Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,44

over one shoulder, I strut forward confidently and cup the bulge in Vic's jeans. Or … there should be a bulge, right? Only he's not hard, not at all.

He's testing me, just like with the ring … My finger passes over the engagement ring without meaning to, and I realize with a sudden burst of clarity that Victor told me about the ring's value to see if I'd do exactly what I thought about doing: sell it and run.

But I'm not going anywhere.

“I want this,” I say, looking him in the eyes. He stares right back, and the edge of his mouth twists up in a cruel sort of smirk. Not like Hael's smirks though, something different, something darker, some hidden emotion that plays at amusement, but in reality is on the opposite end of the spectrum.

“Then fucking prove it,” Victor says, grabbing my wrist and forcing my hand back. “When I ask you a question, answer it.” The threat in his voice is clear, and I find myself shivering, even as his touch on my wrist burns. “Donald Asher, spoiled Oak Valley Prep brat. He roofied you?” I nod, but with Vic touching me, it feels so much harder to admit the truth. I should've just spilled it outside, when all the boys were present. “He raped you?”

“He tried,” I say, choking back memories. Rape. It's a miracle I've never actually been raped, but the attempts have been so frequent, so numerous … I haven't felt safe since I hit puberty, since before. Sometimes I just get so damn tired. “He even invited his friends to join in. I saw his phone just before and locked myself in the downstairs bathroom.”

This trailer trash bitch thinks she’s too good to put out! Anybody want a taste of a southside whore? Come up to my room and we’ll take turns. No condoms required! I’ll leave the door unlocked.

A trail of laughing emoji faces followed that group text, sent out to a dozen of Don’s closest friends. My hands start to shake, and I think suddenly about Penelope, about her journal, how she felt when Neil was on top of her, and how I couldn’t save her, how I could only save myself …

Closing my eyes, I pull what little self-control I have left around my shoulders, and then open them again to find the leader of the Havoc Boys staring at me with an unreadable gaze.

There's a long pause here where I try to figure out how to keep explaining things to Vic.

Instead, he pushes my wrist aside, turns, and opens the door.

“Out,” he says, gesturing with his chin. I slip past him, and he slams the door in my face.

Dark memories crash through me like waves as I stumble down the stairs and shove my shoulder into the bathroom door, locking it and then curling up in the tub to catch my breath. A short time later, I hear the lock click open, and the shower curtain is pulled back. When I look up, I find Callum staring down at me with pale blue eyes and a sad, sad smile.

He puts a bag of snacks and drinks down on the floor outside the tub, tosses me a pillow and blanket, and then crouches down, resting his elbows on his scarred knees.

“Don’t worry,” he tells me, his dark, rough voice soothing away some of my anxiety, “we’ll get him.” His smile gets a little sharper, a little scarier. “And he’ll wish he’d never been born.”

The following Friday, I find myself at the drive-in near the train tracks, the one that quite literally sits on the wrong side. It's the polar opposite of the one across the street: rundown, cheap, but with stellar food. The other is fancy, upscale, and everything tastes like plastic. There’s an ongoing rivalry between the two places, drive-bys and car bombings, wars between the kids from Prescott High and the dickheads from Fuller High.

But at least in my life, things have been peaceful lately—thanks to Havoc, I’m sure.

“Hope you brought some black clothes,” Vic teases, tossing me a burger. He sends it my way and leans back on the table, like some model from the fifties, a greaser with a leather jacket and a nice ride, but no real prospects other than a pretty face.

“Are you kidding? All I ever wear is black.” I use the bench of the old picnic table to climb up to the top, sitting down between Vic and Aaron, and unwrapping my