I’m standing on a razor-thin fucking edge here, my eyes narrowed, my thoughts spread thin. Bernadette isn’t happy about any of this, and I don’t blame her. If I were a real man, I’d have spit in Ophelia’s face at the suggestion of an annulment.
Instead, I’m playing a general in a war. If I do that, if I can step aside from Bernie for just long enough, I’ll have a kingdom to give her.
She shouldn’t have even been in the position she was with Kali. If she’d listened to me, she wouldn’t have been, I think, but I have to be honest with myself that her disobedience turns me the fuck on. Even now, I can feel blood rushing to my cock.
I don’t blame Bernadette for not finishing Kali. She hired us for the names on that list for a reason.
“Sorry. It’s in the blood,” I reply belatedly, giving a loose shrug. My mind strays to Bernadette and sticks there. Seeing her with James Barrasso made me so murderous it was impossible to breathe. I’m glad she fucked up her mission to flirt some info out of him. Trinity, on the other hand, is a strange nut to crack. “What do you want? Checking up on me after my date last night?”
Ophelia tsks under her breath, plucking the cigarette from my mouth and stubbing it out on the side of a pot. She hides the evidence in the dirt and then stands up, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s a beautiful woman with dark hair, eyes like pitch, and a mean mouth. I look just like her, even as I struggle every day to be different from her.
“Whatever you’ve done to Miss Jade, she’s smitten,” Ophelia tells me, smiling in the same way I do when I think I’ve trapped a fly in a web. Why does she think that? I wonder, lighting up a new cigarette as she sighs in exasperation. If I killed her, right here and now, would I be able to drag the body across the golf course before anybody saw me?
“Must be my limitless charm,” I reply, smiling right back at my mother as she adjusts her sweater and straightens out her skirt. “She’s easy enough to wrangle. I’m sure I could marry her and own her ass the way I do every woman’s.”
That makes Ophelia rankle, and she scowls at me.
“Not that trashy girl,” she says, and I smile wider. We both know that’s what I mean, every girl but Bernadette. She can be controlled by no man. I let out a derisive snort. No wonder Ophelia hates her so much: they’re similar in so many ways. Not sure what that means for me and my mommy issues though, huh? “That no-nothing whore you’re so obsessed with. Just like your father, chasing after the sweetest tasting pussy.”
“If she’s such a waste of life then why are you so fixated on her?” I ask, and the way my mother looks back at me actually scares me in a way that’s so unfamiliar that I lower the cigarette by my side, careful not to drop it.
“Because I’ve never seen you this way before,” Ophelia says, smiling as she reaches up a pale hand to touch my cheek. “First love is so powerful that I once let your father of all people manipulate me,” she whispers, getting far too close to me for comfort. I don’t let my mother touch me, on principle. We haven’t hugged since I was seven years old. That was her choice, back then. Now it’s mine.
Carefully, slowly, I use the hand that isn’t holding the cigarette to grab her wrist and push it away. I love that I’m so much taller than her, so I can stare down at her like something unfortunate that deserves to be stepped on.
“Ruby wanted me to have that money,” I say carefully, giving Ophelia a hard look. “It was your mother’s dying wish. Why are you fighting this so hard?”
“Invoking my dead mother’s name won’t get me off the subject,” she says, stepping away from me and wiping her palm on her sweater-vest like she’s trying to shake off something extremely unpleasant, like a son from a rotten first marriage perhaps.
Look what you’ve done to me, I think as I look at her with sad eyes. Look what you’ve made me become. I am your creation as well as your son. If this woman had loved me, if she’d taken care of me, who would I be right now?
“Tell me what deal you’ve made with Trinity Jade, and I’ll tell you all about Bernadette,” I offer, and Ophelia looks askance at me. There’s the briefest flicker of fear in her gaze. Maybe she can hear in my voice how serious I am right now? “Just to be clear, this is a onetime offer. Because if I ever—and I mean ever—get you alone in a room, I’m going to kill you.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Victor,” Ophelia says, waving her hand dismissively in my direction. We both know how serious I am. “Does it matter to you why I’m doing this? You benefit from it as well.” She looks out across the green, shading her eyes with her hand. It’s too rainy today, so there’s nobody out there, just endless green lawns and trees.
