Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,53

made up of long, lean muscles, all of them earned on the streets. None of those contrived steroid-and-gym muscles that make up the football team for Fuller High—the prissy upper-middle class school across town.

“Why? What happened?” I ask. Besides Donald, groaning on the ground, the loose rope still clinging to his thin neck. The blood speckling the boys’ clothes. The way Vic looked at me as he swept past.

Vic.

Fucking Vic.

I feel like he’s gotten into my head, like he’s invading every pore, climbing down my throat, suffocating me.

“The Ensbrook brothers stopped by the game at Fuller last night and started some shit. Broke the JV quarterback’s arm, roughed up some cheerleaders. They did it wearing masks, and everyone’s on our asses about it. Like they think we’d waste our time on something as stupid as that.” Aaron scoffs and turns away, like he can barely stand to hold my gaze for long. “You should’ve gone with your grandmother,” he says again which just infuriates me.

You don’t know the whole story! I want to scream.

Grandma isn’t related to Heather. Even if she wanted to take her in—I don’t think she does—she couldn’t. Heather shares DNA with the Thing. If I left, if I went to Nantucket and lounged on the beach in a bikini, dated the cute son of a fisherman, let myself have a normal life … then Pen wouldn’t be avenged, and Kali wouldn’t pay, and Heather would be alone.

For some reason though, when Aaron looks at me with that stupid handsome face of his, all I feel is anger.

“Let’s go,” I snap, moving past him, and feeling his fingers grab the edge of my backpack. I glance back at him. He has the letters H.A.V.O.C. tattooed on the knuckles of his left hand, just like all the other boys.

Their own not-so-very-subtle gang symbol.

“Eventually, we’re going to have to learn to talk to each other,” he says, his voice hard, so different from the boy I used to know. There’s a fragment of that old Aaron in there somewhere, but that one bright ray of sunshine is swallowed by dark clouds. One day, probably someday soon, it’ll cease to exist.

“You think so?” I ask, and he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. The muscles in his right arm bunch and swell with the movement, causing the sleeve of his shirt to ride up. I can see the names of his sister and cousin tattooed there, right over the generous swell of his bicep.

“You’re a part of Havoc now,” Aaron says, and I scoff, yanking out of his grip and reaching for the car door. He stops me, pushing in front of me and forcing me back a few steps. Our eyes meet, and I don’t care that he smells like bacon and maple syrup, that I know he cooked for the girls this morning, or that everything he does is for them.

Just like how everything I do is for Heather.

“I’m a plaything for Havoc now,” I say, and Aaron growls at me, grabbing me by the upper arms and staring into my face, almost pleadingly.

“Were you listening when Vic told you the price? Or are you so intent on your own destruction that you can’t see beyond the confines of your hate for yourself?”

Anger and pain flare through me, and I tear myself from Aaron’s gaze, leaving scratches on my upper arms.

“You weren’t even there,” I challenge, meeting his eyes, wishing he’d shove me or slap me, so I had an excuse to lunge at him, take out all the frustrations I’ve ever felt toward him and his gang on his hard body.

“I was behind the curtain,” he spits back, narrowing his eyes dangerously. “Because I couldn’t stand to sit there and watch you make the biggest mistake of your life. You would’ve been lucky if Vic had asked you to be our whore, and nothing else. You’re not getting it, Bernadette: you are a part of Havoc now. Forever.”

Forever … Such a foreign concept. Something that exists and can never be broken, something that won’t shatter, no matter how many times it’s tossed or torn or trampled on.

My mind can’t even comprehend it.

“You’re a member of the group,” Aaron repeats on the end of a long, tired sigh. “Nobody else wanted this but Vic. Nobody. It’s too much, too personal, it brings you too close. But he wouldn’t let it go.” He turns away from me for a moment, eyes burning, mouth pursed. “He wouldn’t let you