Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,97
a beat when he leans over and sets my entire life on fire, the flames catching and licking across the pile in seconds. I just slide to the floor and sit there on my knees watching, waiting, wondering.
Why? Why me?
All I ever wanted was to be one of them.
All I ever wanted was to belong.
But that need, that desire, like so many others, is and will always be a worthless pipe dream; the taste of it is bitter ash on my tongue.
I must fall asleep in the van because I don't remember much between climbing into the car and waking up in Aaron's bed. His familiar smell surrounds me, like rose and sandalwood, and I have to fight back the wave of strong memories.
I lost my virginity in this bed.
Aaron said he loved me in this bed.
I frown and shove the covers off, climbing out of the bed and swiping my hands over my face. My phone is lying on the nightstand, the screen still off, whatever angry words my mother might want to say hidden within.
I leave it there as I stand up and grab my backpack from the floor near the door, pulling out my change of clothes before I creep down the hall to check on Heather. She's passed out, curled up on an air mattress that just barely fits between Kara's and Ashley's beds.
A sigh of relief escapes me as I lean my shoulder against the doorjamb and watch the three of them sleeping. The first real smile I've given in weeks takes over my mouth, and I feel this unsettling sense of contentment.
I could live a life like this, getting up early in a house that's free of hate, showering, making breakfast for the girls … But I don't let myself hope for it. Hopes, wants, dreams, they can all be destroyed in the span of a single exhale. A ragged inhale. A surprised gasp.
Shaking my head, I push away from the wall and head for the bathroom. It must be early because I don't hear anyone else moving around in the house. Good. I smell like a campfire, and as much as I'm glad that Principal Vaughn got his last night, I also don't need a scented reminder of what happened.
The bathroom is free, thankfully, so I step in and lock it, stripping down and climbing in the scalding warmth of the shower. As I let the heat wash over me, I pretend like I'm scrubbing away all the bad memories, like soap and water can really heal an injured soul.
The sound of the door opening snaps me out of my daze, and I freeze. Did someone pick the lock? Callum could pretty easily if he wanted. Hell, what am I saying? Any of the Havoc Boys could.
Peeling back the curtain, I find Aaron yawning, his dick in his hand as he takes a piss.
“What are you doing in here?” I snap, and he jumps, missing his target, so to speak, and cursing violently under his breath. “Did you pick the lock?”
“No, fuck, no,” he grumbles, adjusting his aim as I stand there glaring, my anxious heartbeat shifting into a different rhythm, one that doesn't exactly add up to a guy taking a piss in front of me. But even though I'm naked and Aaron somehow breezed through the locked door, I'm not afraid of him. He wouldn't hurt me, I think automatically, but then my cynical mind starts to laugh when I remember.
Right.
He already did.
But … for what reason?
“I barely managed to keep the girls from ending up in foster care.”
“I'm waiting,” I say as he shakes off his cock and tucks it away, zipping his pants up and snatching a container of antiseptic wipes to clean up the mess. Wow. A seventeen-year-old guy covered in tattoos scrubbing up stray droplets of pee to keep a toilet clean? Unheard of. He even puts the toilet seat down when he's done, and I can't help but be thoroughly impressed.
“The lock on this door is broken. I've been meaning to fix it, but … life.” Aaron glances over at me, some of his wavy chestnut hair falling into his eyes. He flicks it away with inked fingers. “And I'm sorry. It's early, I'm tired. The girls take forever in the shower in the mornings, so we've worked out a system where I can sneak in and pee if I have to.” He scrubs a hand over his face.