Page 28 of Victorious, Part 2 (The LA Defiance MC #6)

PHOENIX

The city sprawls before us like a neon fever dream, its skyline flickering to life as the sun dips low, casting long shadows across the desert. Soon, it won’t be the sun lighting our way, it’ll be the glittering chaos of Vegas.

From the passenger seat, Clover lets out a soft breath that sounds like wonder laced with relief, and I get it. After three days of wrong turns, right feelings, and everything in between, the shimmering edges of civilization feel like oxygen.

“There she is,” she murmurs, her voice carrying something I can’t quite name. “The city that never sleeps.”

“That’s New York,” I correct automatically, then catch her grin. “But Vegas definitely has insomnia issues.”

The Strip unfolds ahead of us, a kaleidoscope of lights beginning to flicker to life even though the sun hasn’t fully set. It’s as if we are watching a transformation from day to night, from ordinary to extraordinary.

Kind of like what’s been happening between us.

Dracula stretches in the back seat, fixing me with his judgmental yellow stare through the rearview. The little psychopath has claimed the entire back seat as his kingdom, sprawled across Clover’s jacket as though he’s posing for a magazine shoot.

“Your cat’s giving me attitude again,” I tell her.

“ Our cat,” she corrects, and something warm unfurls in my chest at the word ‘our.’ “And he’s just jealous you’re not giving him enough attention.”

Our.

Like we’re a team.

Like we’re building something together instead of running from everything behind us.

I navigate through the increasing traffic, the weight of arrival settling over us.

We’re two days late, which means Sin, Las Vegas Defiance’s President, is probably ready to rip my head off and use it as a bowling ball.

The man doesn’t do patience on his best days, and having people show up late when there’s chaos brewing back home isn’t going to improve his damn mood.

“We need to check in with Vegas Defiance,” I say, pulling out my phone. “Sin’s probably ready to send a search party.”

Clover nods, her fingers drumming against her thigh. “He’s going to be pissed we’re late.”

“Understatement of the year. But first, we need to get to our digs.”

The safehouse Alpha arranged is in a quieter part of town, away from the chaos of The Strip, but close enough that we can disappear into the crowd if needed. It’s a small hotel that looks as if it’s seen better decades, the kind of place that doesn’t ask questions and doesn’t keep detailed records.

“Home sweet home,” Clover chimes as we pull into the parking lot, but there’s no sarcasm in her voice. Just exhaustion and maybe a little gratitude that we’re finally here.

The desk clerk barely looks up from his magazine when we check in, sliding a single key across the heavily damaged counter with the enthusiasm of a sedated sloth.

We side-eye each other at the lack of communication, but honestly, I am far too tired to give a flying fuck right now.

Ushering Clover back out, and toward our room, it’s not until we’re standing outside the door, key in hand, that the reality hits.

One room.

One key.

One bed.

“Well…” Clover says, peering through the window of the ground-floor room, “… this is cozy.”

Swallowing hard, I unlock the door, and we step inside.

Dracula immediately bolts from his makeshift carrier to inspect every corner like he’s conducting a security sweep.

The room is exactly what you’d expect, like tired carpet, generic art, and a bed that takes up most of the space—a double, not even a queen.

“I’ll take the floor,” I state automatically, dropping our bags near the door.

Clover turns to look at me, one eyebrow raised, and there’s something in her expression that makes my pulse kick. “Don’t you think we’re a little past that?”

The question hangs in the air between us, loaded with everything that’s happened over the past few days. The kisses. The confessions. The way we’ve been circling each other like moths around a flame, getting closer and closer to igniting with the heat.

“Clover—”

“Phoenix.” Her voice is soft but sure. “We’ve been sleeping next to each other for three nights. We’ve been… whatever this is that we’ve been doing. We even called this a relationship, right? I think we can share a bed without the world ending.”

She’s right, and we both know it. The line we’ve been pretending exists between us has been getting blurrier every day with every touch, every moment we choose each other over the safe distance we should probably be maintaining.

“Okay,” I say, and it comes out rougher than I intended. “But I call dibs on the side closest to the door.”

“Done,” she chimes as I advance around the room, checking the bathroom, testing the air conditioning. “Security protocol?” she asks.

“Old habits,” I state, watching her move, the way she’s making herself at home in this generic space. “Plus, if someone comes through that door, I want to be the first thing they meet.”

