Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,56

pink, just like her shirt, nails, and hooker heels. She’s got on cut-off shorts that show off her ass, and she flashes this smile over her shoulder like she thinks she’s hot shit. “They made me their little toy, and you know what?”

I stand quiet and still as her words sink, but even when I feel the anger rise hot and itchy to my skin, I refuse to give into it. God knows this wouldn’t be the first time Kali Rose has lied.

“What, Kali?” I ask, crossing my arms over my black tank and waiting for her to spew whatever venom is tainting those sugar-sweet lips. One brow goes up again, but I make sure to tap my foot impatiently.

“I loved it,” she says, spinning around to smirk at me as Billie chuckles from her guard position near the door.

I smile.

“Doesn’t surprise me. You are a whore, after all.” I shrug my shoulders, but if what she’s saying is true … Jesus, for Havoc’s sake, I hope she’s lying. Those boys do not want to know what I’ll do to them if I find out she isn’t.

“They’re talented lovers, don’t you think?” Kali continues, choosing to ignore my insult as she sashays toward me, reaching out to tease the pink-tinged ends of my hair.

“Wouldn’t know,” I continue, forcefully pushing her hand away. “So, if that’s what you’re here to talk about, sorry, but I won’t be able to contribute.”

“Please, the whole school knows they asked you to be their little fuck toy,” Kali spits, face darkening. She’s always loved playing games. It’s hard for her when others don’t follow along with the charade. “Why else would they let you join their little gang? Are you knocked-up or something? I don’t see how else you’d get Vic Channing to put a ring on your finger.”

I laugh—can’t help myself—and Kali’s face tightens even further.

“Maybe Havoc let me join their gang because they realized I’m not some desperate, diseased snake looking for her next victim to infect with venom? And maybe Vic asked me to marry him because he’d been around a worthless, lying bitch before and knows how to spot a real woman.” I smirk and plant one hand on my hip. “Now, I came in here to piss. Get out of my goddamn face before I show you one of the reasons why the Havoc Boys took me on.”

“Billie,” Kali snaps, and like some sort of trained show bitch, Billie Charter whips a knife from her belt and comes at me. She thrusts the blade forward, aiming for my stomach. Luckily, I’ve got the stall door open behind me, giving me enough room to duck out of the way, falling into a crouch.

But holy shit, I must’ve underestimated that white trash bitch because she slams her elbow down on my head, making me see stars. I throw myself at her midsection and she stumbles back, but not before bringing the knife down on my right arm and slashing me from shoulder to elbow.

Blood blooms, splattering across the tiled floors as I rise back to my full height and punch her as hard as I can in the face. Kali is there, on my right side, moving in like she thinks she has a snowball's chance in hell of touching me, her army of trashy assholes right behind her.

I slam my boot down on her peep-toe heel, and she lets out a wail that echoes in the graffiti-covered little room. Nothing good is going to come of me staying in here, not when Billie has a knife, Kali is insane, and there are nine other girls just waiting to get their hands on me.

Besides, I'm damn near positive this is a set-up of some sort.

With one last shove to Billie's chest, I manage to skirt her knife and slip out the door, taking off down the hall with blood oozing from my wound. A quick stop at my locker grants me a black hoodie that I can slip on to hide the blood.

If I go to the nurse's office, there'll be inquiries. I'm not about to bring the administration into this. Lord only knows how fucking corrupt they are.

Just around the corner, I bump into Vic.

He snatches me by the arm, and I hiss in pain, his fingers squeezing the sleeve of my hoodie until blood soaks through and coats his fingers in ruby red.

“What the fuck is this?” he snaps at me, drawing his hand back to look at the blood.