I just stare back at him; my face feels like it’s made of slate. Gray and immovable.
“Open the back door,” I say, gesturing with the Glock as David sighs and the other guy—Mack Holdman—taps his fingers on the steering wheel.
“At this rate, we’re only going to be able to make the after-party,” Mack grumbles, but I’m not getting in that SUV until I see that there’s nobody else hiding inside of it. After a quick inspection of the cargo area and the back two rows, I climb into the center seat and keep the Glock at the ready.
“If one of you does a damn thing to piss me off …” I start, but Mack just laughs as David shuts my door and then climbs into the front seat.
“Calm your dick, chestnut,” Mack says, starting the engine. “Trust me: we don’t like Kali anymore than you do.”
He hits the gas and off we go.
Either I’m making a huge mistake here which’ll cause my untimely death, or I’ll be arriving at the after-party in less than thirty minutes.
Checking the Glock’s magazine, I see that I have six shots left.
I’m in a mood, too, so these boys … they better pray for the latter.
Bernadette Blackbird
Kali leaves the building with Sara Young.
The sight of them together makes my teeth hurt. I can only imagine the lies that Kali’s spilling out that pretty mouth of hers. Thank you, Stacey Langford, for sewing that bitch’s lips together. It was way past due and unfortunately, too short-lived.
When they get into Sara’s Subaru, Vic and I follow after on the Harley.
“Will the others be okay without us?” I ask, thinking of Logan’s body and his two discarded mistresses. Vic nods, but he doesn’t have to state the obvious: of course they’ll be okay. We’re at Prescott High; this is our domain.
We climb on the bike and take off at a safe distance. Too safe, for my liking. Every now and again, I wonder if we’re going to lose them.
My arms curl tight around Vic’s waist, and I close my eyes. This is where I feel safest, where I feel most secure. In all the world, this is the only place I can truly be myself. Because Victor can’t see me, but he’s here. Because he doesn’t know if I cry.
I squeeze him even tighter, and he takes one hand off the handlebars, just to touch me. It only lasts a second, but that’s enough. That’s how Vic and I work. We don’t have to spell everything out in words. As soon as I said that fateful word—Havoc—I think we both knew.
We can never be parted, not without bloodshed.
A few blocks later, it becomes obvious that Sara isn’t actually going anywhere. She’s just driving Kali around in a random pattern.
Eventually, we end up back in the Prescott parking lot.
Kali gets out of Sara’s car, and into someone else’s.
“Whose car is that?” I ask Vic and he just grunts out a laugh.
“Kyler’s,” he says as the other Havoc boys meet up with us.
“Where do you suppose they’re going?” Cal asks casually, hands tucked into his pockets.
“The after-party,” I say, and Vic nods, kickstarting the engine.
“Meet us there,” he tells the others, and we peel out of the lot to head after Kyler.
The after-party is being hosted by none other than the infamous Stacey Langford. We didn’t even have to ask where it was being held—we were asked permission to hold it in Wendling. It’s a literal ghost town, built by the Booth-Kelly Lumber Company in the late 1800s. All that’s left of it now are a few crumbling stone buildings, including part of a jail cell. Mostly, it’s just a heavily forested area in the middle of fucking nowhere.
A rural neighborhood popped up fairly close by, but even those houses are abandoned now. Some people just can’t survive a pandemic when all the bailout money goes to greedy banks and corporate shitboxes. You can thank covid-19 and our corrupt government for the foreclosed homes that sit nearby.
Tonight, someone has strung the covered bridge with lights. Tinny speakers blast metal music, and students swarm the place. Not nearly as fancy as the Halloween party Stacey threw, but then, it’s Snow Day so nobody cares. Prescott students lay out lines of coke on the bare bellies of skinny Oak Valley prep girls and jocks from Fuller High with ripped abs.
Vic doesn’t bother to park along the edge of the street. Instead, he drives his bike right into the crowd, leaving them to part like the Red Sea. When we climb off, everyone stares at us.
