I check the date on the complaint and see that it’s from … sophomore year.
“What the hell?” I ask, seeing that the complainant is a student that no longer attends Prescott. Mostly because Havoc chased him off. But why would Vic stand up for me during sophomore year? That’s the year they tortured me; it doesn’t make any sense.
Licking my lower lip, I shove the paper back in the box and stare at it.
This is a lot of ammo.
This … is a ticking time bomb set to go off against the boys I hated more than anyone else, the only people I couldn’t figure out a way to get revenge on. And here this box is, full of uncovered secrets. I bet Vaughn had the box in his office because he was getting ready to go after the boys again—Vic especially.
What would a Havoc Girl do though? I think, pushing the box away with my heel and trying to think. I could take this box, hold onto it and wait for the guys to finish my list up. Then I could nail them with it. At the very least, I might be able to get Vic kicked out of school, so he’d lose his inheritance—I don’t really expect him to give me a cut anyway.
I could run, and pawn the ring, and …
But no.
Blood in and blood out, right?
“When you’ve been lied to by everyone around you, when you have nothing else, you realize the one currency you can carry is truth. So a single word does have meaning. A promise does hold importance. And a pact is worth carrying to the grave.”
What would a Havoc Girl do?
She’d burn this shit to the ground.
“You can thank me later,” I say as the boys come around the corner and find me sitting on the ground next to Hael’s car. I remember Vic telling me not to touch the damn thing without Hael’s permission, but he doesn’t seem bothered by me leaning against it.
“Thank you for what?” Vic says as he notices the still-smoking trash can sitting next to the dumpster.
“Ms. Keating found a box of everything Principal Vaughn had on you guys from over the years: reports of bullying, vandalism, violence. He had a freaking goldmine ready to nail your asses with. I’m guessing since he had it hidden under his desk, he was getting ready to use it.”
“And how’d you end up with it?” Hael asks as Callum chuckles and leans in to examine the smoking remains. He glances up at me and winks one of those pretty blue eyes of his in my direction.
“She pulled me into her office for some sort of ridiculous pep talk,” I say, tucking my hands into my pockets and feeling my own report crinkle under my fingers. “I stole it and jumped out the window.”
“Ooh, you’re gonna be in so much fucking trouble on Monday,” Callum says, grinning. Hael still looks distracted while Aaron stares at me like he’s never seen me before. Oscar is studying me with a discerning eye, but at least Vic looks happy.
“What’s in your pocket?” Oscar asks, blinking gray eyes at me. The question sounds casual, but there’s so much menace in it. Nobody misses his tone.
“Empty your pockets,” Vic says, frowning and giving Oscar a look. “If you’re gonna accuse a member of Havoc, you carry it through. I don’t like idle threats.”
I do as Vic asked, my palms sweating as I pull out the crumpled piece of paper, my lighter, and two dollars in cash. Vic strides forward, sliding his hands up my side and checking inside my jacket for anything I might’ve missed. Or maybe he’s just doing that on pretense, and is actually feeling me up instead?
Our eyes meet as he steps back and unfolds the single piece of paper.
Oscar’s gaze darkens, like he expected as much, but then Vic turns and thrusts the stapled pages at his friend’s chest.
“Don’t doubt our girl,” he warns as Oscar opens up the page and reads it, his eyes narrowing slightly before he passes it back to me, albeit reluctantly.
“I’m sorry, Bernadette,” he says in that smooth, easy voice of his. “I was wrong, and I’m not often wrong.”
“Wrong, how?” I ask, shoving the papers back in my pocket as Oscar adjusts his glasses.
“I assumed you’d keep more than your own confession.” He glances over at the smoking trash can. “That is, unless you stored the remaining pages elsewhere.”
“Oscar, that’s enough,” Vic snaps, and even Aaron looks frustrated, raking his fingers through his wavy brown hair.
