,” Nash says, taking Louis, who immediately starts babbling happily. “Holy shit, he’s gotten huge.”

“Language,” Ingrid scolds, but she’s beaming from ear to ear.

That’s when I notice Novah slip into the room, holding a huge basket of food, a bunch of flowers, and a card. My heart instantly lifts a little.

I didn’t even know she came with the rest of them.

“Novah! My baby girl,” Ingrid cries, fresh tears starting as she throws her arms open for her daughter.

“I couldn’t let them come without me,” Novah chimes, placing everything on the counter, then hugging Ingrid tight. “How are you holding up, Mom?”

But then Novah sees Nash holding Louis, and her entire expression changes. “Oh my God, can I hold him? Pleeease? I’ve missed him so much.”

Everyone chuckles as Nash reluctantly hands Louis over, and Novah immediately melts. “Look at you, little man. You’re so perfect with those chubby little cheeks.” She cuddles Louis against her chest, swaying slightly, and Bayou watches her with an expression that’s part love, part terror.

“Don’t you get any ideas,” Bayou mutters to his Old Lady.

Novah shoots him a look. “What? I’m just holding my little brother.”

Nash starts laughing. “Man, watching my sister get clucky while holding her baby brother, and getting told off for being clucky by her stepbrother, husband, is some serious therapy-level shit right there.”

“Shut up!” Novah snaps, but she’s grinning, still swaying with Louis.

“I love you guys,” Ingrid chimes, the smile lighting her face as I stand back watching her with her family.

Despite everything, despite Bella dying in the bed next to us, I can’t help but smile too.

This is family.

My messy, complicated, beautiful family.

But as I watch Ingrid surrounded by her children, as I see how complete and happy she looks with them, that torn feeling in my chest grows stronger.

She belongs here with them.

And I? I belong in Los Angeles, fighting a war with my chosen brothers.

As the afternoon turns to evening, the room fills with quiet laughter and gentle conversation. Louis has been passed around between all his NOLA family members, completely comfortable and happy, surrounded by people who love him.

It’s Hurricane who notices first. “Hey,” he says quietly, his voice more gentle than I’ve ever heard it. “I think Bella’s tryin’a tell us somethin’.”

We all look at my sister, her eyes moving between me and the nightstand beside her bed. I follow her gaze and see a sealed envelope with my name written on it. The handwriting is shaky, clearly written months ago when she still had movement in her hands.

I glance down at her and weakly smile. “You want me to read this?” I ask.

She manages the smallest movement with her eyes, the only way she can nod now.

With trembling fingers, I open the envelope and unfold the letter inside. The handwriting shows the progression of her disease, starting stronger at the top, getting shakier as it goes on.

I clear my throat and begin to read aloud, “My dearest Romeo, I’m writing this while I still can, knowing that someday soon you’ll be reading it when I can no longer speak.” I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what is next.

“First, I need you to know how proud I am of the man you’ve become. You walked away from everything Mom and Dad wanted for you and built a life that makes you happy. That takes courage.”

I can’t help but smile.

“Watching you find love with Ingrid has been one of the greatest joys of my life. She loves you completely, and little Louis is lucky to have you as his father. You’re going to be an amazing dad…

” I pause, my emotions starting to hit me as I glance over at Ingrid holding our one-year-old.

She beams at me, giving me the strength I need to keep going.

“… so much better than our father ever was. But Romeo, I need you to promise me something. If the club is in trouble, I need you to fight. I need you to protect your family. Ingrid, Louis, and all those brothers who will probably be reading this with you.”

I glance up, my eyes meeting Hurricane’s.

He simply nods at me, knowing where my head is going.

Right back to LA Defiance, so I continue, “Don’t let my illness be the reason you hold back from doing what needs to be done.

I’m not afraid of dying. I’m afraid of you living with regret.

Fight for what matters. Fight for the family you’ve chosen.

You have my permission to be the warrior I know you are. ”

I take a deep breath just to steady myself, crane my neck to the side, and then keep reading.

“You already know I left my business to you to do with as you see fit. What you don’t know is that I also started a high-interest savings account for Louis.

” I stop talking and turn to face my sister, her eyes glistening with fresh tears as I stare at her.

“Bells,” Ingrid whispers, her hand reaching out to take my sister’s.

Swallowing hard as I fight back the urge to break into a river of fucking emotion, I shift my gaze to Ingrid and continue, clearing my throat, “I put fifty thousand dollars to start, with a compounded interest rate of ten percent per year. It’s locked until Louis turns twenty-one.

By then, it’ll be worth more than six times that.

He’ll have a future…” My eyes lock with Ingrid’s watering ones again as I say this next part, written by my dying sister. “Because he deserves one.”

My bottom lip quivers, a single tear sliding down my cheek as I quickly swipe it away. “I love you, little brother. Take care of our family. Always, Bella.”

I sniff back, clearing my throat, and by the time I finish reading, Ingrid and Novah are complete messes. Even Hurricane clears the emotion from his throat, trying to be subtle about it.

I look up at Bella, whose eyes are bright with tears but also somehow peaceful. Moving beside her, I hold her limp hand and nod at her. “I promise,” I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. “I promise I’ll fight for them. For all of them. And thank you. Thank you so fucking much, Bells.”

Her eyes flutter closed briefly, and when they open again, I see relief.

Like maybe she knows we’re going to be okay.

And with that, she closes her eyes to rest.

The NOLA family stays through the evening, taking turns sitting with Bella, sharing stories, and making sure she knows she’s surrounded by people who love her.

We laugh when we can, reminisce when we need to, and hold onto the little moments like they’re lifelines.

We speak softly because louder words might pull her farther from us.

Every second, every breath she takes, feels as if it could be the last.

So, we cherish them.

Cling to them.

Drown in them.

But as night falls, I notice the signs. Bella’s breathing becomes more irregular. The machine is working harder. The nurses are checking on her more frequently. Her body is growing stiller, her spirit, I swear, flickers like a candle at the edge of the wind.

Around three in the morning, Dr. Patterson, Bella’s physician, gently pulls me aside. “It won’t be long now,” he says quietly. “Her body’s shutting down. The machine is the only thing keeping her breathing, and even that won’t help much longer.”

I nod, my throat too tight to speak.

The words drop like stones into my stomach. My entire body clenches, trying to hold onto something I’ve already begun to lose.

As I turn to rejoin the others, the elevator doors down the hallway slide open, and someone I wasn’t expecting to see steps out.

Dr. Lachlan Rhodes.