vMayhem At Prescott High - C.M. Stunich Page 0,120

school.

I loved it, too.

“True,” Aaron agrees hesitantly. “But we also can’t predict what someone like that will do. They’re not involved in this feud beyond a paycheck. That could be a really good thing … or a really bad one.”

The doors to the cafeteria open, and a hush falls over the room.

I glance casually over my shoulder, the blood draining from my face as I notice Ms. Keating with Officer Young and Detective Constantine on either side of her. Shit, fuck, and holy hot damn. The beautiful young Vice Principal looks a hot mess, her face swollen, skin puckered with stitches. But she’s alive, and, apparently, she’s also back.

“Ms. Keating,” I breathe, rising to my feet along with the rest of the boys. I’m happy to see they show her at least a small amount of deference. “Okay, wife. You can deal with Ms. Keating—just so long as she is dealt with.” Victor is going to leave Breonna Keating to me, which I appreciate, but how the hell am I going to handle this?

I'm starting to realize my moral code is just a tad stricter than the boys'.

“Bernadette,” Ms. Keating says, pausing just a few feet from me. She often calls me Ms. Blackbird, but apparently surviving an attempted murder together has brought us a new level of closeness. I shift slightly, crossing my arms over my chest to hide my nervousness. Officer Young is watching me like a motherfucking hawk, searching for anything she could possibly use against me. “I'm so glad to see you're okay.”

“Just fine,” I tell her, forcing a sideways smile. “But shouldn't I be the one saying that to you? Welcome back, by the way.”

“I'm not back in any official capacity, not yet,” she says, her jaw so swollen that her words are a bit slurred when she talks. I'm happy to see that crafty bitch got her nails done recently though. See what I mean? There's still hope for her yet. “But I wanted to check in on things. Primarily, I wanted to check in on you.”

“If possible, I'd love to move this conversation to your office,” Constantine suggests, his brown eyes scanning the room before coming back to land on the Havoc Boys. It's pretty obvious that he knows he's a sheep among wolves in here. We might be in high school, but it wouldn't be all that difficult to turn this room into a riot and end it with his bloody corpse hanging from the flagpole outside.

“Of course,” Ms. Keating agrees, giving the Havoc Boys a cursory nod. “Mr. Channing, congratulations on your marriage to Bernadette.” Vic flashes her a white-toothed grin.

“Thanks, VP,” he purrs, in just such a way that Sara Young shudders. Not from pleasure, I don't think, but horror. The way she looks at my husband, I can tell she doesn't much enjoy his company. I wonder if she can sense that the only thing standing between her and an early grave is little old me?

“Mr. Park, Mr. Harbin,” Ms. Keating greets Callum and Hael before pausing for a moment to study Oscar's fucked-up face. “Mr. Montauk, Mr. Fadler.”

“Hey,” Aaron says, with a small wave and a forced smile. Oscar chooses not to acknowledge her whatsoever. “Call us if you need us,” Aaron adds as I leave with the vice principal and the two police officers. Vaughn meets up with us in the hallway, but he's about as useless as a wet dishrag. Glad he's working for us now, but it's like throwing a sponge against a sword.

“I hear your stepfather is missing,” Ms. Keating says carefully as we walk down the hall together.

“I hear the same thing,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders. “But good riddance, am I right?”

Ms. Keating glances over at me, one of her brown eyes slightly obscured by the swelling in her face. Her gaze is sympathetic, almost companionable.

“After I passed out, I hear he manhandled you and threatened you with his gun?” she asks, choosing her words carefully. I nod and slide my hands into the pockets of my acid-wash jeans. “At the cemetery, where your sister was buried, right?”

I almost have a visible reaction to that news but manage to keep it together. I did not mention the cemetery to Sara Young at all, but she's been going up there to search for clues anyway. Does she know something I don't?

“Yeah, well,” I say, looking away from Ms. Keating and over to the row of lockers on my right. As