“I haven’t forgotten what you did to Aaron,” I remind her, wishing I hadn’t seen the look I did on her face. I told Bernadette that we had to make sure that Ophelia never knew how much she meant to me. Never. Because if she truly has grasped it, Bernadette is in trouble—especially if I fuck this Trinity thing up too soon.
But I’m not a goddamn whore and at some point, that girl is going to want me to put out.
I have to deal with this before then.
“The Grand Murder Party,” I start, thinking how stupid their gang’s name is. I had to do it, Google the worst gangs in the United States just to see. The names don’t ever get any better. I smile around my cigarette as I take a drag. Havoc isn’t half bad, comparatively. “What are you doing with them?”
“Victor, just marry the girl you were given, have a little fun with her. She even told you that you could keep your sidepiece.” She turns to look at me with an exasperated expression on her aristocratic face. “I appreciate you putting up a pretend fight, but we both know this is the only way forward that doesn’t end in bloodshed.”
“You’re right,” I tell her, exhaling and then flicking my cigarette into the fountain, the same one I stood by when I first brought Bernadette here. Her blond hair shone like gold in the sunshine and the frown on her sharp lips made me feel like I was being eviscerated. “It’s the only way.”
I turn away and open the back door of the club, slipping inside in a dark t-shirt and jeans, boots and bullshit. I didn’t dress up today, but now that Ophelia and Trinity are vouching for me, the front doors open like magic; the employees treat me like a god.
“How did it go?” Oscar asks when I pull up to Aaron’s house and sit on my bike for a while, smoking so I don’t have to go inside just yet. Bernie is likely to be a mood; I want to be prepared for it.
“We’re going to have to kill Ophelia,” I repeat, which I always knew was going to happen. My mother has never once taken her claws out of my back. Even if I managed to make it to my inheritance through her interference, she wouldn’t stop. We could never rest easy, never take a breath. “And Maxwell,” I add, thinking of the GMP’s leader. “We need them both.”
Oscar says nothing for a moment, standing there in his usual suit and tie, hands tucked into his pockets.
“She didn’t come back here last night,” he tells me, and we both know who ‘she’ is, so there’s no point in clarifying. I turn his way, nice and slow, in a way that gives most people the chills. Oscar doesn’t give a fuck, just stands there and stares at me, like he’s waiting for me to weigh in on that. “And they both skipped class today as well.”
“Where was she?” I ask, but I’m annoyed as fuck anyway.
“She was with Callum,” Oscar explains. “They just got here.” He pauses for a moment, and I sigh.
“Alright, fuck, give it to me. What’s the matter now?”
“Nothing,” Oscar replies smoothly, but he’s such a damn good liar that I wouldn’t know otherwise. “The police have uncovered Neil’s body. Bernadette found out when they delivered the search warrant to her mother’s house yesterday. Apparently, they went there to rob it.”
I climb off my bike in a blind rage, ready to strangle Cal.
The door flies open and slams into the wall, leaving a dent that makes Aaron curse colorfully from his spot on the sofa.
Bernadette is all cuddled up to Callum on the opposite couch, the one stained with her and Aaron’s blood.
“What the fuck were you doing at Pamela’s house yesterday?” I ask, hating that I was with Trinity, knowing that it’s for the best. I know I should probably handle things differently with Bernadette, but I can’t help myself. Doesn’t she understand that every move I make is for her? To keep her safe?
“We were getting my stuff,” Bernie snaps out, looking up at me from the safety of Callum’s arm. I don’t dare touch her when he looks like that. Even something as simple as grabbing her wrist and he might snap. I sneer at him, a growl building in my throat, but he doesn’t care. We’re all immune to each other’s posturing by now. “Stealing it, actually. Pam wasn’t there, so we climbed into the upstairs window.”