“Let’s go, baby girl,” he says to me, taking my hand and leading me over to a cooler filled with drinks. Vic pops the top on a beer and hands it over to me, his eyes on Kyler’s car. There’s no point in trying to hide; they knew we were coming. Kali is sitting on the hood with Kyler standing nearby. As we watch them, Kyler throws a look over his shoulder and then flips Victor off.
All Vic does is smile.
“Be careful tonight,” he tells me, leaning against his bike. “With both of his brothers dead, Kyler won’t be playing any games.” I nod, but my focus isn’t on Kyler Ensbrook.
It’s on Kali.
My hands ache with a dark need to wrap around her throat, the way Vic did to Logan. Part of me hates myself for wanting to hurt her so bad. The rest of me knows there is no other way. If the world doesn’t hold assholes like Kali accountable for their actions, they’re going to keep being assholes.
And Kali … she might not be as bad as Neil or as dangerous to the world as Eric Kushner. But she’s my special monster, my own personal demon.
I take a sip of the beer as Aaron’s Bronco pulls up and the other three boys climb out. The Camaro isn’t in such hot shape right now and is currently parked at the garage. I bet Hael’s missing it like crazy, but it’s hard to be focused on anything besides getting Aaron back. Just seeing his car and knowing he’s not in it … kills me.
“Smells like violence and unfinished business out here,” Hael says with a sharp grin. He’s got a pair of bolt cutters in his right hand. I glance down at them, remembering the scene from Vaughn’s office. I look back up to find Hael studying me carefully. “Brought these for the gate up the hill,” he says, nodding his chin in the general direction. “There’s an old playground and cemetery up there, but it’s technically on land still owned by the lumber company.”
“A playground and a cemetery,” I say carefully. I’ve been up to Wendling before. There isn’t a single person who grows up in Springfield that doesn’t know about the old ghost town. It’s the perfect party spot, the perfect place to hookup or smoke in secret. “Fitting. Vic, would you mind unlocking the saddlebag?”
He does as I ask, opening it up and revealing a box that I’ve never seen before. It’s sitting on top of the supplies I asked for: a mask, a gun, and a knife.
Before I get a chance to ask about it, Vic pulls the box out and holds it toward me.
“My queen,” he says, a smile twisting his lips. His inked fingers lift the lid and inside, there’s a crown. Just like I asked for. Staring down at it, I figure he either paid way too much for it … or he stole it. I’m hoping for the latter. I lift my eyes up to his ebon ones as my mouth turns in a slight frown.
The crown is beautiful, made of some dark metal that shimmers in the abstract lighting cast by the headlights of parked cars. There are no other lights out here, and even if we extorted some extra capital from the Oak Valley Prep crew, this isn’t the sort of place you call in party planners for. The strange light only enhances the perfection of the crown with its sharp points and red jewels. They look like rubies, but who knows.
“This isn’t even a tiara,” I say, fighting to keep the frown on my face. Because I shouldn’t be smiling without Aaron. Because I haven’t earned the right to call myself queen, not until I’ve taken care of Kali and gotten my man back. “This is, like, a real crown.”
“Only the best,” Vic says, without even a hint of irony. I close the box and hand it back to him, meeting his gaze straight-on.
“Keep it. Until I’ve earned it back.”
> I let go of the box and turn to the other three boys.
“How can we help?” Cal asks, his beautiful face hidden inside his hood. He’s already changed his clothes, trading out the suit for shorts and a hoodie, as always. Better to hunt his enemies in, I suppose. Barker Blacks are lovely shoes, but they aren’t exactly designed with murder in mind.
I heft the knife and the gun from the saddlebag, strapping the blade to my thigh and putting the pistol into a shoulder holster. The mask, I keep in my hand.
“Keep the Charter Crew off of me,” I say, and then I start forward through the crowd. Callum cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a howl. The sound echoes around the partygoers, cutting through the booming bass of the music.
Kali turns to look over her shoulder and sees me coming. She doesn’t seem worried. But she should be. I’ve got murder in my heart and vengeance in my blood. That’s what all of this has been about, setting wrongs right.
