Chaos at Prescott High by C.M. Stunich Page 0,65

package to the Ensbrook place. I have something nice in mind.”

“They could’ve hurt the kids,” Aaron snarls, shaking as he bends down to grab his discarded shirt. He drags it over his sweaty face, leaving bits of grass on his skin. I imagine if I were to get close to him, he’d smell like fresh grass and new sweat. My body tingles and I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “They could’ve killed them. Shit, they almost ran Bernadette over.”

Vic glances briefly in my direction, but quickly turns his focus back to Aaron.

“And they’ll pay handsomely for that—in time. If we start reacting to every little thing the Charter Crew does, that means they own us. Unfortunately for them, that’s not the case. We are the masters of this city, Aaron.”

Aaron just scowls, spitting at Vic’s booted feet as he storms past and into the house. He heads straight for the staircase, pounding his way up. Even over the distant buzz of the neighbor’s lawnmowers, I can hear his door slam upstairs.

He’s in his room which, oddly enough, has sort of become my room when I’m here. Not sure what to make of that, but I like sleeping wrapped in his sandalwood and rose scent too much to bring it up lest I get banished to the room with the bunkbeds. Come to think of it though, after my marriage to Vic, I’ll probably be sleeping in the downstairs bedroom with him.

“We’ll need to procure Aaron a new vehicle,” Oscar says absently, one, long finger sliding across the screen of his iPad. “I’ll schedule it for next week, when we deal with Bernadette.”

“Deal with me how?” I ask, but Callum’s smiling, so it can’t be all that bad. He lifts his hand up and flashes me his knuckles with the word HAVOC scrawled across them. He wiggles his fingers at me, and my own hand throbs in response. I cradle it to my chest, desperate to hide the sudden beating of my heart. Somehow, the idea of getting that tattoo makes this all seem more real, like … once I take that step, I can never go back.

“I’ll take the girls to school for now,” Hael muses, his face falling. “But they’ll have to deal with Brittany’s bitching on the way. Speaking of, what do you want me to do with her?”

“I already explained we had plans for tonight,” Vic says, turning back to his best friend. “I don’t give a shit if her date was cut short; shit happens. Take her home.”

Hael works his jaw for a moment before turning and heading back into the house. It only takes about five seconds before the screaming starts.

“God help me, but I hate that woman with a passion,” Oscar says, setting his tablet aside and steeling his inked fingers beneath his chin. He looks ridiculous, sitting out here in the sunshine in a suit and tie. He also looks dangerous as fuck. “We should kill her after the baby is born.”

I choke on my own spit, but Vic just rolls his eyes, making me question whether that statement was serious or not. He did flat-out admit to me the other day that Danny wasn’t their first body in the ground. How many others are there? I wonder if I should even ask.

“Finish that joint, and then get up. You and I have errands to run,” Vic says, nodding his chin in Cal’s direction. I wonder if the two of them have talked about what happened between me and Callum at the studio, or about what I did to Kali. I’m not about to ask because that’ll give Vic exactly what he wants: confirmation that I can’t get him out of my head, no matter how hard I try.

Cal salutes Vic with the joint and then takes a long drag, passing it over to me as he sits up. Our fingers brush, but I keep my body’s reaction as hidden as I possibly can. But to deny there’s chemistry there? I once read a book, some time loop story called Devils’ Day Party, where the main character said, “Lying to other people is insane; lying to yourself is suicidal.”

Pretty sure she was right about that. Oh, and her name was Karma. Talk about hitting readers over the head with metaphors, am I right?

“Bernie,” Vic says, crouching down in front of me. This zing passes between us, making my breath catch in my throat. Fuck you, Victor Channing, I think, but I can’t make

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