“In good time, Bernadette,” he tells me, lathering his hands up with careful efficiency and then drying them on a nearby hand towel. “In good time.”
Oscar turns back toward me, studying me like he's never seen me before, and then proceeds to breeze past me and down the hall. I wander after him, lost in a daze. As I walk, I break things. A vase, a framed picture, a stabbed oil painting. I don't steal anything though. I want Eric to know that the motive here wasn't theft. Besides, I don't want anything from this place. Every item in here is tainted goods.
We hit up every room, and as we go, Oscar collects a few things here and there.
Once we're done, we head right back out the front door, and I watch as Oscar locks the house up tight. Instead of getting on the bike however, he opens one of the saddlebags and pulls out two cans of red spray paint. Across the street, one of the neighbors is mowing their lawn and watching us curiously.
“Leave a message,” Oscar tells me, nodding his head and shaking up the cans in his hands before passing one over to me. I take it from him, studying the color printed on the label. Violently Red. Appropriate. “Something that'll make him think twice about reporting the break-in.”
It only takes me a second to figure it out.
I take the top off the can and hand it over to Oscar, stepping up to the pristine white of the garage door and starting on the first word. He waits patiently behind me, watching as I leave my dark mark in the heart of suburbia.
“Hey!” the neighbor calls, moving across the street, his overalls covered in grass. “What the hell are you kids doing? Knock that off.” Oscar reaches into his jacket and pulls out his revolver, drawing the hammer back before pointing it at the man. He glances lazily in his direction.
“Be quiet and bear witness,” he tells him as the man's eyes go wide. I finish off the first can and trade Oscar for the full one. When I'm finished, I step back to examine my handiwork. “Read it aloud for us,” Oscar muses, tilting his head to one side.
“I …” the man starts, his voice quivering. As soon as we're done here, he's going to call the cops, most definitely. Guess that puts a bit of a wrench into our plans. I decide I don't give a shit. “I … I fuck …” the man continues, choking on the awful words.
“I'm getting impatient,” Oscar purrs, pushing the gun against the side of the man's head. “Say it.”
“Kids,” the man chokes out, falling to his knees in the grass. Oscar puts the gun away and nods briskly.
“Before you call the police, think about me coming back to your house and burning it to the ground with you inside of it. Otherwise, we have no qualms with you, just your pedophile neighbor. Something to think about.” Oscar chucks the empty spray cans into the saddlebag, closes it, and pulls the key from his pocket.
We climb onto the bike together and take off.
Oscar offers me the first small kindness he's ever granted by pretending he doesn't see me cry.
“How did it go today?” Vic asks, standing outside the front door to Aaron's place, his big arms crossed over his broad chest. His ebon eyes track my every movement, taking me in, absorbing me. We just stare at each other, and it becomes obvious that fighting this attraction between us isn't going to work. I can't just stand here and pretend like I don't want to forgive him for the things he's done.
“Why did you send us together?” I ask him as Oscar pauses beside me. He smells like cinnamon, something I never expected from him. That's a warm, homey sort of smell, and Oscar Montauk is anything but warm and homey. “You know how we feel about each other.”
Victor just stares down at me, chewing on a piece of gum, and looking at me like he'd very much like to throw me against the wall and ravage me. I almost wish he would. I just … it's only been a week since the Halloween party. One week since I saw the video. Since Vic told me he was the only one who wanted me to be a part of Havoc. One fucking week since he told me that the Kali thing was more for my ‘benefit’ than hers.
“We're family, Bernadette,” Vic says, looking up and away, and appearing far more regal than he has any right to. “The two of you are going to have to deal with your shit sometime, don't you think?” He pauses for a moment and then looks back at me.
It's impossible to miss the double meaning in his words.
“Why did Aaron dump me?” I ask him, tilting my head to one side. Maybe today isn't the best day to broach this subject, especially considering I've already picked a metaphorical scab and find myself bleeding a red as violent as the color of that spray paint. “When he joined Havoc, I mean. Why dump me? Clearly, you guys are okay with dating. Hael dated Brittany. So what the hell is up with that?”
