kids. Maybe we're still kids, but things are different now. I'm not sure how safe or smart it is to let my heart believe we can ever recapture the past.
“I wouldn't mind something to eat, if you're up for having food delivered.” He glances down at his phone, twisting his mouth to the side in a sardonic smile. “It's nearly five o'clock anyway, so pizza seems appropriate.”
“Five o'clock?” I choke out, pushing up to my feet and heading for the door. I'm no longer wearing my bloodstained clothes from last night, just an old t-shirt I stole from Aaron's dresser. The smell of it—like sandalwood and rose, like Aaron himself—lulled me to sleep last night. Underneath, I’m not wearing shit, but luckily the shirt is long enough to cover me. We're all about casual here, in fucking Havoc House. “Hey,” I say as I open the door to find my sister, along with Aaron's sister Kara and cousin Ashley. “Sorry we slept so late. We … had a long night.” I clench my jaw against the stark reality of that statement.
It’s Friday today, a school day, but only technically speaking. Prescott High would’ve been a ghost town. Nobody in the southside goes to class the day after Halloween, regardless of what day of the week it is. I do feel kind of shitty about not taking the girls though.
“We don't care,” Heather says, peering past me to see both Aaron and Vic in the bed. How weird is that, that we all slept in there together? A tingle passes through me, and I have to wrap my arms around myself to keep it contained. It feels like a sparkle, and I don't like sparkles. They're nothing but bullshit covered in glitter. “We played video games with Hael and ate chips and Twinkies. Ashley puked on Hael's jeans.” She points back at Kara's younger cousin, and the little girl hides behind Kara like she has something to be ashamed of.
I just roll my eyes and run my fingers through my hair.
“Anyone would throw up after a night of candy and a day of junk food.” I glance back at Aaron, sitting in bed with a bandage on his arm, his muscles those of a man, his boy’s body shed along with his old life. What was I thinking? He hasn't been a kid for a long time, and neither have I. “I'll cook something. I just need someone to take me to the store.”
“You'll make tacos?” Heather asks, clasping her hands together in a prayer position. The golden highlights in her light brown hair remind me of Penelope. So much so that I find that I suddenly can't breathe. Shit, fuck, bitch. This is all Vic's fault. And Aaron's, how dare he almost die on me. That's so not freaking fair for him to do that, to trick me into thinking I might lose him so that my walls could come tumbling down. And Callum? He just risked life in prison to save me.
Screw these Havoc Boys, and everything they stand for.
If I were smart, I'd just take Heather and run.
Instead, my blood is thick with vengeance, and the more the boys push, the more of my emotional walls they knock down, the harder I want to fight. The more I hurt. For myself, for Penelope. Like a caged cat, my claws are out.
“Oscar can take you in the van,” Vic murmurs, surprising me. I glance back, but his crow-black eyes are still closed. I'd have known if they were open and boring into me; I'd have felt them.
“Fan-flipping-tastic,” I growl, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind me. As soon as I do, I feel a brief moment of respite. Victor is a lot; Aaron and I have baggage. I just need a minute.
“Shall I make a list?” Oscar asks, looking up from his iPad to stare at me through perfectly clean lenses. I've never seen them with a smudge or a speck; they're almost too clean. He's practically inhuman. “I don't like to dawdle in supermarkets, especially when we're in the middle of a turf war.”
“I'm not exactly the list-making type,” I quip back, giving him a look. He stares right back at me, cutting through me with a slate-gray stare, and then lets his attention dip to my thighs. The shirt is just barely long enough to cover my crotch, leaving little to the imagination.
“Well, then, I suppose I'll make the list while you find