Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,40
his non-verbal communication says he’s not very happy with me. The way his hand drops from my waist, the way his fingers curl around the end of the chair arm. “You asked me to be Havoc’s … girl.” I choke on the word a little and feel my body start to shake with that old, familiar anger. “Did you expect me to be happy to be here? Was that part of the deal, too? Because if it was, I didn’t hear it.”
His face tightens up, but he manages to maintain that ironclad control.
“You’re lashing out with anger in an unfamiliar situation, I get it. Been there, done that. Learn to leash it up and set it loose when you decide, and you’ll find it much more satisfying to control the rage instead of letting it control you.”
“What are you, a fucking shrink or something?” I snap, grabbing up the pack of cigarettes and removing one with shaking fingers. Vic holds up a lighter as I slip it between my lips, igniting the tip.
“We didn’t ask you to be Havoc’s girl, we used to be a Havoc Girl. Big difference, Bernadette.” Vic pushes me off his lap without warning, and even though he doesn’t push hard, I end up stumbling, sprawling into the grass and losing my cigarette in the process. He leans down to look at me, like some sort of king perched up on a throne, and I find myself scowling. “Blood in, blood out.”
“You keep saying that!” I shout back, pushing to my feet and wondering if I could take him on, too, beat his ass like I did Oscar, wrap my hands around his throat. It’d probably feel good, wouldn’t it? To take revenge on him the way I’m asking him to do to everyone else in my life who fucked up along the way. “I should’ve added your name to your own list, sicced you on yourself.”
He laughs at me then, and I find that I really am a slave to my anger. When Vic stands up, I throw myself forward without thinking, slamming into him. He doesn’t budge. It’s like ramming my shoulder into a brick wall.
A hot, muscular, scary sort of brick wall.
Victor grabs me by the arms and pushes me back, slamming me into the trunk of the tree the way he did his father last week. He doesn’t hurt me the way I know he could, but the force is enough to knock the air from my lungs.
So now I’m panting, shaking, standing there and looking into eyes so black they may as well be endless pools to drown myself in.
“Keep a hold of that anger and use it elsewhere. We’ll find you an outlet.” Victor doesn’t release me, his fingers tightening ever so slightly, his ripe mouth turned down in a frown. “When we asked you to be a Havoc Girl, Bernadette, it meant you became one of us. There is no expiration date on this deal.”
“And if I try to leave someday?” I hear myself ask, not quite believing there ever will be a someday. No matter what Vic says, I feel like my life does have an expiration date. I might not like it, but that’s just the way this harsh, ugly world works.
“Bernadette, don’t try me,” Victor says, and then he releases me, stalking over to pick up my still burning cigarette from the dry grass. He swipes out some stray embers with his boot and tucks the smoke between his lips. “How long have you been standing there?” he asks, and I lift my head to find all four remaining Havoc Boys standing near the driveway.
“Long enough,” Oscar says, gray eyes sliding over to mine briefly. The way he smiles, that expression could very well haunt my nightmares. Instead, I turn my now burning face down to look at the ring on my finger. I’ve been taking it off at home because if Mom sees it, she’ll have a total meltdown. She never did like the idea of me having a boyfriend. And she really wouldn’t like the idea of me having a piece of jewelry that’s nicer that hers.
I squint at the ring as Hael’s irritating, cocky laughter rings out.
“If throwing a girl against a tree is your version of foreplay, no wonder Bernadette isn’t interested in you,” he says as a shadow passes over me, and I lift my face to find Vic staring at me again.