He’s very dangerous, Victor Channing is.
I reach up and take his arm, and he grins, standing up straight and shrugging his big shoulders. A master of control.
“Oak Valley has opened up a dozen spots for students from Prescott High, in a show of solidarity—a dozen scholarship spots. We’ve got a few … on-campus connections, so it looks like we’ll be starting next week.” Vic gets out a cigarette and lights up, his gaze sliding over to me. “And by we, I mean me and my wife. My boys.” He flicks his attention back to Trinity as she stands there clutching her leather book bag and struggling to keep her expression placid.
“You’ll be dead before you can set foot in your first class,” Trinity deadpans, not bothering to hide the menace in her words. “Maxwell will see to that, after what you did to James.” Her face cracks for the briefest of moments, and I smile. I wonder if she’d like to know how her brother met his end? On the floor of my cheap, dirty high school with a rock to the head. No eyes. And blood. So, so much blood.
“No,” Vic says, chuckling and shaking his head as the tree branch above Trinity’s head creaks and she looks up to see Cal crouching there, staring down at her. Victor takes another step forward, grabbing the end of Trinity’s tie and twirling it around her neck like a noose. He tugs the end of it and grins. “Because you’re going to go back to Ophelia and tell her that our engagement is still on. You’re going to get that judge grandfather of yours to promise that the annulment is complete.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she retorts, her eyes blazing. I can’t decide if she’s just pissed off or pissed off and turned-on. I know where I stand as I reach out and snag the loose cig dangling from Vic’s lips. I smoke it while he leans in toward Trinity and puts his forehead so close to hers that she squeezes her eyes shut.
“You should be. Every person in our crew knows about you and James. If you want to keep rich daddy Jade from discovering that you aren’t his brat, that your mom is a whore, and that you’ve got no part of his pretty royal blood … Well, then, that’s your choice.” Vic releases her tie suddenly and stands up.
Trinity’s eyes trail over to me, meeting my green gaze with a dark one of her own.
“Do it, Trinity Jade,” Vic continues, cupping the side of her face in a way that makes me shift with jealousy, leather pants creaking as I pop out a hip and stare Trinity down. “We don’t want to have to kill you.” He taps her cheek and steps back, nodding over at Oscar briefly. “Let Maxwell know that if he doesn’t reaccept Ophelia’s original offer, we’ll start dismantling his organization from the top down.”
Vic takes another step back and then turns, gesturing for the rest of us to follow.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asks, gazing down at me. I look back at him before nodding. The idea of continuing the charade was mine. But this time, we have the same dirt on Trinity that Ophelia has. A stalemate, if you will. For now, this buys us time.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see that Trinity’s already stormed off, disappearing between two of the old stone buildings with her skirt ruffling around her thighs. I need to see the girls today—I feel like I might die if I don’t—but we also need to make sure as few people see us interacting with them as possible. They’re supposed to be incognito here. Heather is not Heather today: she’s Hannah.
“I’m sure,” I say, popping a fresh piece of bubblegum between my lips as Aaron catches up to my left side. Hael, Oscar, and Cal trail just behind us. Even here, on the grounds of Oak Valley Prep, people get the fuck out of our way when we’re walking. “I’ve got some ideas of how to handle your engagement on campus.”
Vic grins at me, wrapping his arm over my shoulders and pressing his lips against my hair.
“Whatever her majesty wishes,” he tells me as the spoiled brats of Oak Valley Prep watch us pass through the courtyard, heading in the direction of the elementary school. “Anything. The world. The sun. I’ll lasso the fucking moon.” He pulls away from me, folding his hands together behind his head as I try not to marvel at the idea of Victor motherfucking Channing quoting the move It’s a Wonderful Life.
If I were the type of girl that swooned then I might …
But ew.
Fucking no. Gross.
