Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,22

steps over to the window and hops out.

“This is nuts,” I grumble as I slip the hideous frock on, and then shove my feet in my boots. Nobody stops me as I go for the window and climb out, following the flattened trail of grass toward the woods. I've just barely crossed into the shadowed darkness when I find Kyler Ensbrook on the ground with blood streaming down the sides of his face.

“I'm going to kill you both!” he screams as Hael and Callum circle him like sharks, and Vic watches, back against the trunk of a tree, tatted arms crossed over his chest. He barely glances my way when I stumble into the clearing.

“Apologize to Bernadette,” Vic commands, and I shiver. That's a voice made to control armies, to start riots, to incite violence. Vic could rule the world, if you know, he wasn't just some poor gang-banging asshole from the wrong side of town.

“Eat shit, Vic. Your girl has ugly tits anyway.”

Vic's face hardens in a way that's terrifying, this darkness closing in that swallows him whole.

“Break his face and teach him a lesson.” Victor pushes up from the tree and turns to head back toward the house.

He’s not being hyperbolic here: he’s dead serious.

My eyes flick over to the guy on the ground, hands curled over his head, a wet spot forming on his crotch. He’s pissed himself. He’s quite literally pissed himself.

Fuck.

If I don’t do something, Hael and Callum really will—and it’s gonna be bad. Trust me: I’ve seen them at their worst. I know what they can do. I know what they’re capable of. It’s why I hired them, isn’t it?

There’s no time to think, so I don’t bother standing there and waiting around for the boys to crush Kyler’s skull in. Instead, I race forward and kick him as hard as I can in the shoulder. An agonizing scream tears from his throat, but he won’t die from a bruise or a dislocated shoulder.

“Screw you, peeping tom piece of shit.” I spit on him and swipe my arm across my red-painted lips, smearing color that looks like blood on the ugly frock. Good. Now I can’t wear it to the luncheon. “You got what you deserved.” I step back and look up to find Callum and Hael watching me.

“Let’s get this dress and get out of here. This place is depressing as fuck,” Hael says, and then he laughs as I turn and start back the way I came, pausing when Vic grabs my wrist. His grip is firm, but not bruising. I lift my eyes to his.

“Clever little Bernadette,” he murmurs before releasing me.

I roll my eyes as we head back to the house and crawl in the window. Billie is banging on the door and shouting something, but the guys ignore her.

“Well, this won’t do, will it?” Oscar asks, lifting my dirtied sleeve and giving it a look. He gives me a knowing smile and holds up another garment bag with a single inked finger. “This should do it. No need to try it on: I know your size, remember?”

“Get fucked,” I grumble as Aaron gathers up my discarded clothing and tosses me my leather jacket.

“Let’s go. We’re done here,” Vic announces, and Hael moves over to open the door, leaving Billie to stumble in and fall to her knees. “We’ll be taking three dresses. Consider your debt paid.” He steps past her and continues on. She, apparently, doesn’t have a lot going on upstairs because she follows after us.

“Those three dresses are worth double what we owed you,” she whines, and Callum pauses, turning and blocking her in the hallway with an arm on either side of the doorjamb.

“You’re lucky this is the only interest you’re paying on that loan. Tell your brothers we said hi.” His voice is like a dark dream, this growling, hollow sound that gives me chills. If I had Callum Park leaning over me in his hoodie like that, I’d either make certain I had a knife on me or else I’d back the hell off.

Billie finally seems to realize who she’s dealing with and retreats … a little, anyway.

“Oh,” Vic says, pausing just before we head out the door. He turns to glance over his shoulder, purple-black hair falling onto his forehead. “We left your boyfriend bleeding out in the woods. You should probably check on him.” He starts to turn back and then stops, like he’s thought of something else. “And next time he