Oscar checks something on his iPad and makes a hiss of disapproval.
“You were at the lake house on the twenty-ninth, most definitely,” Oscar agrees, frowning as Vic sighs and grabs his cherry soda, flipping the plastic top off and using a flask of whiskey from his pocket to spike it.
“Alright, fine, you fucked her on the twenty-ninth or thereabouts. Keep going, Oscar. I haven't heard the tail end of this but just yet.” Vic swigs his whiskey-laced soda, and then offers the cup up to me. I just glare back at him until he scowls and takes it away again. We are not friends, not today. I'm still pissed, and we have yet to actually talk about my feelings in detail.
“Did you use a condom?” Aaron asks, which, apparently, is the wrong thing to say to Hael right now. He stands up and grabs his own milkshake, throwing it as hard as he can against the side of an old train car. It sits in the grass nearby, all its wheels missing save for one that's being eaten by rust. The side is covered in graffiti and now, strawberry milkshake.
It doesn’t need explaining that the graffiti tagged on that car says HAVOC.
“Of course I used a condom!” Hael roars, and I'm surprised to see so much emotion from him. Gone is the cocky swagger, and the cocksure smirk. He looks like any other member of Havoc now, just a tortured, tattooed asshole with a chip on his shoulder. “Keep going, let's just roll through the possibilities.” He snaps his fingers to get Oscar to keep going.
Oscar sits there with the iPad on his lap and gives Hael such a withering look that he finally sits down again, lifting a hand in an indication that Oscar should continue.
“We give her what she wants on the stipulation that she takes a DNA test at the earliest opportunity, and we require her honesty beforehand, to see if there's any other possible father.”
“There's no way,” Hael says, but almost like he's pleading, wishing he could change the past with a snap of his fingers. “It was just us at the lake house, and we were there for an entire weekend.”
“Four days to be exact,” Oscar corrects, and I wonder, if he's keeping such good track of everything, is he monitoring my fucking menstrual cycles, too? Dick. “But Brittany is—excuse the language—a whore. Likely, there are other candidates for her child's father.”
“So we give her what she wants on a trial basis, and we schedule a DNA test?” Vic asks, like he's mulling this over. “If the baby is Hael's?”
Hael makes a noise of protest but doesn't say anything.
“We tell her to kill Kali,” Callum says, speaking up for the first time. He's eating his fries one by one, carefully pushing the length of each one between his full lips. His voice is as deep and dark as usual, like black velvet and forgotten promises. “Pretty little white girl like her, she'd get away with it. Then we'd have Kali off our backs, but a smaller body count to our own names.”
“What is your body count by the way?” I ask, leaning back against the table and propping my elbow on the surface. “Because I'd love to know. You're all acting like …” I trail off for a moment and shrug again. “Like the other night wasn't the first time.”
“It wasn't,” Vic says, and my stomach drops. He turns back to Oscar. “Keep going. I'm not happy with any of this; it feels like we're getting screwed either way.”
“If the baby is his, then we have her kill Kali. If it's not, Hael walks free and clear, but”—Oscar holds up a finger and smirks like the sociopath he so very clearly is—“she also has to sic her father and his task force of pigs on the Charter Crew.”
Goose bumps rise on my arms, and I find myself grinning, even though I simultaneously want to punch Oscar in the nuts.
“Either way, it's a win,” Oscar explains, folding the cover on his iPad and setting it aside. He isn't eating anything—in fact, I've never actually seen him eat before, not once—but he does have a cup of crushed ice next to him. Casually, he picks it up and places a single cube on his tongue, crushing it with his teeth as I stare at him. “I like the odds on this one, to be honest with you. Besides, it isn't like Hael would abandon his child anyway, so we may as well get something out of it.”
“Although if it is his kid, we'll need to figure out a way to get rid of Brittany,” Victor muses, just casually pondering the fate of some random teen like he wouldn't lose a minute of sleep over separating a mother from her child.
I always knew they were monsters, nice to see that I wasn't just running from shadows.
