“Nope,” Hael grinds out, lighting up a cigarette of his own. The boys disabled the smoke alarm in this hallway on the first day of school. I know, because after I called Havoc, I saw them later that day fucking around with it and, like everyone else at Prescott High, I pretended like I didn’t notice. “That was the quarterback, the one Cal nailed in the face with hot coffee. Brittany says he, uh,”—and here Hael stops to give a bitter laugh and a shake of his head—“didn’t even come while he was inside of her. And she used a condom. The only other possible father for this kid is the fullback, some douche named Rich Pratt.”
“You learned this all last night?” Vic asks, and Hael turns away. Clearly, he’s been holding onto this information for the last ten days. There’s hurt pride in his face that makes me wonder if he ever really cared for Brittany. If she’s truly carrying his child, are they going to make a go of it? I could see that happening, based on Hael’s white-knight complex.
The thought infuriates me, but I hold it back.
“Let’s send some of the boys to deal with Rich,” Aaron suggests, and Vic nods. Beating the shit out of some guy Brittany slept with doesn’t warrant the actual use of Havoc’s leaders. A use for peons, as Cal might say. “Did she say why she thought he might be the dad?”
Hael frowns as Cal sidles up beside us, Oscar close behind him. He looks right at me, but I give him nothing in return. I want him to keep wondering if I might spill the beans to Vic about his proposal. That’d make him feel vindicated, I bet, like I’m truly the loose-lipped snitch that he seemingly wants me to be.
“Brittany slipped out of the cabin and fucked this Rich guy at the lake’s clubhouse,” Hael says, nostrils flared. “She says he used a condom, too, and that it was only once. My neck is on the chopping block, guys.” Hael glances my way, almost apologetically. “I was hoping that with you a part of Havoc, things could be different. I’m sorry, Bernie.” I open my mouth to respond when I hear Mitch’s laugh from the end of the hallway.
He’s standing there with his brother, Logan, as well as Danny’s brothers, Timmy and Kyler. They’re all watching us carefully, but it’s only Mitch who’s smirking. Timmy and Kyler have murder in their eyes. Likely, they think they’ve gotten away with fire-bombing Aaron’s van. Guess they don’t know Havoc as well as I do. Ever heard the fable of the tortoise and the hare? Havoc is the tortoise. A super fucked-up tortoise with a shell of pain and fury, but there you go.
“Why does she want us to beat him up?” Aaron asks, and I glance back at Hael.
“He won’t talk to her. Blocked her on social media. Started spreading rumors that Brittany’s been screwing the entire football team. I mean, she’s trying her best, but she’s only managed to nail two so far.” Hael scowls again and rakes his fingers through his red hair. His face has got a full five o’ clock shadow going on now, but I don’t dislike it. My hands itch to touch him, just to see how he feels against my fingertips.
“What a prick,” I say, and all five boys turn to look at me. “What? Brittany cheating on you is fucked, and honestly, I’m praying to the darkest gods I know that she isn’t having your baby. But also, this other guy, Rich, he needs to accept that he might have some responsibility in this. He deserves to have his ass kicked.”
“Our little feminist in residence,” Vic says with a sideways smirk. I give him a look and cross my arms over my chest with the creak of leather.
“You’re not a feminist? Because if you aren’t, we have a problem.” Victor whistles in response to my question and then pauses when he sees Detective Constantine walk by, watching us. He’s been at the school every goddamn day this week. I know the boys said they’ve killed before, but to be honest, the anxiety about the whole thing is starting to get to me. It feels like the guillotine is slowly sliding toward our necks. Between my list, and the Charter Crew, and the cops? How is Havoc going to survive this? I’m starting to wonder if I’ve put the final nail