Something flickers across her face, surprise maybe, or something softer. She’s used to Maverick protecting her. I guess maybe she now has to get used to me doing it too.

And I am going to because whether she knows it yet or not, Clover is mine to take care of.

Or maybe the look she’s giving me right now means she knows she’s mine.

I continue to do my security sweep while Dracula claims the center of the bed, sprawling out as though he’s surveying his new kingdom. He looks completely at home, which is more than I can say for myself right now.

“I should call Sin,” I say, while pulling out my cell again. “Let him know we’re here before he decides we’re dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Clover nods, settling cross-legged on the bed next to Dracula, who immediately starts purring like a tiny engine.

She pulls out her own phone, probably checking messages from home, and her face lights up from the screen.

There’s something different about her now, still alert, still watchful, but some of the tension has eased from her shoulders.

Being away from LA and the immediate threat is good for her.

Even if it means we’re playing with fire, being this close together.

Leaning back against the wall to focus my attention away from Clover and the extremely bad things I want to do to her in this room, I hit Sin’s number and wait for him to pick up, already preparing for the verbal ass-kicking I’m about to receive.

“Phoenix.” His voice comes through the line like gravel mixed with annoyance. “You’re two fucking days late.”

“Yeah, we had some detours. Car trouble, you know how it is.”

“Do I?” There’s a pause, and I can practically hear him counting to ten. “You were supposed to check in two days ago. Do you have any idea what’s been going on back home while you’ve been playing tourist?”

Guilt hits me like a sledgehammer. While we’ve been taking our time, finding excuses to stretch out the trip, focusing on our own drama, the club has been dealing with real shit. The kind that could get people killed.

“We’re here now,” I say. “Safe and sound.”

“Good. Because I was about to send Nitro and Bear to track your asses down.” Sin’s voice carries that particular brand of irritation that means he’s been worried and is covering it with anger.

“Given what’s happening with your club back home, I figured you might need some backup.

Someone watching your six while you’re in my territory.

I’ll send a brother to your location, just text it to me. ”

I glance at Clover, who’s watching me with curious eyes. “We appreciate the offer, but—”

“It wasn’t an offer, brother.” His tone reminds me he’s doing us a favor, letting us operate in his city. “You’re carrying precious cargo, and you’re in my city . That makes you my responsibility. Whether you like it or not.”

Precious cargo.

If Clover heard that, she’d probably have some choice words about being called cargo. But I get what he means. She’s not just Maverick’s sister, she’s the heart of LA Defiance in a lot of ways, and if something happens to her on Sin’s watch, there’ll be hell to pay.

“We’ll come by the clubhouse tomorrow,” I tell him. “We can discuss it then.”

“You’ll come by tonight if I tell you to come by tonight.”

“Sin.” I keep my voice level, respectful but firm.

“We just got here. We need to get settled, get some food, and figure out our next steps. Clover’s tired.

I have to ensure her glucose doesn’t drop.

I want her to take it easy. Maybe have a walk along The Strip, see the lights.

But I assure you, we will come by tomorrow. ”

Another pause, longer this time. Then a sound that might be a laugh if Sin ever did anything as undignified as laughing.

“Fair enough. But Phoenix? Don’t make me wait again. I don’t like waiting, and my patience is already stretched thinner than a cheap condom. No one likes it when they break. And you don’t want me to break, Phoenix.”

Smirking at his analogy, I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Understood.”

“Good. Bring Clover by tomorrow. I want to meet the woman who’s got you wrapped around her finger.” The line goes dead before I can protest that assessment, leaving me staring at my phone and wondering how the hell Sin managed to read the situation so accurately from a thousand miles away.

Fuck.

“How’d that go?” Clover asks, amusement clear in her voice.

“About as well as expected. He’s pissed we’re late, wants to assign us babysitters, and somehow knows way more about our situation than he should.”

“Club presidents talk to each other. Alpha probably filled him in.” She scratches behind Dracula’s ears, earning another purr. “What did he say about protection?”

“That we’re in his city now, which makes us his responsibility. And that he doesn’t trust us to stay out of trouble on our own.”

“Smart man.” She looks up at me, and there’s something in her eyes that makes my chest tight. “So, what now?”

Now? Good fucking question.