let Hael go and never speak to him again. In that case, you can either keep the baby for yourself or give it to us to raise.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Brittany chokes out, brown eyes going wide. “I'm not giving you my baby; I'd rather die.”
“That's your choice to make,” Vic says smoothly, and I can't decide if he's telling her that it's her choice to keep the baby or not … or if it's her choice to die. Knowing him, it could very well be either. He stands up, cracking his knuckles and shrugging his shoulders. “If the baby is not his, then you're going to fuck all the way off. Regardless of parentage,” Vic takes a step forward and crouches down in front of Brittany, reaching out to lift her chin up. The way he does it, there's a sense of menace in the air. “You’re also going to get your dad to sic his dogs on a target of our choosing.”
“I can't control what my father does and doesn't do,” Brittany snaps back, and Vic grabs her chin harder, yanking her face down toward his.
“Well, you better figure out a way to turn his head and quick. We wouldn't send him on a wild-goose chase: there's another gang we want him to deal with, that's it. Just redirect his attention away from Havoc and over to the Charter Crew.”
“I don't know anything about the Charter Crew,” Brittany simpers, but I notice she doesn't try to pull her face away from Vic again. Good girl. I just sit there, content to watch things play out. My gaze drifts back to Hael's after a minute though, searching for some sign that he feels this strain between us. My heart aches when I think of him leaving in the Camaro with Brittany.
He was always meant to be mine.
I turn away to look back at Brittany and Vic.
“Of course you don't,” he purrs, reaching out to push some hair back from her face. She cringes and squeezes her eyes closed, all of that bitchy bravado she had yesterday fading away to nothing. Underneath it all, Brittany Burr is just a terrified preppy Fuller High brat. “And you won't learn anything about them until it's necessary. Let's just set this agreement up and then see how the DNA tests goes, shall we?”
“What if I can't get my father to agree?” she asks finally, as soon as Vic lets go of her face. I notice he's left red marks where his fingertips pressed into her skin. He stands up, looking down at her with an expression that reminds me that, no matter what sort of chemistry we have between us, I really don't know him for shit. I don't, I think, know what he's truly capable of. For some reason, the boys chose to go easy on me during sophomore year. If they'd wanted to, they could've destroyed me.
But not anymore.
I'm not the same person now as I was then.
I get up and move over to stand next to Vic, putting my hands on my hips and hoping I cut a pretty figure in my leather pants and jacket.
“You don't want to know what'll happen to you if you renege on this deal,” I tell Brittany, loving how meek she is. Does that make me a bad person, that I enjoy power? That I enjoy finally being on the other end of the bullying? I think that maybe it does, but I can't help myself. The old Bernadette, the one who believed in daisies and dreams, she was shattered to pieces by the hammer of reality. There is no getting her back, no going back to who I used to be. As Alice once said, there's no use going back to yesterday; I was a different person then. “If you don't think you can pay up, then don't take the deal. Fuck off and raise your bastard kid by yourself.”
“I'll do it!” Brittany snaps, shoving up to her feet. She glares at me, nostrils flaring, and then turns away again, like she can't bear to hold my attention for any longer than that. “What do I have to do?”
“Take Hael and go, tell him what you promised to tell him—who the other possible father is. And also who you'd like us to take care of. Don't let us see you before then. If you need to talk to Hael, text him but don't expect him to be a slave to your whims.”