“Bernie!” Heather shouts as I pass under another ivy-covered gate with the words Oak River across the top. She throws herself into my arms, and I spin, like some bitch in a movie with a happy ending. Somehow, even as confident as I am in Havoc, I’m worried. Like I said, life definitely doesn’t make narrative sense. “Remember to call me Hannah,” she whispers conspiratorially, glaring at Victor over my shoulder before I set her down to join in Kara and Ashley’s hug-fest on Aaron’s legs.
“Boy Scout motherfucker,” Vic grumbles, keeping his distance. Oscar does the same, waiting beside him, while Hael and Callum have no problem greeting the little girls. It’s not like they don’t care or can’t show affection though. In our last phone call, Heather told me how she sometimes catches Oscar peeping in to check on them. She says his eyes sweep the shadows of the room like a hawk, that he drives away all the monsters. And Vic … don’t think I didn’t notice how Ashley threw herself at him when she was initially frightened of me.
“Bernadette!” Kara squeals, giving me a hug next and clinging to me so tight that for a moment there, I can’t breathe. I’d take that sort of death though, death by drowning in a little girl’s affections. They have no ulterior motives, little kids. That’s what makes them so much better than adults.
Surprisingly, a moment later, Ashley approaches in her little uniform and gives me a hug, too. It’s the first I’ve gotten from her. If I were the sort of bitch who teared up at that kind of thing …
“You’re staying here for real?” Heather asks, glancing between me and Aaron. “Everything is so nice. They serve drinks with ice and straws in the cafeteria.”
“It’s for real,” Aaron promises, palming the side of her head. I remember the way Penelope used to look at me and him together, like we were exactly where we were supposed to be. She always liked Aaron. And so does Heather.
“Do you still ship me and Bernie?” Cal asks Ashley, leaning down and putting his palms on his knees. He smiles at her and even chuckles when she pushes his hood back, revealing his blond hair to the world. Several high school girls actually pause on their way past to look at him.
Ashley nods and then reaches out a finger to touch the healing gash in the front of his throat. It doesn’t look nearly as gruesome as it did the first day. Eventually, it’ll disappear into the sea of white slash marks that already decorate his pale skin. I appreciate each one for what it is, a piece of Callum’s past, a shred of his trauma. Then, at night, I can kiss it all away, flick it aside with the hot brush of my tongue.
“What happened?” she asks as Cal stands up, blue eyes sliding over to mine.
“Just an accident,” he says, rubbing his throat as he looks at me. I have to actually tear my gaze away because I know what he’s thinking about. Mason Miller. The funeral for James Barrasso is in just four days. If something goes wrong there, it could go really wrong … But if it goes right? We’re just one step closer to the end of this shit.
“Starting Monday,” Aaron is telling Kara, pointing behind us and in the direction of the high school dorms. “We’ll be right there.” He kneels down and presses a new cell phone case into his sister’s hand, one with sparkles and glitter and little kitty charms. “If you need us, you know what to do.”
“Text or call and say ‘mare’s nest’,” Kara declares proudly, and Aaron nods, pressing a kiss against her forehead.
“Good girl,” he says, rising up to his full height. The way he studies the kids, it’s like he’s memorizing their faces—just in case. Fuck. I swipe a hand over my own face as he glances my way, meeting my eyes with a strange mixture of despair and hope. If this all works out, we’ll be set for life. If it doesn’t … well, we may not have any lives at all.
The sound of church b
ells tolling signals the end of the lunch period and Heather starts to bounce on her toes. She’s always been a stickler for rules. So, like, pretty much the exact opposite of me.
“The bells mean we have to go,” she starts, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at me. “But … I really like it here, Bernie.” I smile and bend down for another hug, letting her squeeze me as tightly as she wants. Like I said, you never know how precious a hug is until you can’t hold the person you love anymore. “Thank you for sending me here.” Heather releases me and starts to move away, pausing at the last second before glancing back at me. “Can we go see Penelope’s grave soon? I want to tell her I love her.”
My throat closes up, but I force myself to rise to my feet, nodding when I find that it’s become almost impossible to speak.
“We’ll go,” Aaron answers for me, reaching down to take my hand and curling his fingers through mine. “I promise.”
