Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,45
burger. “Why? Planning on breaking and entering?”
“Here's the thing,” Vic says, turning to look my way with dark eyes and a shadowed face. “We have a plan. The question is: do you want in on it?” He pauses, and I look around at the other four boys. All of them are watching me, waiting for an answer that seems inconsequential, but which I'm guessing is either going to win or lose me points in whatever substandard ranking system they've got going on.
Across the street, an orange Mustang pulls into the parking lot and four Fuller High douchebags climb out, dressed in letterman jackets and cheerleading uniforms. Vic flips them off, and their leader returns the favor. Ours smirks, and I just know he's probably daydreaming about all the ways he could hurt them if he wanted to.
“We should kick their asses,” Hael mumbles, but Vic, whose gaze is far away and impossible to read, just gives an enigmatic little smirk and shakes his head.
“It's not worth the effort today,” he says, and then turns back to me. Waiting. Watching. He's calm now, but I feel like Victor Channing is a cannon, packed tight and ready to explode. All he needs is someone to light his fuse. I imagine, however, that it's a long one. You don't find yourself in control of the most notorious gang to hit Prescott High in years without a long fuse. It's not a job for someone who's liable to fly off the handle.
“Yeah, I'm in,” I say, and Aaron's shoulders get tight as he glances our way, mouth set into a deep frown. If he keeps scowling like that, the expression is liable to carve itself into his face.
“Maybe you should actually tell her what she's in for before she accepts, eh Vic?”
But the fearless leader of Havoc simply lights up a cigarette and watches me as I eat, tearing into the burger and swiping a single finger over the front of my leather jacket to clear off a drop of mayo. Some girls I know won't eat in front of guys, like what do they expect the boys to believe? That they never consume more than a light salad? That they don't take shits? I've never been that type of girl.
“We're going to that fancy prep school tonight to find Number Four,” Vic tells me as Hael sucks down his milkshake, and Oscar and Callum watch quietly from the next table over. Victor's dark eyes find mine and hold me captive, a prisoner to his gaze. I don't like it, not at all. “If this were regular Havoc business, I wouldn't give you a choice, but this is different. This is the task you set us on, so if you don't want to be around when we take care of it …”
My throat gets tight, and I exhale sharply. There are parts of that list, things that happened, that I can't and won't relive, but what Don did to me, I can handle seeing him pay for that. In fact, I'll probably enjoy it.
“What's the plan?” I ask, and Oscar rises to his feet, handing over the iPad and letting me glance at the image on the screen. It's a picture from the Oak Valley Prep brochure, the one that shows all the dorms. There's a red X drawn on one of them.
“Is this where he sleeps?” Oscar asks, and I nod my head. How could I ever forget? That night is burned into my brain, a red-hot brand of pain that I'm afraid I'll never be able to extricate myself from. See, that's the thing with pain. Once it finds you and grabs hold, it doesn't let go easily. It's always there, a demon with reaching claws.
That's one of the reasons why I stayed, even if I didn’t have Heather to care for, why I pushed aside the invitation from my grandmother to go and live with her. How can someone as tainted and filthy as me ever live a normal life? The stink of my memories would be forever present, tainting everything I touched.
It's better this way.
Even if this is all there is for me, at least I'll know that the ones who put me here, they paid. At least I'll know I didn't wait around for karma to take her pound of flesh: the blood and bone of vengeance, it belongs to me.
“They don't have roommates over at that fancy school of theirs,” I say dryly, remembering again the text I