Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,16

beer right off the bat, and I take it, finding that my fingers tingle when we touch. He smirks, like he knows exactly what I'm going through, and then gestures at my sleeping bag.

“It's adorable,” Vic says, ashing his cigarette, “but you won't need it. You're sleeping in my bed tonight.” He leans back in his chair, watching me. I half expect him to order me onto his lap again, but I think this time he's more interested in seeing what I'll do on my own.

I sit down in the center of the group, right on the dead grass, the yellow-brown strands digging into my thighs as I lean back in my red and black plaid jumper, my ratty combat boots crossed at the ankles. They all watch me, like they did the other day when I walked around the back of the school and saw them hanging out next to Hael's car.

Predators.

That's what they look like, like predators.

The thing is, I'm nobody's fucking prey.

Maybe they're more like lions looking for a lioness to mount.

I smile slightly.

I know what I agreed to here. The thing is, I want it. I want them. I always have, ever since we met in elementary school and things were good. Well, maybe neutral. Then bad. And now … they're whatever they are. But I always wanted to belong; I craved it.

“Do you have condoms?” I ask, and Vic snorts.

“You have a one-track mind, Bernadette,” he says, sighing and looking up at the sky with those dark eyes of his. I think they're actually brown, but they're so shadowed and full of pain that they look black. The eyes of a bully. I glance away and pick at the grass with one hand, holding my beer in the other.

“Not particularly. I just know what you want from me. And like you said, a deal's a deal.”

Victor throws his head back in a roaring laugh, and the other guys chuckle along with him, all of them except for Aaron who glares at me with eyes the color of the sun-dappled oak leaves behind his head.

“Really, Bernadette, it doesn't have to be all bad. I'm a skilled lover. The rest of the guys are … adequate.” Victor flashes a sharp, dangerous sort of grin. He leans forward in his plastic lawn chair, like it's some sort of throne. The way he sits in it, it could be. He exudes confidence, like he owns the damn world. Pretty lofty for a guy who lives in one of the worst parts of town with an unemployed drunk for a father. But Vic Channing, he could have whatever he wants in life—even if he has to take it by force. “And we both know you're not a virgin, so what does it matter?” Vic tilts his head to one side, that shadow-purple hair of his sliding across his forehead. “We have plenty of time for sex, so don't worry about it. When I want it, I'll let you know, and you can service me then.” He smiles in a way that gets under my skin, makes my black-painted nails curl into the grass so hard they're filled with dirt.

“Thought you didn't use condoms anyway?” Hael asks, taking two puffs on the blunt and passing it over to Oscar. He waves it away, and Callum takes it instead.

Victor smirks.

“I don't.”

My mouth drops open, but he cuts me off with a look. My chest is heaving, but I don't look away. A stare is a challenge I can take on, one that he can't exactly punish me for. I'm not doing anything that goes against the bargain we made.

“So what's the deal with this brunch thing exactly?” I ask, feeling them all start to stare at me again. It's unnerving. Like, maybe I could fight off Oscar or Callum or something, but all five of them? Including Vic and Hael? They could do whatever they wanted to me, and I couldn't stop them.

Hell, they did it before, didn't they? And they were much smaller then, back in tenth grade. They're all huge now, properly filled out. Men instead of boys.

I exhale and release my grip on the clump of grass.

“Some bullshit upper crust, society type garbage,” Hael snorts as Vic takes a drag on the joint and passes it over to Aaron. “Doesn't make much sense to me.”

“Heh. You are not fucking invited, asshole.” Victor turns to look at me, his eyes half-lidded from the weed, his beer half-empty, and a fresh