With another wave, Heather takes off, catching up to Kara and Ashley as they disappear inside of another ivy-covered brick building. Sending them here was the right choice, one that we made just in time. Who knows what the GMP might’ve done if we hadn’t removed the girls from their reach?
“Are you okay?” Aaron asks me, but I just turn and let him fold me into his arms.
“I’m okay,” I reply, nuzzling into that special place between his neck and shoulder, feeling his warmth blaze through me. “But I’ll be much better after we kick Mason Miller’s ass.”
He threads his fingers through my hair, presses a kiss against my forehead, and then leads me across the campus of what’s soon to be our new school.
From Prescott Senior High to Oak Valley Preparatory Academy.
Night and day.
At the very least, it’ll be an interesting social experiment. At best, it’s the start of a whole new motherfucking life.
For all of us.
For our fucked-up little Havoc family.
Tom Muller is the same sleazy-ass salesman who leered at me during that very first breakfast meeting with Ophelia. That was also the same day that Victor practically gave me an orgasm under the table and then chased me into the upstairs bathroom to finish the job.
Tom Muller is also the fucker who stabbed a shotgun into Aaron’s crotch and threatened to sell him to perverts—oh, and all of that right after he aimed a gun at his son’s head, a son that he either abused himself or allowed his fucked-up friends to abuse. Maybe even collected money for the privilege.
I’m scowling already, but Aaron is shaking with fury. The first thing he does is slip up behind Tom like a shadow and slam his palm into the surface of the countertop where the fucker’s nursing what looks like his third drink of the night. Tom startles violently, dark eyes flicking over to Aaron before drifting back to the rest of us.
“Hello asshole,” Aaron hisses out, curling the fingers of his other hand around the back of Tom’s neck. He looks about this fucking close to slamming the older man’s head down as hard as he can, just to see if he can’t crack his skull.
“I’ve got a protective detail,” Tom blurts, gesturing with his beer and spilling a good portion of it across the pink laminate surface. We’re inside Wesley’s, our usual drive-in haunt, the one that sits across the tracks from the Fuller High drive-in. During freshman year, my boys—before they were the Havoc Boys—would come here to toss Molotov cocktails into the backseats of the Fuller football team’s cars.
Aww, nostalgia.
Too bad none of that will help Tom any.
“What’s your point?” Victor adds, sliding in on Tom’s other side. “Do you think we care? That we couldn’t kill you and make it look like an accident?”
“Besides,” Aaron adds, blending his voice into Victor’s in a way that just comes too naturally to be faked. They might disagree a lot, and they might fight over me a bit, but they love each other regardless. They’re family. They were always meant to be family. “That’s not a protective detail, you moron. They’re fucking tailing you.”
Aaron releases Tom roughly enough that the asshole splashes his drink all over his lap. Aaron takes the stool on Tom’s right while Victor occupies the one on his left.
Behind me, Hael, Oscar, and Callum grab a table, and I join them, sitting on the side closest to Tom so that I can hear and see everything. My eyes scan the room, but there aren’t a ton of people in here right now. The few patrons still milling about are either well-trained Prescott High kids who know better than to bother us, or crew members.
“Remember when I told you that you’d die choking on blood?” Aaron asks casually, ordering a strawberry milkshake and managing to look like a total asshole as he slides the metal straw between his lips. “You are this close to realizing that fate.”
“What do you want from me?” Tom snarls, looking like a kicked street dog with its teeth bared. He thought he had the upper hand with Aaron tied up in his cabin. And now? Even Ophelia has betrayed his ass.
“Bet ya twenty bucks that he asks for cash up-front,” Hael murmurs, sipping a vanilla shake and watching the exchange over the rim of his metal cup. Cal has one elbow leaned on the surface of the table, head resting in his hand as he snacks on a basket of fries. Meanwhile, Oscar is on his iPad, acting like he’s not a part of this conversation when, in reality, he’s the one who told Aaron and Vic exactly what to say in the first place. “Right now. Today. Bet he says it just like that, too.”
