helping people. Hell, she went out of her way to make sure I was hurt.
“Come sit next to me, Bernie. I'm your new brother, after all.”
Memories swirl like a dark storm inside my head, pushing against the emotional levees I've built over the years. My protective layer of numbness is falling apart; these next names on the list are going to hurt.
1. the stepdad
2. the best friend
3. the social worker
4. the ex-boyfriend
5. the principal
6. the foster brother
7. the mom
One down, just six more to go … which, unfortunately, is one more than I thought we had to deal with last night.
“She's now the director of DHS’s new child welfare program.”
I throw my head back with maniacal laughter at Oscar's words. The thought of Coraleigh being in charge of protecting children … that's priceless.
Life isn't fair.
But if I have to sacrifice my life to make sure the people who hurt me suffer, then so be it.
Even if it means siccing villains on villains, I'll do it.
Even if it means becoming one.
“She lives in a big, fancy house in Oak Park with her husband Marcus,” Oscar continues, his voice as smooth and even as a snake's scales. I don’t liken his relative calm to tameness because, like a viper, he could strike at any moment and I wouldn't see it coming. “They have a Ferrari now, and a vacation home in Newport.”
I punch the dashboard and then immediately regret it, clutching my fist against my chest as my ears ring and my heartbeat thunders like a herd of horses.
Oscar smiles.
“You're not nearly as put together as you'd have the world believe,” he tells me, as if he knows the dark, twisted depths of my soul better than I do. What he doesn't know is that I once heard him crying in the boys' bathroom when we were eight. One of the boys in the class had pulled his glasses off and crushed them, and Oscar couldn't see anything. The boy and his friends took his backpack, ate his lunch.
Eight years later, I saw him curb stomp that kid's head outside of Prescott High.
I lick my lower lip to wet it and shake my head.
“He who is without sin should throw the first stone, Oscar …” I warn, and he laughs again. Maybe he finds it funny, me using a religious story to chastise him. We both know we're headed straight for hell.
“Your stepfather's becoming a problem,” Oscar admits as we pull into the parking lot of the grocery store. Across the street is the pharmacy where Hael took me to get a morning-after pill. “Seeing him at Aaron's house last night was a concern, to be sure.”
“Isn't that why Havoc has people?” I ask dryly, glancing over and finding Oscar's trenchant expression resting on me. He pushes his glasses up with an inked middle finger, flashing the 'V' of his H.A.V.O.C. tattoo. Jesus, what have I gotten myself into? “To warn us about that shit? How did the Thing get into the house? And with Kali and Scott on top of it?”
“That's what Victor was dealing with last night,” Oscar says as he pushes open the driver's side door open. “Several of our guys were left bleeding and broken by Mitch's crew; the rest are now bleeding and broken because Vic cannot stand failure of any kind.” He slips out and closes his door behind him, leaving me to catch up.
I take my sweet time, refusing to be intimidated by Oscar Montauk.
Once I get inside, I find him sitting at the café near the front door, sipping a coffee and fucking around on his iPad.
What a drama queen, I think, setting my jaw as I pause beside the table. Oscar gestures at the empty seat across from him with an elegant hand, wrapped entirely in ink. Out of all the boys, he's the most covered in tattoos. He must've really worked his ass off to get so many at such a young age. Not for the first time, I wonder about Oscar's family—or if he even has any. Sometimes, it's a blessing to be alone.
“Take a seat.”
There's a second coffee sitting there, waiting for me. I slump down into the plastic chair, listening to the incessant beeping of products being scanned at the registers. People wheel carts past as I sit there in a sea of normalcy, more aware than ever before that I will not be living a life like any of them. My biggest worry will never be about what's