The crowd parts for me the way it’s always parted for Havoc. Any dissenters are quickly overwhelmed and dealt with by our own crew. It seems that without Mitch present, the Charter Crew is little more than a gaggle of confused teens. In the back of my mind, I can’t forget that Ophelia’s hired more … professional goons to do her dirty work, but that’s neither here nor there.
It’s all about me and Kali tonight.
I should just shoot her right in the fucking skull, but there are a lot of witnesses here. Fuller and Oak Valley Prep brats don’t know how to keep their mouths shut the same way Prescott students do.
So, I’ll flush the rat out and then hunt it down.
“Kali,” I start very simply, reaching up to slip the mask over my face. “Start running.”
She scoffs at me, turning around and swinging her hair in the process, like she thinks she’s still hot with those busted ass lips of hers. I smile, glad that the particular skeleton mask I’m wearing only covers the top half of my face. I want her to see my expression tonight.
Because this, this is the face of death.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she oozes, looking me up and down like I’m the same girl she fucked over in sophomore year. That’s her problem, acting like I haven’t changed for shit. In reality, there’s very little of that old Bernadette left.
I remove the gun from the holster and lift it into the air, firing off a single shot.
Some of the partygoers scream, but when the Prescott kids start to dance and drink again, things calm down quick. If we freaked out over every little gunshot in the southside, we’d never get any sleep.
“I said run,” I repeat, but Kali just looks at Kyler, as if he’s even remotely interested in rescuing her ass. His expression is dark, but it isn’t focused on me. Instead, he’s looking past me, toward the boys.
He came here tonight with murder in his heart, too.
Unfortunately for him, he’ll likely have that wish granted.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Kali challenges, her dress too short in the front, too low-cut. I can see her sadness spilling out of it. She steps a little closer, coming toe-to-toe with me. “You’re not going to shoot me in front of all these people; we both know that.”
“I know you had something to do with Aaron’s disappearance,” I whisper, gritting my teeth and wishing I could just rip her fucking throat out with my mouth, taste the sweet copper of her blood.
“You bet your ass I did,” Kali coos back at me, leaning back just enough that I can see the smirk on her face.
From behind me, I hear Vic murmur something to Hael. As I stand there, shaking and fighting the urge to blow Kali’s brains out, witnesses be damned, Hael storms over to the cluster of hastily nailed-together pallets where some grungy Prescott metalcore band is preparing to play a set.
He snags an electric guitar and approaches the microphone with one of those infectious grins in place.
“Happy Snow Day, Wendling,” he says, caressing the mic like it’s some girl’s inner thigh. “My name is Hael Harbin, and I used to rock with these pathetic assholes in freshman year.” He pauses again, giving the audience a break from the carnal purr of his words. You could paint them on you, those words, and they’d form runes that spelled the body into the sweet, sinful lull of sex. “We’re going to play a quick one for old-time’s sake, right guys?”
He glances around at the others, nods, and then wets his lips.
Hael starts to strum the guitar, and I have to hide my surprise. I vaguely recall that he was in a band during the first half of freshman year, but that’s about all that I know. When he starts to sing … well, you could’ve knocked my ass over with a feather.
Fuck, but not in front of Kali. My eyes flick back to find her watching me as the music blasts through the speakers, killing the eardrums of the crowd, drawing their attention to the stage. Everybody wants to see the first letter of Havoc sing while they snort coke and down a staggering amount of alcohol. The Oak Valley kids have really outdone themselves this year.
“Thank you for admitting that,” I tell Kali as the guys do their thing, redirecting the crowd like a flock of songbirds being chased by a hawk. My boys have sharp beaks, don’t they? “I’ll feel a lot less guilty when I finally gut you.”
“You wouldn’t,” Kali says, dancing back a few steps. I notice then that Kyler’s gone, but I don’t care about him. He isn’t going to live to see the end of the night. Both exciting and scary. The Charter Crew will be hamstrung, little more than scattered teenage thugs. Unfortunately, that also means a good half-dozen missing and deceased Prescott kids.
Somebody will notice. Sara Young will notice. Detective Constantine will notice.