“You shouldn’t be making anymore bets,” I tell him, flicking my gaze in his direction. He flashes a sharp grin at me because he knows exactly what I’m thinking about. Us. The Eldorado. Our oral sex bets … “Not when you’ve just finally paid yours back.”
“But I did pay you back—and it was epic,” Hael starts, leaning toward me and flashing one of his signature cocksure grins. “Bet you didn’t expect the ass play part though, huh?”
I give him a look as Cal chuckles and Oscar finally lifts his eyes from the screen of the iPad.
“Ass play?” he queries, in such a mild way that I know he’s immediately fascinated by the idea.
“Dude, you don’t get to take credit for the ass play when I was the one that shoved my finger up your ass first.” I quirk a brow to emphasize my point.
Hael roars with laughter, interrupting Aaron and Vic’s conversation with Tom. Both of my boys glance back at us, wearing similarly wry smiles.
“I didn’t come here to listen to your whore talk about anal,” Tom growls, and then Aaron is grabbing the man by his hair and wrenching him off the stool. The elderly owners of Wesley’s—those poor parents who lost their Prescott High alumnus son once upon a time—act like they don’t see any of this happening.
Even the adults in the Prescott neighborhood know who we are. Eventually, every person in this city will know. That, or they’ll remain blissfully ignorant because they walk in the light and have no need to see us creeping through the shadows.
Aaron shoves Tom to his knees and, at a subtle nod from Vic, removes a pistol from his belt. He presses it up against the side of Tom’s head. There are no cameras here, and we have—I glance at my phone—about nine minutes left before the cops catch up to us.
“Call my girl a whore again,” Aaron says, his face hard, his green-gold eyes honed-in on his prey. “I’ll wait.”
“What do you want from me?!” Tom wails, sounding frustrated and broken and sad. To be quite frank: I couldn’t give any fucks less how the bastard feels. He sells girls. He abuses his son. He was in love with Ophelia Mars, of all people.
“All we need you to do is include one of our girls in the group you’re sending to Kay’s on Friday. That’s it.” Vic leans in close, and I swear I can hear him growling under his breath. “And don’t you fucking dare ask me something asinine like and why should I? If you do, I might lose my shit and decide to shove the broken pieces of that beer bottle down your throat.”
“Send your girls to Kay’s?” Tom repeats, blinking stupidly in Vic’s direction before flicking
his eyes up to Aaron’s face. He must know how close my lover is to pulling that trigger, just for the hell of it, and immediately softens his approach. “The GMP will kill me. I can’t betray them. And you shouldn’t either, not if you want to finish up high school.”
Aaron puts the gun away and then bends down beside Tom.
“I think the problem here is, you’re acting as if we asked you to send one of our girls in the group. Let me rephrase it so that you can understand: you will send one of our girls. Nobody has to know about it. Even the GMP won’t know what’s happening.”
“Mason will,” Tom chokes out as I check my phone yet again. We have six minutes left. Fuck.
“Six minutes, Aaron,” I warn, and he curses. We need Tom to get the fuck out of here before our police escort shows up. His police escort was left back at a café in town where one of our crew members shoved Tom out the restroom window and drove him here to meet us. The clock is ticking on that, too.
“Fuck Mason,” Aaron growls, yanking Tom’s head around by his hair yet again. “And fuck you. I already said I wasn’t asking. You’ll do it. Give us the details on where to send our girl.”
“Give me the money you promised,” Tom snarls, but he doesn’t resist Aaron’s grip on his greasy slicked-back hair. “I want cash right now, up-front.”
Hael snorts, and I give him a look. Shit, well, I guess he was right.
“Our crew member will give you half back at the café. The rest you’ll get after it’s done. Do we understand each other?”
Tom says nothing and Aaron gives him a little shake for emphasis, leaning in to hiss in his ear.
“If you fuck this up, we will kill you.”
“Mason will likely get me first,” Tom mumbles, but Aaron just shakes his head, releasing Tom and rising to his feet.
Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys Book 5) Page 22