Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,99
as Heather turns a challenging look on me. “I'm not mocking, I'm just asking.”
“Aaron has a mask I can borrow,” she says, and I shrug. Whatever. It's only two weeks until Halloween, so if she wants to dress up early that's fine with me. “Can you do my hair though? You can just cut it all off with scissors …”
I give her a look and flip her ponytail with my fingers.
“I'll put it in a bun, and we can discuss cutting it off later—at a salon.” If I had the money for a salon. I grit my teeth slightly, glancing down at the engagement ring on my finger. When Heather noticed it, I told her it was just costume jewelry for Halloween. But knowing its worth, it's so damn tempting … “If you're done eating, go upstairs and take a shower. You stink.”
She doesn't really, but she could use a shower anyway. Heather frowns at me and sighs but does as I asked. Kara and Ashley follow up behind her and disappear into their room to pick out dresses, leaving me to sit on one of the three stools.
“Here,” Vic says after a moment, moving over to the peninsula where the cooktop is and pausing beside Aaron. He tosses an envelope down in front of me, and I stare at it for an inordinate amount of time before I take it and open it up.
“This is like two grand in cash,” I say, glancing back up and finding that endless void that is Victor Channing staring back at me.
“Your cut of the money we stole from Donald's safe, after expenses. We keep an account for Havoc related shit.”
“Like gasoline?” I ask, and Vic's lush mouth curves into a dangerous smile.
“Like gasoline.”
He leaves the kitchen and some of the tension in the room goes with him.
“The girls are going to a party, so what's our plan for the day?” I ask, lifting my gaze from my plate to the four boys in the room with me. Hael won't look at me for whatever reason, but Oscar at least glances my way, looking bored out of his mind.
“Aaron and Hael will be trimming and prepping the marijuana in the bathroom for sale while Callum has a day off, Vic does whatever the hell he wants, and I work on your wedding plans.”
The color drains from my face, and I stifle a groan.
Right.
Wedding plans.
Fantastic.
“What's our budget?” I ask dryly, expecting him to laugh in my face. “Aren't we just going down to the courthouse?”
Instead, Oscar smirks.
“Twenty grand, and no. You and Victor will be married in a proper ceremony. Care to join me in making plans?” he asks, and my mouth falls open. “It's not a lot, in theory, but we can make a classic, elegant ceremony happen.”
“Twenty grand?” I repeat, feeling my hand sweat where it's wrapped around the fork. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly,” he says, and that one word, coming out of that sharp mouth of his, is bound to give me nightmares.
The majority of the morning I'm left to hang out with the girls, helping them pick out costumes for the party and arranging their hair into fancy coifs with the help of YouTube tutorials. Aaron comes by at one point and hovers in the doorway, but I guess there's still too much weirdness between us for him to want to join in.
Once he leaves with the girls, I wander downstairs and sit across from Oscar on one of the couches, my still silent phone in my hand. I figure I better turn it on before Mom tells the Thing I've disappeared with his daughter, and I end up with a SWAT team hunting my ass down.
“Problem?” Oscar asks, looking up from his laptop. The shine of the screen catches on his glasses, blocking his eyes from view. I can't tell what he's thinking on a good day, but like this, he's impossible to read.
“I need to check my messages, but I'm dreading looking at them because I just know Pamela's gonna be pissed off, and I hate dealing with her.”
“Give me the phone,” Oscar says, gesturing toward the coffee table. I set it down and slide it across. He catches it before it falls off the other side and powers it on. Meanwhile, my stomach churns, and I lift one leg up on the couch, wrapping my arms around it and wishing the damn thing would start up faster so I could just get this over with.