Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,65
I’m alone for a moment do I take a breath.
During my sophomore year, I sometimes wondered if Havoc would kill me.
Now that I’m one of them, I’m damn near sure of it.
The next morning, I wake up on Aaron’s couch, groggy and confused and panicked. At some point yesterday afternoon, I must’ve fallen asleep. Sunlight spills across my face as I shoot up to a sitting position, my heart thundering, and look frantically around for Heather.
When I find her sleeping on the couch across from me, sprawled across Hael’s chest with Kara and Ashley beside her, I almost choke.
The front door creaks open and Aaron appears, wearing the same clothes he was in yesterday. He pauses for a moment and glances over at me, green-gold eyes rimmed with dark purple circles of fatigue.
“I …” I start, but then Vic follows in behind him, and I clamp my lips shut against the spill of words that are suddenly so desperate to escape. We need to talk. Why did you do it? Are you insane?!
“We’re having breakfast with my mother today to talk about my suspension,” Vic says as Aaron sweeps past and disappears up the stairs. “Hael and Aaron will watch your sister for you while we go.”
“I can’t leave her here with them,” I blurt automatically and one of Victor’s brows goes up. My stomach twists with anxiety, but I know it’s not about leaving Heather with Hael. Glancing over at them, it’s quite clear she’s more than comfortable here. Fuck. No, all of that anxious energy inside of me has to do with Victor and the fact that he screwed me against a wall yesterday.
“Really? Why not?” he challenges, but I have nothing to say to that, and he knows it. “Here. Wear this.” He tosses a bag of new clothes my way just before the front door opens again and Oscar and Callum appear. Oscar gives me a curious look and quirks an almost disturbing smile while Callum breezes past and heads straight for the kitchen.
“You look … ruffled,” Oscar says, his voice a smooth purr that doesn’t belong in this dark world we live in. He sounds like a fallen prince or something. “I think I like you better this way: vulnerable, messy, and wearing Victor’s gym shorts.”
“Fuck you,” I snap, rising to my feet and heading for the downstairs bathroom. Once I’m locked away inside, I dig through the clothing in the bag and find a black skirt, white blouse, red heels, and some jewelry that I’m just betting is stolen. There’s also a new lacey bra and some panties with a fancy crisscross in the back that will most definitely show off my crack.
My mouth tightens into a thin line, but I put the clothes on anyway. There’s even some makeup—expensive makeup—a toothbrush, and a comb in the bag that I use before I freshen up my eyeliner and lipstick. A small bottle of ibuprofen falls out of the bag, and I frown. I’m guessing Vic got this for me because of the knife wound … but I need it a bit more for the ache between my legs. I pop two pills, check my appearance in the mirror—I look like a fucking secretary—and call it good.
I say goodbye to Heather, but she barely stirs on Hael’s chest, and then head outside to join Vic at his bike.
He’s smoking another cigarette, offering one up to me in long fingers. He’s dressed up in another yuppie outfit, hair slicked back, the tattoos on his arms impossible to miss despite the disguise.
“Callum’s knife, huh?” he asks casually, still barely bothering to look at me. Some part of me wants to start another fight, just to get him worked up, to draw that focused attention of his over to me. “That must’ve felt good, to stab Kali like that.”
“I messed up,” I admit, reaching up to run my fingers down my freshly braided hair. “How much is Aaron going to pay for my mistake?”
“Kali was barely injured, and we know some people down at juvie.” Finally, Victor moves his dark gaze over to me, and I shiver beneath the intensity of it. “No harm done. But next time, talk that shit over with me before you do it. If you want to jump Kali, we can make that happen. I’d just prefer nobody else knew about it.”
There’s a brief moment of silence before Vic tosses his cigarette into the grass, and I follow suit. He mounts his bike,