Vic exhales and leans his head back against the side of the house as Oscar stands silently just behind and to the right of me.
“Not everything is my fault, you know?” Victor starts, closing his eyes.
“Yes, it is,” I retort, crossing my arms under my breasts and wishing Oscar wasn't standing so close or listening so intently. “You're the boss, Vic. All the positives and negatives of that apply to you. So it is your fault. Aaron joined Havoc; I lost him.” My nostrils flare as I stare at Vic, waiting for an explanation that I know is only going to make my shitty day worse, rather than better. “Why? Why couldn't you just let him have me.”
“Everything comes at a price, even joining Havoc.” Vic turns back to me and opens his eyes. “You know that, Bernadette.”
“So, Aaron's price was to dump me?” I ask, my hands curving into fists. The front door opens and there he is, the man in question, watching me from gold-green eyes.
“Bern,” he starts, resting a hand against the doorjamb. “Let's go for a walk, okay?”
“Victor isn't getting out of this!” I shout, losing my shit for a second. The last few months have given me a lot to take in. I act so badass on the outside, but buried deep down, there's a broken little girl crying her shattered heart out. That doesn't make me weak, though. No, instead it makes me stronger. I have to remember that. If you're just steel through and through, you'll sink. “He gets final say in the price. You didn't want Aaron to have me if you couldn't, is that it?”
“Bernadette,” Aaron repeats, reaching out to take my arm. His fingers burn where he touches me, but I don't pull away. Instead, I turn to look at him, wondering how many more secrets I can take before I start to lose it. “Let me get my shoes on and we'll walk and talk, okay?”
I tear my arm away from him and turn toward the quiet street instead, moving through the grass to put some space between myself and Vic.
“For what it's worth, this particular incident wasn't just Victor's fault,” Oscar says, and I glance back to see that Vic's already gone. Oscar stares back at me from behind the lenses of his glasses, as unreadable as always. “Some boys just don't know how to share their toys,” he murmurs, moving into the house before I can respond.
What the actual fuck is that supposed to mean?
I stare after him for a moment, until Aaron steps outside in brown work boots with no laces, his jeans low-slung. He's in the process of pulling a clean, white t-shirt over his head. My eyes watch as the tight fabric clings to the hard planes of his chest, his erect nipples impossible to miss. He tugs the shirt into place, noticing me watching him, and flashes a small smile. It's a sad smile, though. It'd have to be, to pass between me and him with any sort of genuine feeling.
We've been through a lot, Aaron Fadler and me.
“I brought my wallet,” he says as he comes up beside me, tucking a brown leather square into his back pocket. “We can stop and grab a milkshake or something.”
I snort.
“You're still trying too hard to be the good guy,” I tell him with a small shake of my head. “We aren't in junior high anymore. We're not going to stop and get a shake at the fucking soda fountain.”
“Why not?” Aaron asks, pausing beside me. “What's wrong with that?”
“That's just not who we are anymore,” I say, remembering a time w
hen we were both relatively … normal. I look away, the wind catching strands of pink-tinged blond hair and swirling it around my face.
“See, that's where you're wrong, Bernie,” Aaron says quietly. I turn to find him staring at me with an intensity I wasn't sure he was capable of. On the inside, I'm still waiting for him to stand up to Vic for me, to fight for us. On the outside, I give him nothing, despite the desperate pleading in his stare. “We might live in the dark, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to enjoy the moonlight.”
With another scoff, I turn away and start down the sidewalk. With his long legs, it doesn't take Aaron long to catch up to me.
“That's something the girls have taught me,” he says, tucking inked fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. He almost looks his seventeen years when he does that, hunching over slightly. Most days, I'd peg him in his mid-twenties. Guess that's what hardship and violence will do to a person. We age faster than most. “You have to find happiness wherever you can, whenever you can, because you never know when you might be sailing into a storm.”
I walk faster, acting like I'm annoyed at him and his stupid metaphors. Little does he know, I like metaphors. The world is too complicated sometimes. It's much more palatable if you break it down into pretty words and flowery phrases.