“You can doubt me all you want,” I say, stepping up close to Oscar, my heels putting us more or less on the same level. “But I didn’t have to steal that box. I could’ve just left it in Ms. Keating’s office and let her drop the gavel on Havoc. Or I could’ve hidden it and you never would’ve known I had it.” A smile curves my lips as I meet Oscar’s eyes and stare him down. He’s not an easy person to lock gazes with, I’ll admit. But I refuse to back down. After all, I did beat his ass not too long ago. “Did it cross my mind to use that box against you? Yeah, it did.” I step back and shake my head, reaching up to fluff my hair. “But I guess I’d rather let you guys get away with all the rotten shit you did than be a liar like everyone else I know.”
Oscar smiles, this wicked sharp version of the expression, but I feel like I at least gained a point or two with him.
“No wonder Ms. Keating was running around in a huff,” Aaron says, giving me an assessing sort of look, like he’s wondering where good girl Bernadette went. I guess she died around the same time good boy Aaron did. Because, let’s face it, nice guys really do finish last. “You’ll get suspended, at the very least.”
“Maybe,” I say, well-aware of the risk. “But she also has this weird, savior complex thing going on. I might be able to get away with detention.”
“Well-done, Bernadette,” Vic says, pride clear in his rumbling voice. His eyes sparkle as he takes me in, rubbing at his chin. He’s not going to let me forget that we fucked in the bathroom today. Without a condom. I grit my teeth. I know I’m being an idiot, but to be honest, it’s hard to care. The only thing that matters is the here and now. The future is an intangible possibility that I may or may not be around to see. “Boys, let’s load up and hit the Halloween store. We need fucking costumes—preferably with masks.”
The Hellhole is a spooky little shop that’s open year-round in Springfield, located in what used to be a seedy bar on Main Street. This time of year, it’s overflowing with customers, but there are plenty of Prescott students who come here to buy (or steal) shit to wear to school. Case in point: the heels with the big silver skulls on them that I’m currently wearing.
Yep, got them at the Hellhole.
It’s sort of like … the anti-Hot Topic. Like, Hot Topic is where you shop for goth shit if you go to Fuller High and live in a nice middle-class house in a nice middle-class neighborhood.
Hellhole is the place you shop when you eat middle-class kids for breakfast.
“It’s claustrophobic as fuck in here,” Aaron murmurs, looking through rubber masks on one of the walls. This place is not only packed to the gills with people, but there’s so much product in here, the aisles are barely wide enough for a single person to squeeze down. Shit is hanging from the ceiling, the walls, the ten-foot racks in the middle of the room.
I notice the sweat on Aaron’s brow, and I remember that he really is claustrophobic. On instinct, I reach out and brush some hair from his forehead. Then he freezes, and I remember that we’ve been broken up for years, and that I fucking hate his face.
“Buck up, Havoc Boy,” I say, pulling a bloodied mask off the wall and slipping it over my head. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re too pretty to wear a mask,” he says, yanking it off my head and putting it on his own before I can think up a response. “Better?”
“You’ll make Kara and Ashley cry,” I say, turning away and moving from the masks section to the—for lack of a better word—slutty costume portion of the store. Look at that, I can be whatever I want to be—astronaut, firefighter, police officer—just so long as I’m selling sex while I’m doing it.
I notice Hael in the corner, tapp
ing away at his phone, and I get this hot, angry flush all over my skin.
“Brittany?” I ask, and he lifts his head up, like he hadn’t realized I was standing there. He shoots for one of his signature smirks, but it just doesn’t stick.
“She wants to meet to talk,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do. I just know that’s not my fucking kid.”
“Maybe she poked a hole in a condom?” I say, feeling annoyed that I even have to discuss Hael having sex with Brittany. I mean, I’ve had sex with a few guys I didn’t really like, so it’s not like we don’t all make mistakes at some point in our lives. Still, I hate the idea of it anyway.
“Nope. I always provide my own condoms, always open them, always put them on.” He lets out a long sigh, and reaches up to rub at his face, pausing as two freshmen giggle and apologize as they squeeze past him.
“What if you got drunk, got hot and heavy one night, and forgot a condom?” I suggest, but Hael just gives me a look.
“You don’t forget unless you really like a girl,” he says, glancing down at his phone again. He doesn’t seem to notice the way my body tenses up. Like how Vic always forgets? Or just doesn’t seem to care … “There’s no way I’d ever forget with someone like Brittany. Having a kid with her would be my worst nightmare.”
