Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #5) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,98

finger down the bridge of my nose. I swat him away, but I’m not entirely displeased. My mouth twitches and I reach out to steal Aaron’s shake. He lets me grab hold of it and then, at the last second, ends up yanking me into his lap.

“Well, I’d just as soon stay with you every night,” Cal continues, parking his chin in his hand and letting his gaze slide over to Oscar. “Pretty sure O feels the same way.”

“I’d like to have a bed of my own, in our future permanent dwelling,” Oscar says, and then finally, as if he just can’t fucking take it anymore, he reaches out and snags a French fry. The look on that motherfucker’s face when he puts it in his mouth reminds me a bit of his orgasm face. My lips twitch as I bring Aaron’s shake to my mouth and suck on the straw. “But I also wouldn’t mind having something of a master bedroom.”

“So you’ve thought about it?” Aaron asks, amusement clear in his voice. “What it would be like to have a house together?”

Oscar looks up at him, the light catching on the lenses on his glasses.

“Of course I have. Actually, Victor’s already asked me to purchase his grandmother’s old property in the name of a trust. Don’t act so surprised: where else could we live but together?” Oscar dips a second fry in the ketchup and slips it into that sharp mouth of his, closing his eyes for a moment while he chews. He opens them again and stares Aaron down. “We’re going to need a fortress, similar to the one Maxwell Barrasso lives in now. Fortunately, with Victor’s inheritance, we’ll have plenty of money to invest in a place.”

A shiver passes through me, one that Aaron feels as he wraps his strong arms around me and parks his chin on my shoulder.

“We could each have our own rooms, but yeah, a master bedroom of sorts for … orgies or whatever,” Aaron muses and I chuckle.

“Oh, I see how it is: we’re planning on orgies already?” I glance over at him, finding his beautiful eyes on mine. “We haven’t even … well, I wouldn’t call y’all running a train on me an orgy.”

“Running a train,” Hael repeats, snorting. “Is that what we did, Bernadette Blackbird?”

“If it walks like a duck …” I start, shrugging my shoulders and then pausing as Victor comes back into the restaurant.

“We should go,” he says, glancing over at Hael for a moment. In his eyes, I can see that Hael is right: something is percolating. Victor is all about family. All he’s ever wanted is this, the six of us together. All of the squabbling and the bickering and the arguing, none of that really matters. His grandmother’s property … all of us living together. For as deeply entrenched in hell as we are, that sounds an awful lot like heaven. “We could all use some sleep; we’ve got a big weekend ahead of us.”

“And an even bigger week,” I murmur as I rise to my feet.

On Friday, we take down Mason Miller.

On Monday, we start at Oak Valley Prep.

Not sure which of those two things is going to be more difficult; my opinion is that it’ll be the latter that really gets us. Prescott trash at Oak Valley. Gods help us all.

We’ll infect it like a poison, but honestly, I bet the place is better off for it.

The type of poison that Havoc bestows is the kind that tastes oh so very sweet indeed.

We make the two-hour drive to Portland in the Eldorado and the Camaro, with Vic riding his Harley. As per usual, as soon as we take off down the street, the police cruiser follows.

“You sure you’re alright to drive?” Aaron asks as I depress the clutch and get us lurching down the street. But it only takes me a second to recall the warmth of Hael’s hand and the gently murmured instructions from our driving lesson. It isn’t so hard as everyone makes it out to be.

“I got this,” I tell him, following our carefully planned route, one that uses the shortcut at the racetrack to buy us a few extra minutes. After a half-dozen practice runs, we can pretty much count on seventeen minutes before the cop car catches up to us.

Seventeen minutes to kill the second-in-command of the Grand Murder Party.

We must be fucking insane.

“Are you sure you’re okay to not be wearing your medical boot?” I shoot back,