“Bernadette,” Aaron repeats, reaching out to grab my arm. I try to tear away from him, but he doesn't let me go, yanking me close so that we're chest to chest. I look up into his face and something dark clogs my throat. You're not allowed to look at me like that, I think, heart thundering. You're not allowed to look at me like I matter, not after what you did. “Being a part of Havoc has to mean something.” He pauses, but he never takes his eyes off of mine. “There has to be a sacrifice of some kind, or it's just a meaningless oath.”
“Yeah?” I quip, trying to swallow past the darkness clogging my mouth. It's thick and cloying, and it tastes like ash on my tongue. Maybe this is what Aaron meant when he said that to me? Because it feels like my mouth is coated in charcoal. “What was my sacrifice then?”
Aaron's face softens, and he reaches up an inked hand to cup my cheek.
“You always wanted a normal life; now you’ll never have one,” he says quietly, almost reassuringly, like he expects this revelation to rock me. “That's all you ever wanted, Bernadette.” I shove his hand away, but Aaron just puts it on the curve of my waist instead. “And all I ever wanted was you.”
“Whose idea was it?” I ask, shaking all over. I have that urge to start running again. If I wasn't worried about the Charter Crew picking me up off the side of the road, I might do just that. “For you to give me up.”
“All of them,” Aaron says, sighing and finally dropping his hands to his sides. I hate to admit how empty and lonely I feel without him touching me. “You've seen how it works, when we come up with a price.”
“You could've said no,” I snap back, all of that old hurt and anger rushing to the surface. No matter how many times I try to pretend like it doesn't affect me anymore, it's a lie. I'm not sure I'll ever truly heal from that pain. “You could've walked away.”
Aaron turns his head and puts a tattooed hand over his mouth, closing his eyes.
But just as I've told him before that I could never go to Nantucket, he could never pass up on Havoc's protection for his sister and cousin. We're both just repeating the dreams we had for each other, dreams that are too far from reality to ever come true.
“They're your friends,” I choke out, on the verge of tears again. For two years, I didn't cry. I missed Pen with every breath I took, with every step, every heartbeat, but I didn't cry. I can't seem to stop doing just that now. Like I said, it must be a purge of some sort, a chance for my rattled spirit to expel all of that darkness out through my mouth. “They could've helped you without bringing you into the gang.”
“We're not a gang, Bernie, we're a family,” Aaron says as he drops his hand to his side. There's a tattoo on his right bicep that I've seen before, but that I've refused to acknowledge. It's my name, written in cursive across a red heart for all the world to see. I haven't let myself really look at it until now. Because it means too much. Because me being in Havoc means that Aaron and I … don't have to be apart anymore.
Havoc is a family.
I'm a part of that family.
Aaron is a part of that family.
“These things are signed and sealed in blood; they cannot be undone.” That's what Oscar said, isn't it? Aaron and I are inextricably tied now. Forever and always.
“Why couldn't they help you without giving me up?” I ask, and this time, I just acknowledge the fact that I'm crying again. I must be about to start my period, I think, but that's such a stupid copout and I know it. “They knew how happy we were together; they could see it. Vic was jealous.” This last part comes out as sharp as a whiplash. Aaron looks back at me and nods.
“He was. He's always loved you, Bernadette. I'm sure you've noticed that?” I say nothing, because it's true. I've noticed. There's proof of it enough on that paper. Victor Channing punched me in the face between first and second period for saying Bernadette Blackbird was hot. “Sometimes I hate him so much it hurts. Sometimes, I even want to kill him for what he made me do.” Aaron leans back against the trunk of a tree edging the neighbor's yard. I wonder how long it'll take them to come outside and yell at us? “But then I remember that he let us have each other, once upon a time. Freshman year was ours. I didn't know my dad was going to die, and my mom was going to leave. I thought we had forever, Bernie, that we could be normal together.”
Aaron shrugs his big shoulders and sighs again, kicking one boot up to rest the sole against the tree trunk. He doesn't look at me as he continues.