“Set up a time and place to meet her,” Vic says, making me jump as he appears behind me, slipping out from the next aisle over, skeletons hanging over his head, and an animatronic Cerberus snarling behind him. “But make it after Halloween. Lie if you have to. We have enough shit to deal with this week.”
“I’ll fucking try,” Hael says with another sigh, hitting the power button on his phone and turning the screen off. He slips it in his pocket and then grabs a mummy mask off the wall, looking down at it absently.
“Do you really think they’re going to wait until Stacey’s party to do something with the information they got from Ivy?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder at Vic. He looks down at me, and I feel that violent surge of … something in my body. Feelings and emotions pour through me, half of them glittery and foreign, the other half gloomy and familiar. I frown. “Because I know I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t give us time to plan.”
Vic smirks at me and then drags a lion mask over his head.
“No, I don’t think they’re going to wait. And neither will we.”
He growls at me through the mask and then grabs a package from the wall, pushing it into my arms. My heart thunders as Vic turns and disappears into the maze of Halloween props and costumes, leaving me to stare down at a very sexy cheerleader costume.
Huh.
Well, Halloween is all about shedding one’s skin and donning a new persona, right?
I’d be more likely to sprout red wings and a tail than become a cheerleader.
I’ll take it.
We head to Vic’s house after instead of Aaron’s, but luckily, the place is empty.
As soon as I set foot inside, I can’t stop my eyes from landing on the spot where Vic first fucked me against the wall. He notices me looking, slipping past and raising a brow in my direction. I return his gaze with a hard stare of my own.
“I’ll make the girls a snack,” Aaron murmurs, noticing my exchange with Vic and narrowing his eyes. My hand is clasped around Heather’s. We picked her up on the way back from the Hellhole which is fine by me, but I’m not sure why we’re here and not at Aaron’s.
“It’d be easier for them to entertain themselves at your place,” I say, following him into the narrow galley kitchen. Ashley and Kara don’t seem bothered though, racing through the kitchen and letting themselves out the side door into the yard.
“Can I go?” Heather asks, yanking on my hand. Reluctantly, I let her go, but I watch out the window like a hawk, fully prepared for either Vic’s dad or those awful men to show up.
“It is easier, but we’re being followed, and I don’t need the Charters or the Ensbrooks knowing where I live.” Aaron opens the fridge and pulls out some apples and cheddar, sliding his pocketknife from his jeans before coring and cutting the green fruit like this is most definitely not his first time at the rodeo.
“We were being followed?” I ask, moving over to the living room area to stare out the front window. But it’s pretty much impossible to see beyond the thick foliage at the edge of the yard.
“You have a lot to learn, Bernadette,” Vic says, leaning in close to me and then standing up straight. “As soon as they back off a little, we’ll drop the kids off with the sitter, and head out.”
“And where exactly are we going?” I ask as Oscar turns away from the window to glance back at me and Vic.
“We’re crashing a Prescott party tonight,” he says smoothly, the light from the window catching on the lenses of his glasses. “Victor, do you care to break the news?”
“News?” I echo as Hael looks up from his phone with his brows drawn together, a frown on his lips. “What news?”
“Listen, babe,” Vic says, and my ears burn at that word. Babe. I’m not sure if I hate or … no, I hate it. I narrow my gaze on him as he studies me. Callum slumps into a seat at the table, that boneless fluidity of his a reminder of his past, of all the secrets he shared with me. “Kali is pregnant.”
“What?” I ask, blinking through the words and feeling this sense of frustration and dread wash over me.
“And we don’t beat up pregnant chicks,” Callum explains in that hoarse voice of his, his blue hood pulled up over his blond hair.
“Good for you. Such outstanding citizens. I’ll send you all some fucking metals.” Victor steps forward as I snarl out the snarky insults and grabs both sides of my face, effectively cradling my head in his big, tattooed hands.
“We’ll find a way to get her, Bern, I promise. But this changes our plans a little.”
“So she gets knocked-up and she’s suddenly exempt?” I snap, trying and failing to pull away from Victor.
