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

PHOENIX

We continue to stare at each other, trying to take in the fact that we could have died in that fucking chaos. I think about speaking, but choose to sit in the moment with her.

Still frantically breathing.

Still silent.

Until Clover tries to swallow down a broken inhale. But it’s no use, and the dam breaks. Her shoulders curl in, trembling under the weight of everything she’s been holding back, and the sound that comes out of her next is not just crying.

It’s grief.

It’s rage.

It’s utter, undeniable helplessness.

A gut-wrenching sob cuts through the cab like shrapnel, and I swear I feel it embed in my soul. So, I reach for her. Gently. Slowly. My hand finds her back, trembling beneath my touch, and I press my palm between her shoulder blades. A silent promise that I’m here.

“Clo…” I murmur, leaning in. “I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t pull away.

Not at first.

For a moment, she lets me hold her.

My arm slides around her shoulders, drawing her close. She folds into me like a house of cards collapsing. Her fingers slide up, clenching my shirt quietly, fragile in ways she’ll never admit.

I rest my cheek against her hair, my throat too tight to speak as we sit in the aftermath.

And then, a switch flips, and her body goes rigid. She shoves me back with both hands, jerking away from my hold as if I’ve burned her, her face contorted with rage as she glares at me with the venom of a thousand snakes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snaps, voice raw from tears.

Furrowing my brows in confusion, I jerk my head back. “I-I’m trying to help—”

“You don’t get to help,” she cries, wrenching the door open so fast it bangs against the hinges as she jumps out faster than lightning.

What the ? “Clover—”

She storms off before I can finish, slamming the door behind her with enough force to shake the whole damn cab.

I sit here, stunned, the echo of that slam ringing louder than her sobs.

What the fuck just happened?

One second, she was collapsing in my arms, needing comfort, the next, I’m the enemy again?

I watch through the windshield as she storms away, fists clenched, jaw tight, as though she’s daring the world to try her.

And for a second, I stay frozen.

I don’t move.

I don’t breathe.

I hesitate, torn between chasing after her or giving her the space she probably needs, before she turns that fire back on me and burns me with it.

But then she spins around, eyes blazing like a goddamn storm, and marches toward the truck with lethal purpose. She yanks the passenger door open so violently that it ricochets off the hinge with a metallic clang. “Move!” she snaps, the word sharp enough to cut.

And just like that, I’m on fire too.

I step out, slow and deliberate, the door swinging shut behind me with a thud that feels final. My boots hit the dirt just as hers do. We meet in the open between the truck and the desert, the tension between us so thick it could choke us both.

She stole my truck.

She left me in the middle of bumfuck-nowhere and decided to drive back to LA on her own.

And she’s angry at me?

Letting out a scoff as she continues her aggressive pacing, I fold my arms across my chest, my own anger igniting now. “What the actual fuck were you thinking?” I explode. “Do you have a death wish?”

“I was trying to get home,” she yells, her voice already cracked from crying. “ God forbid I care if the people I love are alive or bleeding out in the damn street!” Her sarcasm isn’t lost on me.

“So, you hijacked the truck like a goddamn lunatic? Swerved into oncoming traffic as though you’re in a fucking action movie?”

“You weren’t supposed to stop me.”

“Well, too-fucking-bad . I did! ” I shout, stepping closer. “Because I’m not letting you throw yourself into a war zone just because your feelings are hurt.”

Her mouth falls open like I’ve just slapped her. “My feelings are hurt? Are you kidding me right now?”

“You nearly got us killed, Clover!”

“Then maybe you should’ve let me go.”

“You think I could do that? You think I could watch you drive away and never come back?”

“Yes!” she screams. “Because it’s my choice. Not yours.”

“You don’t get to make that call.”

“Like hell I don’t!” she spits. “You don’t own me, Phoenix. You don’t get to chain me to your side and decide what risks I’m allowed to take.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t want your damn protection… I want my fucking f-freedom!” Her voice cracks on that last word, and her hands clench into fists. Her whole body shakes, and she’s one breath away from completely falling apart.

And I’m not far behind.

“I made a promise to your brother,” I growl. “I told him I’d keep you safe.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Well, you sure as hell need someone,” I shout. “Because whatever the fuck you’re doing right now, it’s not brave, Clover. It’s self-destructive.”