“If I was stronger, we could've been. But I wasn't. And neither were you.” He turns back to me, but I can't deny it. That memory of his father's funeral plays fresh in my mind. I can hear my own thoughts echoing back at me. I don’t know how to help. That happens sometimes, when one broken person tries to lean on another. We’re too rickety to keep the other standing. “So I let you go. It killed a part of me I wasn't sure I could ever get back.” Aaron taps two inked fingers—interestingly enough, the two with the A and V on them—against the Bernadette tattoo on his right arm.
“Wasn’t sure,” I say, my heart beating like a live thing inside my chest. I feel lightheaded and dizzy, like I might need to reach out and hold onto something to stay standing upright. Unfortunately, the only thing to grab onto right here is Aaron himself. I’ll admit: part of me is afraid to touch him. I don’t know what’ll happen between us if I do. “Past tense. But you feel differently now?”
Aaron’s mouth curves up into a smile. There’s enough good boy hidden underneath that cocky smirk that I feel a bite of nostalgia, but not too much that I don’t think he could curb stomp someone for me.
Fuck if Aaron Fadler doesn’t make me feel safe. Even after everything. Even with everything we’re dealing with now.
“You didn’t just say it to me,” Aaron says, pushing off the tree and stepping forward. He doesn’t touch me, but I wish he would. I grit my teeth against the emotion and curl my hands into fists by my sides.
“Say what?” I ask, but I already know. “You’re right. I do love him.”
“You told Vic you loved me.” Aaron’s smile gets a little wider, but I don’t know what he expects will come of this. We can’t just go back to the way we were … but then, I don’t see why we can’t start something new? That rose and sandalwood scent of his wafts over me, and I close my eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be able to feel for me ever again. And then to say it to Vic’s face?” Aaron chuckles and shakes his head, reaching up to run his fingers through his chestnut hair. “That, I really didn’t expect.” He pauses again, his smile softening into something deeper, more melancholic. “You love Vic though, too, don’t you?”
I can’t deny that—it would be a lie—but I also can’t force my mouth to say the words either.
“Does it matter?” I ask instead, my voice much softer than I want it to be. “Love isn’t logical, and it doesn’t have limits.” I look back up at Aaron to find him watching me like I’m something precious, like dandelion fluff that might blow away in the wind if he breathes wrong. See, Aaron doesn’t know the new Bernadette very well. He might’ve been an expert on the old one, but he has a lot to learn. “What are you proposing?” I ask, and he shrugs.
“Well, to start off, I’d like to take you out for a milkshake.” His smile gets a little saucier, ratcheting up into a grin. “And then maybe we can talk about not hating each other?”
“I’ve hated you in a way I’ve never hated anyone else,” I say, giving a small shake of my head. “I can’t explain it, but I think there’s a special sort of hate that blooms from love.”
“Yeah, it’s called love-hate, and I hear the sex is off the charts.” Aaron cups the side of my face, running his thumb along my bottom lip. When he leans in close, I get butterflies. Fucking butterflies. Like I’m fifteen all over again. “But we can take it slow.”
“Why?” I ask, tilting my head to look at him. He really is gorgeous, always has been, but even more so now that he’s filled out and dripping with ink. “The sex is the easy part. It’s the feelings I struggle with.”
I turn and start down the sidewalk, listening for the easy fall of his footsteps as he hesitates and then follows after me.
“Sex isn’t easy, Bernadette. Don’t start telling yourself that.” Aaron walks a bit faster, overtaking me with his long strides. I catch up to him at the next crosswalk, but neither of us says anything. Instead, he reaches down and takes my hand in his, curving his HAVOC stamped fingers around mine.
That gets me right in the heart, an arrow that I can’t pull out for risk of bleeding to death.
We walk the last few blocks together like that, like a fairy-tale couple who lives in a tower, safe and solid against the wicked of the world. I notice as we go that Aaron’s eyes track side alleys, thick foliage, empty houses with For Sale signs in the yards. Occasionally, he nods, and I get chills down my spine.
Chaos at Prescott High Page 17