“She’s not exempt,” he says, forcing me to look right into those dark eyes of his. “But we have to adjust our plans a bit. Don’t worry, when we’re finished with her, she’ll be ruined.” He looks down at me for a moment and finally releases me, but I can feel all the places he touched. I’m on fire on the inside.
“Right,” I snap back, shaking so hard I feel like I might break if I don’t punch something. “I get locked in a closet and chased through the woods and dropped off in the middle of nowhere, and she gets a free pass because she screwed some dude without a condom. Who’s the dad anyway? Is it Mitch?”
“Doubtful,” Oscar says as Hael leans against the living room wall, watching us. Oscar moves toward us in his ridiculous suit, the white shirt underneath unbuttoned just enough to show off his tattoos, and then he tosses his iPad down on the table next to me. “Unless she’s been fucking Mitch for the past three months.”
I look down and find a private text conversation between Kali and this other girl who goes to our school, Wendy something. I remember that first day I sat with Havoc at lunch, how Vic knocked Hael’s tray over and Wendy scrambled to pick up all the garbage. Clearly, she owes Havoc for something. This must be part of her repayment plan.
Kali: I haven’t had my period in over three months.
Wendy: Have you taken a test? I could swipe a box or two from the pharmacy near my house.
Kali: Can you? I’ll catch up with you after school. Mitch has shit to do today.
Wendy sends her a thumbs up emoji, and then there’s a gap in time before the messages start up again.
Kali: They could be wrong, right?
Wendy: Girl, you took six. One could be wrong, six is pregnant, chica. Figure it out.
I lift my attention from the screen to Oscar’s face, those sharp gray eyes of his focused on me and not the iPad.
“Who was she sleeping with before Mitch?” I ask, trying to think if I saw Kali prancing around with anyone before the end of junior year. “She’s two-timing him with some asswad from Oak Valley Prep, right? Is it
that guy’s baby?”
“No clue,” Vic answers instead, but I’m having a hard time looking at him for some reason. When he talks, my pulse thunders. “Kali wasn’t exactly on our radar until you gave us your list.”
“You’d think it was fucking spring or something,” Hael murmurs, his gaze faraway, jaw tense, neck tight. He’s very clearly still focused on Brittany.
The back door opens and Aaron disappears outside to give the girls their snack, a paper plate covered in apple slices and cheddar squares. He smiles as the girls bounce up to him to grab some food, not looking at all put-out at having to take care of them. Like me, this is his sole purpose in life. This is his reason for living.
My chest gets tight, and I sit down heavily in the chair behind me.
“Just because she’s pregnant,” Callum muses, playing with that knife of his, the one I borrowed from his pocket and stabbed Kali with. Maybe I should feel bad about that, but it’s hard to drum up sympathy for that girl. Or maybe my heart’s just dead. Either way, I feel nothing. That is … until Vic looks at me again, and then I feel everything. I clench my jaw. “That doesn’t mean we can’t mess with her face.”
I raise my brows at the blatant threat of violence in his voice, at odds with the beautiful way he danced. Sure, he was angry, but he wasn’t violent. But then I think about the baseball bat and the security guard, and the way he beat the ever-living crap out of Kyler.
“Scar her up a bit?” Vic says, bouncing Cal’s idea back. “That would certainly mess with her future modeling career.”
Aaron slips back in the door and comes over to join the rest of us, leaning back against the wall where Vic and I …
“She’s more than just a name on Bernadette’s list. She’s been openly and blatantly defying us. The whole school knows she started that shit in the bathroom with Billie. We have to make an example of her to the entire student body.” Aaron kicks his boot up against the wall, crossing muscular arms over his chest as he scowls.
“Scarring her face up wouldn’t do that?” Cal asks, glancing over his shoulder to where Aaron’s standing. My ex shrugs his big shoulders and then gets out a cigarette, lighting up like he’s been doing this forever. I know for a fact he never touched a cigarette until after his dad died and he joined Havoc. “Trust me: I know the cost of a good scar.” Callum runs a finger along the scar that traces his jawline and sighs.
Havoc at Prescott High Page 30