She recoils like I’ve slapped her. “You think I don’t know that?

” she hisses. “You think I don’t feel as if I’m coming apart at the seams every second we’re out here?

That I don’t hear the silence in my chest where my family should be?

I’m terrified, Phoenix . But I’m still standing. I’m still fucking trying.”

I drag a hand down my face, my heart thudding. “You think this isn’t killing me too?”

“Then why the fuck won’t you act like it?” she screams.

“I am!”

“You’re acting like a motherfucking robot. Not someone who gives a damn.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“No. It’s the truth,” she yells, shoving me back with both hands.

“You can’t even admit what this is. You act as if I’m a mission, a checklist, a goddamn promise.

But you don’t feel, Phoenix. You never fucking feel!

” She lets out a frustrated groan. “I’m done being handled,” she whispers finally, her voice shaking.

“Done being told what I feel, what I need, who I am. You don’t get to decide for me. ”

I shake my head, my jaw tight. “I’m not trying to decide for you.”

“Yes, you are,” she says. “You always are. I have to go back,” she sobs. “I have to make sure they’re okay.”

“By getting us both killed on the highway?”

She scoffs, turning away from me and begins pacing again. “You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Clover, that’s my sister back there too. You think I don’t want to know if she’s safe? You think this isn’t killing me?”

She looks up at me through her tears, and I see past her desperation to the fear underneath.

She’s terrified.

We both are.

“Then why won’t you let us go back?” she whispers.

That’s when I completely lose it.

All the fear, all the frustration, all the guilt and uncertainty and terror that’s been building since the moment we lost contact comes pouring out like a dam bursting.

“ Because it’s my job to keep you safe,” I roar.

“Because your brother looked me in the eye and made me promise that nothing would happen to you. Because if I let you walk into whatever’s waiting back there and you get hurt, I’ll never forgive myself. ”

She stares at me, tears streaming down her face. “That’s not your choice to make.”

“Yes. It is,” I say firmly. “When you’re being reckless and—”

I stop myself, but it’s too late.

The word hangs in the air between us like a live grenade.

“Reckless and what?” she asks, her voice dangerously quiet.

Stupid.

That’s what I was going to say.

Reckless and stupid .

But I can’t say it now, can’t give voice to the thought that’s been lurking in the back of my mind.

Because it’s not true.

She’s not stupid.

She’s desperate, terrified, and trying to save the people she loves, and calling her stupid would be the cruelest thing I could possibly do.

“Nothing,” I say, but she can see it in my eyes.

“No, you were going to say something,” she presses. “Reckless and what , Phoenix?”

I run both hands through my hair, frustration and guilt building in my chest. “Clover, I didn’t mean—”

“You were going to say stupid, weren’t you?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but it hits me like a physical blow. “Poor little Clover, too reckless and stupid to make her own decisions.”

“That’s not what I think—”

“Isn’t it, though?” She swipes at her eyes angrily. “God, you’re just like everyone else. Just like Maverick, like the club, like everyone who’s ever looked at me and seen someone who needs to be protected instead of someone who can take care of herself.”

“Clover—”

“I’m not a child,” she shouts. “I’m not some helpless little girl who needs a big, strong man to keep her safe. I’m a grown woman who’s capable of making her own choices. Even if you don’t like them.”

She goes to slap me, and I react instinctively, catching her wrist before her palm can connect with my face.

For a moment, we’re frozen—her hand trapped in mine, both of us breathing hard, staring at each other with a mixture of anger and pain and something else that I don’t want to name.

Then something shifts in the air between us.

The anger is still there, but underneath it is something raw, desperate, and completely combustible. All the fear we’ve been carrying, all the uncertainty, all the terror of loss is boiling over, transforming into something else entirely.

Something dangerous.

I release her wrist and step forward, backing her against the side of the truck.

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t try to move away.

“I can’t lose you,” I growl, my voice rough with emotion. “Do you understand that? I can’t fucking lose you, Clover.”

“Phoenix,” she whispers, but I see it in her eyes.

She feels it too.

This thing that’s been building between us since the moment we met.

“I promised him I’d keep you safe,” I continue, my hands bracing against the truck on either side of her. The electricity between us begins to crackle and pop. “But it’s not just about the promise anymore. It’s not just about duty or orders or any of that shit.”

She inhales sharply. “Then what is it about?” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the desert wind.