Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,149
the shoulders of one of Aaron’s attackers. As luck would have it, I dig my fingers into the wound on the guy’s shoulder and find my thumb bloodied as Mitch Charter screams in agony. Having his followers dress up with bandages on their shoulders was a smart idea, but he didn’t bother to hide the hideous Nazi tattoo on the back of his neck. Racist twat.
Mitch stumbles back and slams me into the wall, trying to dislodge me, but as usual, he’s underestimated my tenacity. My fight or fight harder instinct is going wild as I drop down and slide between his legs, twisting and falling onto my back so I can kick up and into his balls with my foot. There’s a lot of power behind that move, and Mitch goes down screaming.
One of the other guys grabs me by the ponytail, dragging me across the floor as Aaron struggles to break through the crowd and come to me. But he’s severely outnumbered, injured, and shit out of luck.
“Calling out Havoc was the biggest mistake you ever made,” Kyler snarls as Billie helps Mitch to his feet, and the three of them gang up on me. I can take Billie. I can take Kyler. I think I can even take Mitch. But all of them at the same time? That’s a tall order. I’m a scrappy bitch, not some UFC champion.
“Bernadette!” I can hear Aaron calling to me through the pounding beat of the music, but I’m gritting my teeth too hard to respond. When I glance to my right, I can see him, on his knees, blood pooling on the floor. Danny and a few of the other clown-mask wearing guys are holding him down, forcing him to watch whatever the fuck Kyler, Mitch, and Billie have planned for me.
“Hold her down,” Billie commands as she straddles me, and I flail beneath her. Mitch is stepping on my left arm, crushing my wrist into the ground as Kyler keeps his tight grip on my hair. My scalp and arm are a mess of pain, but I’m not done fighting yet. I spit in Billie’s face as she accepts a pocketknife from Mitch.
She frowns at me and swipes her hand over those pretty features of hers, but she doesn’t move.
“Shouldn’t you be at home with your baby instead of out here causing trouble?” I snap. I’m not really into mom-shaming, but come on, Billie’s a shitty mom if she’d rather incite gang violence than spend Halloween with her kid.
“Don’t you even mention my goddamn kid,” she says, flicking open the knife and then grinning at me. “What should we cut off first? Your hair? Your nose? Or maybe your tits? Considering what your boys did to Donald, I think all three of those things would be more than fair.”
“What do you give a shit about Donald Asher?” I ask, but Billie just slams the tip of the knife into my arm, and a scream tears from my throat. Sharp, searing pain rackets up my arm and into my head, turning my skull into a mess of white-hot agony.
“I don’t. But fair’s fair. Clearly, Havoc has no boundaries, so why should we?” Billie pulls the knife from my arm and spins it around in her fingers. “And we’re not letting you hurt Kali. There’s not a soul at Prescott who doesn’t know you’re gunning for her.” She traces the tip of the knife against my lower lip. All I can hear is the pounding beat of my heart, and the rush of blood in my ears. If she mutilates me, do I really care? I’ve honestly never wanted to be pretty.
“Are you enjoying this, Aaron?” Mitch snarls, fresh blood staining the bandage on his shoulder. “I hope so. Because when Billie’s done, I’m going to let Logan and Danny have their way with your chick, right in front of you.”
Aaron tears his arms from the grips of the guys holding him and manages to slam his elbow into the crotch of one of them before three more guys pile on, crushing him to the floor.
“Oh,” Billie says, slicing a line from the corner of my eye to the edge of my mouth. Pain follows along in the wake of the blood, but I manage to keep myself stone-still, quiet, blank. I don’t waste energy on protesting; I look for an out or an escape or at least a way to inflict some serious damage. I figure if I go down,