But it has to be done. Time to clean house.
“Wouldn’t I?” I echo, cocking my head to one side. I’m still holding the gun at my side, but Kali’s not paying it much attention. She thinks she has me pegged. “I’m a vastly different girl from the one you fucked over. The girl you stole from. The girl you lied to. Kali Rose, you’ve done a damn good job of playing the victim in the past, but guess what? The truth always comes out. And look around. There’s nobody left to fight your battles for you anymore. It’s over.”
“I’m pregnant, Bernie,” she says, smiling and putting a hand over her still nearly-flat tummy. “And the baby that I’m carrying is Heather’s little brother or sister. Would you really do that to her? Deny her the chance to get to know a future sibling?”
“Where is Aaron?” I ask, because even if Kali is telling the truth—the girl is a born-again liar—it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is that she’s done with Aaron, she’s taken it too far. You do not touch my family and walk away. Ask Neil Pence, buried in a shallow grave and left to suffocate alone in the dark. “If you tell me, I’ll make this easier on you. A clean shot to the head, that’s all I can promise.”
Kali laughs again, like this is some sort of game, like she’s immune to becoming another Danny Ensbrook—a rotten, unwanted corpse, buried and forgotten.
“You know how boys can’t help getting hard sometimes?” Kali asks innocently, and I swear to fuck, my vision washes in red, like my eyes are filled with blood. She lifts her dark gaze up to mine, and I have to hold back a rush of nausea. “Goddamn, he dicked me good.”
Stepping forward, I swing the gun at Kali’s head and end up hitting her in the face with it. A good pistol-whip, like Neil gave to poor Ms. Keating. This time though, the roles are reversed. I’m nowhere near as good a ‘good guy’ as our vice principal, but I’m most certainly a step up from Kali Rose-Kennedy.
She staggers back, but she isn’t surprised. Nor is she unprepared. She slips a pistol out of the sparkly gold purse on her shoulder and levels it on me.
“Tit for tat, bitch,” she tells me, and then she backs up toward the edge of the road, where the trees meet the pavement. “Thanks for letting me fuck and kill your boy tonight.” Kali turns and darts into the woods, even as I take a shot at her. I shouldn’t, but I do.
Bark explodes, raining shrapnel
down on the road. There’s a macabre sort of beauty to it as it catches the light from the headlights of the idling cars.
As soon as it hits the ground, it’s like a lever’s been pulled. I’ve been released into the wild. Kicking my heels off, I take off after Kali. I’m not thinking clearly, but at least I have the Havoc Boys to rein my ass in.
“Bernie,” Vic hisses, grabbing onto my arm and stopping me short. His breath stirs my hair, and my body reacts to his like it’s been lit on fire. I inhale sharply as my heart thumps and slams into my rib cage, breaking bones. Victor owns that, my skeleton, I mean. He owns my blood and my bones and my entire motherfucking dark-ass soul. “Kali’s baiting you into the woods for a reason. You think that weak-ass little bitch really wants to have a showdown with you in the dark? Nah.”
He yanks me close and I growl back at him. Like I said, time to hunt, not time to mate.
“There’s a trap laid here somewhere that we’re missing,” Oscar says, stepping up beside us. I notice that his tie is loose, his hand holding his revolver by his side. Hael is still onstage, but Callum is nowhere to be seen.
If I had to hazard a guess, he’s creeping through the dark after Kyler.
“Definitely,” Vic agrees, a deep frown creasing his beautiful mouth. “I think we should leave. Now. It was a mistake to come here.”
“I have to get Kali,” I stress, feeling my voice crack. My mind is broken. What are they even saying? A mistake? A trap? “Kali just admitted that she raped Aaron.” The words feel hollow and strange scraping past my lips. It’s rare as hell for a female to rape a male, but … if anyone were capable of it, it’d be Kali.
Victor grabs my face between his big hands, forcing me to look at him.
“We will get her, but we have to go.” He nods his chin at Oscar. “Get Hael and Callum,” he says, and then he lets go of me.
Anarchy at Prescott High Page 5