vMayhem At Prescott High - C.M. Stunich Page 0,131
on the smoothie as I try not to laugh. Shockingly enough, it really is good. Tastes a bit like brownie batter actually.
“Ideas, huh?” I retort as Hael moves into the room and starts laying guns out on the counter. Thank fuck the girls are, once again, at Jennifer’s house. She’s a decent babysitter, and she lives in a stupid gated community with a dad who works for the sheriff’s office. As many issues as we have with the police currently, it’s still a safer place than here.
Especially tonight.
“Look, silencers,” Hael says, lifting up a piece of metal and then screwing it onto the end of one of the rifles. He holds the damn thing against his hip, like he’s in a fucking action flick or something and grins. “This should be fun.”
I take another sip of my smoothie and do my best to keep my nerves at bay.
Victor wants us to go out tonight and clean up the Charter Crew. Not all of them, obviously, because like he said: you can’t kill several dozen kids at the same school without a media circus. But if you pick off the leaders …
Kali is pregnant, so for now, she’s getting a pass. Nobody’s mentioned Billie.
There’s a race being held tonight, at the track that Aaron and I used to escape from Sara Young. Since Mitch’s crew essentially runs the races now, they’ll be there, no doubt.
Knowing we have to kill four people tonight though, that’s a tough one.
“What time are we leaving?” Callum asks, noticing that I’ve drained half my smoothie already and winking at me conspiratorially over it. “Because I owe Bernie another dance lesson.”
“You mean another fuck?” Hael quips, pretending to fuck the counter. He lifts the rifle up and aims it at the sliding glass doors before dropping it down again. “Just be honest man. Everybody here knows you’re jonesing for some of that sweet, sweet Bernie pussy.” Hael grins at me, and I flip his ass off with both hands. “Speaking of …” He sets the gun down beside the others and leans down to put his elbows on the counter. “After we get back tonight, and we’re both soaked in blood and violence and sin, let’s fuck on the roof. Nice and flat, stars above our heads, an entire neighborhood of suburban prudes to freak out with our moans.”
“You’re assuming we’re making it back alive, mission accomplished, no cops?” I ask, and Hael shrugs.
“Why would I assume any different? This isn’t our first time at the rodeo, Blackbird.” He pats the top of my head, and I slap his hand away. Can’t deny that his offer is appealing as fuck.
“Tell Vic I’ve already reserved you tonight, so he can fuck off.”
“Why don’t you tell Vic yourself?” Victor asks, appearing behind me and making me jump. Hael doesn’t seem to give a shit, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugging his shoulders.
Callum watches the two of them with interest, straw tucked into his mouth. I imagine if Hael and Vic started fighting, he’s probably strong enough to get them apart, at least long enough for them to cool their heads enough to walk away.
“Don’t start on me with that cocky shit tonight,” Vic growls, grabbing the rifle with the silencer and examining it carefully. He barely looks at me. Actually, he hasn’t looked at me much since yesterday. “We made a mistake in letting you marry Bernadette.” Victor agreed with Oscar’s statement. Shit, maybe they were both right. But also … Victor is mine. No fucking way would I have let some other girl marry him. Besides, even if I would’ve, he’d still have had to stay married to her for a year; we would’ve had to fight to protect her life instead of mine.
I’d rather fight for my own crew, baby.
I pick up a rifle and screw a silencer onto the end.
“Victor,” I start, and he pauses to glance over at me. Our eyes meet and power shoots through me. He is fucking fierce, my new husband is. “You know I was never going to let you have another girl, right?”
He smiles at me, but there’s a wariness to it; he knows he fucked up a little bit.
That’s what counts.
“You’d be surprised at the things you’d do for love,” he says, eyes flicking to Hael and Cal before returning to me. He puts the rifle into a strap and swings it over his shoulder before bending