Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,96
unfolding from that chair in such a graceful way that I find myself envious again. I've never been clumsy per se, but I've also never been particularly graceful either. Callum makes every movement he makes look like dance.
The front door opens and Aaron appears, limned in light from inside.
“We're done here,” he says, and only then do I notice the blood on his knuckles. He sees me looking and swipes them on his jeans like he's ashamed. Violence. It's what Havoc does, I'm not surprised at all. “If there's anything in the cabin you want, come get it.”
Cal heads inside, but I stay where I am. There's nothing in there I want; it's all tainted.
“You beat him up?” I ask, and Aaron shrugs.
“Not as bad as Don,” is the only response I get before Oscar appears, carrying the laptop and camera, probably to sell later. Principal Vaughn comes stumbling out next, naked, shaking, and spattered with blood. Hael shoves him in the back and he falls down the front steps.
“Go on, get the fuck out of here,” he says as the principal struggles to get to his feet. “Start running, and don't stop.” Hael glances my way and a strange expression crosses his face. “You don't want to know what'll happen if we find you.”
My entire body ripples with disgust, and I turn away.
“Let's light this baby up,” Hael continues, and I hear Vic grunt his agreement. The smell of gasoline stings my nostrils as Callum hooks a hose up to a water pump and turns it on, soaking the ground around the cabin. I guess they're looking to keep the fire contained?
“Come on,” Aaron says, and when I don't respond, he reaches out and grabs my hand.
A violent shiver overtakes me, and I tear my hand away from him, moving down the steps of my own accord and standing back while the rest of the boys douse the place.
“Burn it fucking down,” Vic commands as we gather near the minivan, and Cal steps forward with an old-fashioned lighter in his hand, flicking it on and then tossing it onto the front steps.
Flames sweep over the cabin and consume it, leaving nothing but ash in their wake.
Two years earlier …
Everything I own is lying in a heap in the backyard. I'm the only person home at the moment, standing with one hand on the edge of the sliding glass door, my eyes focused on the admittedly small mountain of clothing, books, and furniture tossed haphazardly on the gravel-covered area near the old shed.
“Boo.”
A voice surprises me from behind, and I jump, a strong arm banding around my waist and yanking me into a firm chest.
I know immediately who it is that's holding me there: Victor fucking Channing.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to whisper, fear a hot, wild thing inside my chest. But my body's a traitor because it's not just fear that I'm feeling, it's want. Need. An emotion I never thought I'd be able to associate with the Havoc Boys, not after what they did to me during pageant week.
Not when they ruined homecoming.
Not when they make me question every step I take.
They've turned Prescott High into a nightmare for me.
“We've decided to have a bonfire,” Vic says, his mouth too close to my ear. I stay stone-still, terrified of whatever it is he's got planned. That's when I see Aaron come around the corner of the house, a red gasoline can in one hand. He doesn't look at me as he moves up to the pile and drenches it in flammable liquid.
They're going to burn my stuff.
I can only pray they're not going to burn me, too.
“Why are you doing this?” I whisper, but I've asked that question a hundred times, and I've never gotten an answer. Victor just laughs softly and releases me. I stumble away from him as Oscar, Callum, and Hael join Aaron in the yard.
It's Vic, though, who pulls a lighter from his pocket and approaches the pile.
I don't have a lot in life, barely anything, and what I do have, I've worked hard for. I can see my new heels for the winter formal in that pile, the ones I worked two shitty jobs for. They're propped up next to a shoebox full of old pictures, pictures of a dad I didn’t get to keep, of me and Pen as babies, of a life that didn't suck quite so bad as this one does.