Everyone falls quiet for a moment, me sucking on my milkshake, Vic downing his booze-laden cola. Callum eats his French fries in silence while Hael sulks and Oscar crunches ice. Brittany arrives just fifteen minutes later, right on time.
Today, she's wearing a pretty yellow dress with an empire waist. It hides her growing baby bump admirably well.
“Hael,” she says, looking right at him and refusing to acknowledge the rest of us.
“Sit and let’s talk, Brittany,” Vic says, and I get chills all over as I remember him saying the same thing to me as he kicked out a chair from under the library table. Alright, Bernie, sit and talk. “Let's discuss price.”
“This better be something fair,” Brittany whines, moving over to sit next to Hael. He scowls, but doesn't move, clearly resigned to his fate. Our eyes meet across the narrow space, and I feel a tug inside of me. It's one-part jealousy and two-parts regret. If we'd been able to reconcile our differences just a little bit sooner, then he wouldn't have slept with Brittany, and maybe she wouldn't be pregnant.
“Are you questioning us?” Vic asks, looking at her in just such a way that most people would probably piss themselves. Giving credit where credit's due, Brittany just shifts slightly and looks away, refusing to make eye contact with anyone—even me. “Here's the deal: you're asking a lot. You're asking for a man's lifetime commitment.”
“But it's his kid!” Brittany blurts, whirling around to look at Vic and then cowering back slightly. “If he didn't want to make a lifetime commitment, he shouldn't have slept with me.”
Hael just folds his arms over his chest and refuses to look in her direction, leaving the interaction up to Vic and Oscar. Aaron and Callum are quiet, too, and I can't decide if that's just because they don't like Brittany or if there's something more to it. Aaron is still hurting from his GSW, I know that, and Callum … he's probably hurting on the inside, even if he won't admit it.
“We want you to get a DNA test as soon as possible,” Victor says, nodding his head in Oscar's direction.
“I can get you in for an appointment at the Northwest Pregnancy Project in late November.” He looks up from his screen to find Brittany staring at him. She has goose bumps all over her arms as she swings her attention over to me. I'm honestly surprised—but pleased—to see her shudder in horror. A grin spreads across my lips as I lean back, resting my elbows on the surface of the table. The pink demon tattoo on my chest catches the sunlight, and Brittany fixes her gaze on it. Probably safer to look at my tits than my face. If I were her, I'd avoid pissing me off if at all possible.
Bernadette Blackbird has a very short temper.
“So for the next few weeks,” Vic says, lifting up two fingers, “you'll have Hael as a partner, regardless. He will speak to your father with you; we will kick the shit out of whoever it is you want beaten up. You can even go on a fucking date together tonight.” Vic ignores me as I narrow my eyes, turning my glare onto him. Some part of me recognizes that he's doing this shit on purpose.
He's jealous of Hael, no doubt about it. My eyes end up sliding over to Aaron's, and something unspoken passes between us. We need time to talk, just me and him, whether Vic likes it or not.
“Okay …” Brittany starts, putting her hand on her belly. “So then what's my price?”
“If the baby is Hael's, we're going to give you one of two options,” Victor says with a smile. “One, you take on a very special mission and you get to keep Hael for yourself. For now though, we'll keep that mission a secret. If the time comes, and the DNA test agrees with your assessment,
we'll re-evaluate things. You can take that deal, or you can choose option two.” Vic’s smile turns into a feral grin. “That is, you let Hael go and never speak to him again. In that case, you can either keep the baby for yourself or give it to us to raise.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Brittany chokes out, brown eyes going wide. “I'm not giving you my baby; I'd rather die.”
“That's your choice to make,” Vic says smoothly, and I can't decide if he's telling her that it's her choice to keep the baby or not … or if it's her choice to die. Knowing him, it could very well be either. He stands up, cracking his knuckles and shrugging his shoulders. “If the baby is not his, then you're going to fuck all the way off. Regardless of parentage,” Vic takes a step forward and crouches down in front of Brittany, reaching out to lift her chin up. The way he does it, there's a sense of menace in the air. “You’re also going to get your dad to sic his dogs on a target of our choosing.”
