vMayhem At Prescott High - C.M. Stunich Page 0,126
from head to toe. “I wasn't done with you, Bernadette.”
“No? You were just going to pop out and fuck Leigh up a bit before you came back?” I ask, but I'm not really that angry anymore. I said I was going to trust the Havoc Boys, so that's what I'm going to do. Oscar says he was coming back? So, guess what? I believe him.
“Leigh was waiting for me in a foreclosure about three blocks away. I had a crew waiting for me; it was supposed to be in and out.” Oscar moves a bit closer to me, reaching down to run a single finger along the side of my face. I close my eyes against the touch, imagining those pink silk ropes binding my arms, their knots a pattern, a work of brilliant, violent, carnal art. “Violence works me up, Bernadette. Maybe you're lucky that I wasn't able to come back for you?”
I just laugh at him and brush his hand away.
“Oscar Montauk, put your money where your mouth is then and show me. Show me what I'm supposed to be so afraid of.” I move away from him and into the grass, sitting down in the sunshine for a moment. Even more surprisingly, Oscar joins me. “I've never seen you do something so mundane as sit on a lawn before,” I say with a slight smile. “You might get grass stains on your perfect suit.”
“It's black, isn't it?” he replies, leaning back on the grass and looking up at the sky. “What's it like?” he asks finally, after several minutes of silence.
“What's what like?” I reply, glancing back at him and finding his gaze no longer on the clouds but on me.
“Finding out that Havoc isn't so perfect after all?”
I laugh at him again. Actually, I laugh until I'm in tears and swiping them away with my fingertips.
“Oscar, believe it or not, I never thought that.” I smirk at him as I curl forward and wrap my arms around my knees, resting my chin against my arms. “From the outside, the world needs to think we're a well-oiled machine. On the inside, I'd rather we were all human—even you.” I stare at him for a moment, and he looks right back at me until, eventually, I stand up and go back inside.
Rome was not built in a day; Oscar Montauk cannot be tamed in one.
But we'll get there.
Provided of course, we don't end up dead beforehand.
Fate can be a fickle mistress.
Oscar Montauk
I’m standing in the kitchen, staring down at a knife on the counter and trying to remind myself that I’m only supposed to be doing one thing with it: cutting a block of cheese into slices. It’s not meant to shed blood, not today. But I’m getting close to using it, to sneaking out and hunting Ophelia Mars in shadows until she’s gurgling wet breaths and wearing a second smile on her throat.
My hands find the knife and start to cut, creating nice, even pieces of cheddar to have with my apples. I have to eat sometime, even if the whole exercise of doing so bothers me. My mother was extremely particular about my weight; I think she’s left me with some sort of eating disorder.
“What are you doing in here?” Cal asks, padding into the kitchen at four in the morning in black leggings and an unzipped, sleeveless hoodie. He understands me better than anyone else in the family. Despite his pretty smiles and his gold hair, Callum is just a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He enjoys the taste of blood as much as I do.
Victor is brutal, but he’s also level-headed, and he isn’t afraid to feel. Aaron is still determined to be a good guy while playing bad. And Hael … don’t even get me started on Hael Harbin.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I ask coolly, lifting my gaze up to stare into Callum’s blue eyes.
“It looks like you’re trying to find something to distract you from Bernadette,” he says, sliding onto a stool and parking his elbow on the counter. He rests his head in his hand as he watches me. Luckily for him, there’s no judgement in his gaze.
If there were, I might get angry.
I turn back to the block of cheese, noting that it isn’t my usual brand. We’re on a budget here, and someone has selected some organic hippy brand in place of the generic store brand we usually get. I smell a woman’s touch and scowl.