“You thought that was a good idea?” I ask Callum, looking at him instead of my wife so I don’t lose my shit completely. “Jesus Christ.” I turn away and swipe a hand over my face, closing my eyes against my own frustration. It all comes from the right place—from wanting to protect Bernadette, to keep her safe—but it takes every ounce of self-control I have to keep from blowing up completely.
Seeing Ophelia this morning scared me in a way that I haven’t been scared before. We had plans for the Charter Crew, for Bernie’s list, even for the GMP. But my mother? She’s a wild card that I thought I’d had all figured out. I did not expect her to get involved in the capacity that she is.
“Tell me about Neil,” Bernie says, and I hear the couch creak as she stands up. Hael moves in from the kitchen, staring at me with a cocked brow, asking me if I’m going to make an ass out of myself right now. The question alone gives me pause, so I take in a deep breath and turn slowly—very slowly—to look at Bernadette. By the time I do, I’ve calmed myself down enough to realize how upset she is.
We stare at each other, as far apart and close together as we always are. We’re so much alike that sometimes we repel one another. Sometimes we’re both too stubborn and prideful to just throw ourselves into each other’s arms and fuck away the hurt.
This is likely going to be one of those moments. I try, I really do, but nobody touched me or hugged me or loved on me as a child. It’s a struggle every goddamn day to remember how to behave.
“We always intended for Neil to be discovered,” I say carefully, exhaling as Bernadette’s eyes flame with frustration. I don’t mean to leave her out of everything. I really don’t. There are no lies in Havoc, no secrets. I just want to take care of her. Why the fuck can’t she see that?
“I don’t believe you,” she retorts, and I raise an eyebrow. She’s so fucking obstinate, so goddamn stubborn. It’s one of the things I love most about her. It’s also one of the things that pisses me off like nothing else. She almost died at Kali’s hands because she didn’t listen to me. Kali, of all people. A nothing, a nobody.
I put my hands on my hips and stare down at her.
My wife.
The only woman I would ever marry—inheritance be damned.
I’m just playing a game here, that’s all. It’s all I ever do, play games.
“You don’t believe me?” I ask, and I hear Hael snort from somewhere behind me. Piece of shit. Of course he finds this funny. “And why is that?”
“Because when Sara was sniffing around the cemetery, you said she had to die. Well, if you wanted her to find Neil all along then you wouldn’t have said that.” Bernadette holds my gaze in a way that no other person on this earth can. She both challenges and enthralls me. I feel like her master and her slave, all at the same time.
I smile, and I can tell by the expression on her face that she doesn’t like that. She thinks I’m patronizing her. Really, I’m just amused.
“Bernadette, we’re going to frame your mother for Neil’s murder,” I say bluntly, and she blinks back at me in surprise.
“You … what?” she starts, dropping her arms by her sides.
I look up to see the remaining letters of Havoc watching me. We understand each other, my brothers and me. That’s why we’re all still here together, because nobody else in the world will ever understand the way we do things. We live in the dark, but we crave something from the light. We don’t do what we do for money or pussy or power; it’s all for her. It’s all for Bernadette. It’s a single-minded focus that few would ever be able to comprehend.
“Pack a bag,” I tell her, turning away from her. “You like having sleepovers with Hael and Callum? Well, you’re gonna have one with me. Tonight. Now.” I take off for the front door as she curses me out from behind, but at least this one time, this one motherfucking time, she actually follows my orders.
“Where’s your dad?” Bernie asks, stepping into the house with her backpack slung over one shoulder. My eyes find the spot on the wall where we first fucked, where I shoved her into it and mounted her like some wild animal in a thrall. I scoff, but it’s more for myself than for her.
“Who the fuck knows? Hopefully lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”
I light up a cigarette because well, shit, Bernadette Savannah Blackbird makes me nervous. I smoke when I’m nervous because, as the leader of Havoc, I’m not actually allowed to be nervous. So I hide it. I tuck it away and bury it like I do bodies.
“Did you ever find out who those men were?” she asks me as I pull out my phone and start a Grubhub order. We’ll get food, and we’ll talk, and then hopefully she’ll let me fuck her until the sun comes up. If she doesn’t, I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do. Being around Trinity Jade makes my face hurt. She makes my dick so soft that I wonder if I’ll ever get hard again. She makes me murderous, to be quite frank. “The ones who beat your dad up?”