“I can't control what my father does and doesn't do,” Brittany snaps back, and Vic grabs her chin harder, yanking her face down toward his.
“Well, you better figure out a way to turn his head and quick. We wouldn't send him on a wild-goose chase: there's another gang we want him to deal with, that's it. Just redirect his attention away from Havoc and over to the Charter Crew.”
“I don't know anything about the Charter Crew,” Brittany simpers, but I notice she doesn't try to pull her face away from Vic again. Good girl. I just sit there, content to watch things play out. My gaze drifts back to Hael's after a minute though, searching for some sign that he feels this strain between us. My heart aches when I think of him leaving in the Camaro with Brittany.
He was always meant to be mine.
I turn away to look back at Brittany and Vic.
“Of course you don't,” he purrs, reaching out to push some hair back from her face. She cringes and squeezes her eyes closed, all of that bitchy bravado she had yesterday fading away to nothing. Underneath it all, Brittany Burr is just a terrified preppy Fuller High brat. “And you won't learn anything about them until it's necessary. Let's just set this agreement up and then see how the DNA tests goes, shall we?”
“What if I can't get my father to agree?” she asks finally, as soon as Vic lets go of her face. I notice he's left red marks where his fingertips pressed into her skin. He stands up, looking down at her with an expression that reminds me that, no matter what sort of chemistry we have between us, I really don't know him for shit. I don't, I think, know what he's truly capable of. For some reason, the boys chose to go easy on me during sophomore year. If they'd wanted to, they could've destroyed me.
But not anymore.
I'm not the same person now as I was then.
I get up and move over to stand next to Vic, putting my hands on my hips and hoping I cut a pretty figure in my leather pants and jacket.
“You don't want to know what'll happen to you if you renege on this deal,” I tell Brittany, loving how meek she is. Does that make me a bad person, that I enjoy power? That I enjoy finally being on the other end of the bullying? I think that maybe it does, but I can't help myself. The old Bernadette, the one who believed in daisies and dreams, she was shattered to pieces by the hammer of reality. There is no getting her back, no going back to who I used to be. As Alice once said, there's no use going back to yesterday; I was a different person then. “If you don't think you can pay up, then don't take the deal. Fuck off and raise your bastard kid by yourself.”
“I'll do it!” Brittany snaps, shoving up to her feet. She glares at me, nostrils flaring, and then turns away again, like she can't bear to hold my attention for any longer than that. “What do I have to do?”
“Take Hael and go, tell him what you promised to tell him—who the other possible father is. And also who you'd like us to take care of. Don't let us see you before then. If you need to talk to Hael, text him but don't expect him to be a slave to your whims.” Vic hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and looks Brittany over carefully. “For the next two weeks, he'll behave as a respectful boyfriend should, but not like a trained dog, do you understand and accept?”
“I accept,” Brittany agrees, sealing her fate in blood.
“Jesus Christ,” Hael murmurs, swiping his hand over his mouth as he grimaces. There’s zero hesitation on Brittany’s end as she grabs his arm and encourages him to find his feet.
“We have a prior engagement for Friday night, so don’t expect cuddles and kisses all night long,” Vic tells Brittany with a sharp laugh. God, he’s an asshole. I stare at him and he stares right back in challenge.
“Fine,” she snaps, clearly over her groveling for the time being. She proceeds to drag her ex toward his car.
On their way past, I grab Hael, my fingers burning as they curl around his wrist.
“Don't forget about me when you're on your little date,” I say, hating the way the jealousy pulls me apart on the inside, like my bones are separating from the muscle, making my entire body ache.
“How could anyone ever forget you, Blackbird?” Hael says, the edge of his mouth curving up into a slight smirk. He flicks his honey-brown eyes my way as I release his wrist, and then turns abruptly in my direction. I don't expect him to touch me, or put up much of a fight, considering that Brittany's standing right there, and we just made a goddamn Havoc deal for him to be her boyfriend.
