Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,26
me. He’s tried, plenty of times. But I wasn't letting that happen to me. No fucking way. We've been battling ever since.
I'm a different person now though. A completely different person.
My right fist flies out and cracks Neil in the face before he can grab me by the hair the way he's always done, throw me against the wall, break my nose.
This time, I'm breaking his, even if I land in juvie for a few days. He might be a cop, but I’m still seventeen, and I know he likes playing with me too much to leave me there for long.
But at the last second, I pull back.
If I hit him, and I end up in juvie, then what happens to Heather? What will Heather do without me to protect her? The way I should’ve protected Pen all along. Sure, she was my older sister, but we could’ve stood together against the Thing, had each other’s backs.
Instead, she suffered in silence, and now she’s gone.
Mom didn’t believe her when she asked for help, and neither did that cunt from social services. They called her a liar. They said she was making it up to get attention.
My throat closes up, but I pull my fist back. My need for revenge in that moment is superseded by my need to protect my little sister, the Thing’s biological daughter, the one person on this earth that he should love unconditionally.
The first person he’ll abuse if he gets the chance.
Neil snarls with rage, and keeps coming, like a dump truck. His massive body slams into mine, but I expect it; I'm used to it. I roll with the momentum, finding my feet near the kitchen entrance. I scrabble up, panting, getting ready for round two when the front door comes flying open and Hael and Oscar appear.
The former moves into the room like a well-oiled machine, grabbing my stepdad by the throat and shoving him up against the wall while my mother screams.
“Bernadette,” Oscar greets, picking up my backpack from the floor. He leaves my sleeping bag where it is. “Pardon us, ma'am.” He gives my mother a look that's one part polite propriety, two parts cold, unyielding hell, then pushes his black glasses up with an inked middle finger.
“You like beating up girls, huh?” Hael purrs, his face awfully close to Neil’s. Pretty sure the Thing has stopped breathing; his face looks purple in the dull yellow light from the living room lamp. “Well, this works out for both of us then because I like beating on guys who beat up girls.”
Hael releases the creature to a heap on the floor, and turns back to look at me, his brown eyes scanning my body like he's looking for injuries.
“You okay there, Bernie?” he asks, and I nod, panting still from the adrenaline. Half of me is excited to see the Havoc Boys here, but the other half is wondering why Kyler Ensbrook got the snot beat out of him for looking at my tits when my stepfather has been doing his damnedest to sexually assault me for years, and he gets thrown against a wall? That's it?
He’s a cop, Bernie, give it time. Havoc is more subtle than that, and you know it. They can beat up Kyler Ensbrook and walk away, but they can’t fuck with the Thing unless they’ve got a plan in place.
I shake out my hands and stride past him, right out the front door.
“We’re pressing charges!” my mother screams, but I ignore her. She just might, has before when I've run away. I don't care.
I climb into Hael's Camaro, shaking, trembling, my fingers curled in the excess fabric of the ugly frock.
“If you didn't want to go home, you should've said something,” Oscar tells me as Hael pops his seat forward and lets his friend climb in.
“Havoc keeps no secrets,” Hael growls in agreement, and we peel out of the driveway, and down the street.
The guys take me to, of all places, Aaron's house.
The only place on earth that sounds less appealing than home.
My heart thunders painfully as Hael gets out and comes around to open my door. At the last second, he stops, steps back, and crosses his arms over his chest to wait. The smirk on his face is infuriating, but I brush it off. It’s hard to stay mad at a guy for doing exactly what you asked him to.
The little suburban house is quiet, almost peaceful in the night. I can hear crickets chirping