I glance over my shoulder and find my wife watching me, my grandmother’s ring glinting on her finger. I actually liked Ruby, my mother’s mother. She was a rich ass white lady with zero ability to check her own privilege, but she was funny. And her laugh was infectious. She was the only person around who could willingly get me to come in the house and sit patiently at the table, no phone, no iPad, no toys.
The reason she left that money to me is because she knew her daughter was a venomous snake. She knew it as surely as I know it. I think she was afraid that I might become my mother—or to a lesser extent, my father. That’s why she put those rules in place. But goddamn if it isn’t a pain in my ass now.
“Idiots from the local watering hole.” I smile wryly. “He borrowed money from pretty much every man in South Prescott to gamble with. Why? You thought he was clever enough to be in the GMP or something?”
“I feel like I don’t know anything anymore,” Bernie tells me, setting her bag down on the table. “I never thought you’d consider Ophelia’s offer. Never. Your love for me … it goes beyond pride and common sense. At least, I thought it did.” Bernadette stares me down with eyes the color of emeralds. Does she have any idea how fucking fierce she looks? Regardless of what happened with Kali, she’s the strongest woman I know in so many ways. “And I liked it that way, Vic. We’re not supposed to be rational, me and you.”
I place the food order on my phone and then slip it into my back pocket as I turn around to face her dead-on.
“Is that what this is about?” I ask, letting my voice soften. “You’re worried about me and Trinity?”
“Not really,” she says, but she glances toward the staircase instead of maintaining that ironclad grip she has on my gaze. I wish she were looking at it because she wants me to take her upstairs so I can really fuck my claim into her. Probably not though. Not yet, I mean. “I know you’re not interested in her. I just …”
I move over to stand in front of her, my nearness drawing her attention and her mind back around to me. I have a physical effect on this girl, even from across a crowded room. We both know it, too. I smile, and she frowns at me.
“Bernie, you tell me what it is that you want. You called Havoc. You’re still—technically—a client. So what is it? Did you leave a name off
your list? Do you want me to kick my own ass?” I pause for a moment as she closes her eyes. She’s simultaneously easy to read and impossible to understand, all at the same time. Fuck, we’re similar. “Do you want me to kick yours?”
She opens her eyes again to look up at me, tucking some of that bloodred-tipped blond hair of hers behind one ear.
“I want to see the closet,” she tells me, and I feel my entire body go cold. Fucking Christ. The last thing in the world I want to do right now is relive the horrors we visited upon her. But then, the reason those same horrors didn’t work the way they were supposed to is because my girl is strong. My wife is queen. She’s the only person that can’t see that yet. Maybe she needs to? Most people, you lock their ass in a dark closet for an entire week with a bucket to piss in, some water bottles, and a handful of granola bars, and they’re gonna lose their shit. But not Bernie. She came out fierce-eyed and determined, mouth pinched, hands curled into fists.
The way she looked at me that day, I’ll never forget it. It was this one, perfect moment where her love for me and her hate for me were tied. An impossible balance to maintain. Her hair was greasy, the armpits of her shirt soaked with sweat, but she was more beautiful in that moment than I’d ever seen before.
Instead of breaking her, we cracked her open just enough for all that wild fierceness to spill out.
“The closet,” I muse, working my jaw for a minute. If I don’t take her up there, then I’m the coward she thinks she is. That much I know for sure. I look down at Bernadette and I know then why the universe created me. And that was to take care of her—whether she likes it or not. “I’ll take you up to the closet, but I’m going to keep dating Trinity until we find a new way out of this maze.”
“I hate you,” she tells me, but I smile because even if she means it, she loves me just as much, so it doesn’t fucking matter. From the schoolyard to the wedding, she’s always been mine.
I turn away from her and head for the staircase, moving up two steps at a time, just so I can get there a heartbeat before her, open the door, and steel my nerves. When she moves into the bedroom beside me, I’m ready.
Anarchy at Prescott High Page 31