But, apparently, unlike Aaron, Hael is willing to test the limits.
He puts his hands on my hips and leans in close, letting his lips brush against my ear.
“I feel like we owe each other a good, long fuck. What do you think, Blackbird?”
“I think if you screw Brittany—or hell, kiss her—even once during these two weeks, I'll castrate you the way you did Donald Asher.” Hael lets out a howling laugh, and then reaches up to cup the side of my face. His thumb plays across my lower lip before he leans in and takes my mouth with his, searing me with an intensity that I didn't expect. Everything between me and Hael thus far has been … I don't want to say casual, but it hasn't been serious. This kiss is different. It's dead serious, a promise made with lips and teeth and tongue.
“This is bullshit,” Brittany whines, standing off to Hael's right. “What sort of boyfriend act is this? Is this what I'm really paying for?”
A caustic laugh slips past my lips as I pull away from Hael and move over to stand in front of her, grinning like a goddamn maniac.
“Oscar already explained this to you: we are Havoc. You are not. You can't police what I do with my own family—no bargain can ever infringe on that.”
“Blood in,” Victor says, lighting up a cigarette. “Blood out.”
Hael winks at me as he steps back, leading Brittany to the Camaro, and taking off with a squeal of tires and a cloud of dust.
I pretend like that doesn't bother me, but it does.
“Didn't realize you two were so close,” Vic murmurs as he pauses behind me.
Slowly, I turn over my shoulder to give him a sharp look.
“Then you weren't paying attention,” I quip back. He scowls at me, but that's about it. Maybe he knows what a thin line he's walking?
I might be a part of Havoc, but if he wants me to be his girl, then he better shape the fuck up.
“Oh, and I have a few things I need to tell you,” I start as Cal looks up, studying us with bright blue eyes. Victor just cocks a brow, and I feel this near-orgasmic satisfaction at the idea that I’m about to piss him off. “First, Callum and I almost had sex on Saturday, at the dance studio.” Victor’s eyes go wide, and he turns in a very slow, very scary sort of way to stare at his friend. Before Vic even gets the chance to respond, I forge on. “Second, I smashed Kali’s face into a locker until she was bloody and unconscious. We might have some extra problems with the Charter Crew this week.”
Victor’s cold, dark gaze swings back to me, but for several minutes, he says nothing, just stares down at me with an inscrutable demeanor.
“You’ve m
anaged to surprise me, Bernadette. And I’m not one who’s easily surprised.” Vic turns and heads over to his bike, climbing on and taking off in a cloud of dust, leaving me behind.
“He’ll get over it,” Callum says, but I notice that Vic isn’t the only one who’s irritated with him. Aaron looks pissed, too.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Oscar murmurs, but I can’t decide if he’s talking about Brittany … or me.
No, he’s definitely talking about me.
Seeing how easily I can fracture these boys from within, I’m not sure that he’s entirely wrong about that.
The rest of the week goes by fairly quickly, but that doesn’t mean it’s peaceable or pleasant. I’ve got Principal Vaughn breathing down my neck, the Thing on the offensive, and a whole basket of trouble to unravel with the boys.
Also, Kali doesn’t come back to school after our incident on Monday. Not once. That doesn’t bode well for me. She’s like a black widow, crouching in her web, waiting for the right time to strike.
By Friday afternoon, I’m actually looking forward to our usual weekend sleepover.
After class lets out, I meet Aaron out front for a ride. Now that Hael's on Brittany duty—fucking Brittany—I've been getting rides home with my ex. We've barely spoken to each other since I ground myself into an orgasm on his lap, but it's not the sex that makes things awkward—okay, maybe a little—but mostly, it’s the feelings.
All the fucking feelings.
“You don't have to stay at Pamela’s anymore if you don't want to,” Aaron tells me, driving the minivan like a grandma through the school zone. I appreciate it, dare I say find it cute, when he does that next to an elementary school or something, but let's be honest: the world would probably be better off if he ran down a few Prescott High kids on the way.
Chaos at Prescott High Page 14