Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,43
slip into the bathroom for a moment. What happened with Donald … the thought makes me sick, stirs up a dozen worse memories, two dozen. A lifetime of regret.
I barely register what I'm doing until I've passed the bathroom and found myself halfway up a small staircase, my palm skimming the rough-worn banister. A few steps later and I'm on the second floor, standing outside a small bedroom.
Vic's room.
My hand tightens on the newel post as his smell wafts over me—that musky mix of tobacco and amber—and the back of my neck prickles with the awareness of someone coming up behind me.
“Get in,” he says, and I hear the steps creak as he continues up them, forcing me to move out of the narrow foyer or end up brushing against him.
Besides, my subconscious must've sent me up here for a reason, right?
I step into Victor's room and shiver when the door slams shut behind me. There's a single bed in here, twin-sized, and a desk, a few random rock posters on the wall, and a locked closet.
The one I spent an entire week in.
My breath catches, and I take a step back, accidentally bumping into the man who put me there in that dark square of hell. His warm, hot hands land on my shoulders, and I jump.
“The fourth person on the list …”
“Donald Asher,” I say, letting the name fall fast and hard from my tongue.
Moving forward, I feel one of my Havoc nightmares all over again, the boys' firm grips on my arms and shoulders, the bruises coloring my skin as they dragged me across these very same floors and shoved me in the closet. How loudly I screamed, my nails tearing as I clawed at the door …
I wasn't sure I was ever getting out.
“Don't do that,” Vic says on the end of a long sigh, but I'm already moving, grabbing the handle of the door and yanking it open. Inside, there's nothing but a stack of empty shoe boxes and a few hanging shirts.
None of the pain I remember is there, hanging in the air like a poison cloud. None of the fear. I feel like the universe is spitting in my face, leaving such an empty, innocuous spot where I suffered so damn much.
Slowly, carefully, I close the door.
I'm stronger now, but part of being strong means recognizing when you've got a trigger and deciding if facing off against that trigger will truly bring you any peace.
Right now, I don't need the stress.
I turn around and put my back against the door.
“Don is a prep school student,” I say, and Vic's eyes narrow, his mouth tightening. He crosses his arms over his chest and watches me with that unyielding expression of his.
I stare right back.
Silence follows, leaving this dark, empty space between us, this gaping void that feels impossible to cross. I'm trapped here, in this impersonal little room forever.
“Get on your knees, Bernadette,” Vic says, his voice cold. He reaches down with one hand and flicks the button on his jeans. My own eyes widen, and I feel my pulse begin to race. It's not like I haven't sucked a dick before, but … “Well?” he continues when I most definitely don't rush to do what he's asked.
My jaw clenches, and I feel that familiar anger rush over me, that need to defy, to fight, to win.
“He goes to Oak Valley Prep. I still know how to find his dorm room. Not an easy task, considering the fact that he roofied me at the restaurant before we got there.”
The expression on Victor's face doesn't change.
“Bernadette,” he continues, sliding his zipper down. My eyes flick away before he can free himself, and I realize that I'm sweating. “You can't do it, can you?”
I pause and look back, only to find out that Victor's fixed his pants again. His face is a dark shadow, passing over the sun, cutting off all the light. He's terrifying.
“I—” I start, but I'm not about to back down. I knew what I was agreeing to when I made this deal.
“You made a pact with us, and you can't keep your end of the bargain, can you?” Victor's nostrils flare, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment. When he opens them, there's fire burning in his gaze.
“I can keep it,” I say, breathing hard and fast. “I've always wanted to fuck you anyway, just to see what it'd be like. It's hardly a punishment.”