“You talk shit about Havoc, you pay the price.” I stand up straight, and fix my sweatshirt sleeve, letting my gaze travel around the rest of the room before I take my seat.
Kali's still sitting there, holding her bleeding nose and staring at me. But behind that lick of fear in her eyes, there's rage. She isn't done with me. Good. Because I'm not done with her either.
When Mr. Darkwood comes in, Kali asks for the hall pass to clean up her bloody nose, and I sit down to work on my poem.
Confucius says dig two graves before embarking on a journey of revenge.
But what if that revenge is the only thing keeping you alive?
And what if the people you're seeking revenge on deserve it?
If Batman had just killed the Joker from the get-go, how many more people would still be alive?
Sometimes the bad guys have to die, so if I have to dig two graves, so be it. Better than digging three.
I title the poem Heather and turn it in, heading for my next class when the bell rings and pausing in the restroom just long enough to wash the blood from my knuckles.
“I would've paid to see her face when you hauled off and punched her,” Callum says with a chuckle, smoking a cigarette and alternating drags with sips of his Pepsi. His blue eyes scan the cafeteria, looking for trouble. “I bet it was goddamn gold.”
“She's not afraid enough,” I reply, staring out across the room. The first few weeks I hung out with Havoc, it was like they were gods. But now, with this bullshit between the boys and the Ensbrook-Charter brothers, I can feel a shift. People are waiting, watching. This school is a den of lions, and if we don't deliver a little fresh meat, that reputation is all but done for.
Victor doesn't seem to care, scribbling diligently on some homework he missed during our suspension. I grit my teeth, and ignore him, focusing on Oscar as he continues to make notes on his iPad.
“You asked me who I wanted to hit next? I want Kali.” Oscar pauses briefly to look up at me, adjusts his glasses, and then refocuses his attention on the screen.
“Excellent. Let's clear up this little mess at Prescott, shall we? I imagine we can creatively incorporate Kali into the whole thing, and wrap this up into a neat, little bow.”
“Halloween night,” Vic says absently, still scribbling answers down on a worksheet. “We'll deal with them all then. Horrible things happen on Halloween.” He stands up suddenly and tucks his pencil into the pocket of his dark blue jeans. “Oscar, figure out where all the best parties are gonna be. Aaron, take Bernadette home after detention. Callum, Hael, you'll stick with me and we'll track their habits.”
“Take me home?” I echo, turning to look at him. “I'm supposed to be a part of this group, aren't I? I want in on this.”
Vic looks back at me with a raised brow.
“According to you, you're just a fuck-buddy for us to use as we please. Why don't you stick with that role since it seems to interest you more?”
My mouth drops open as he takes off through the cafeteria, and I have to resist the urge to run after him. Not only would that give him the false impression that I give a crap about what he has to say, but it would only damage Havoc's reputation even further for us to reveal conflict in public.
“Are we really Havoc anymore with Bernadette here?” Callum muses, reaching up to ruffle at his blond hair under his hood. “More like Havoc B. Bhavoc. Covahb. There really isn't a great configuration to add a B in, is there?”
“Shut up, Cal,” Aaron growls on the end of a sigh. “Leave it alone.” I glance his way and meet those pretty green-gold eyes of his. We haven’t spoken since our little squabble yesterday, but I need to know more about the whole Kali thing. Understanding why he betrayed me, why they all betrayed me, that's important. “I'll pick you up out front before I get the girls, but don't take too long. I don't like the idea of them waiting for me.”
“Don't worry about it,” Hael interjects, and I glance over to find him watching me. “I'll take her home.”
“But Vic—” Aaron starts, and Oscar finally lifts his attention up from his screen.
“Forget about Victor. I'll tell him it was my idea.” Hael flashes a grin and rises to his feet.
Oscar goes back to dicking around with his iPad, and I push up from the table just as the bell rings. Clearly, Hael has an idea in his head, one that I'm hoping matches up the idea in mine.
Trouble.
We're both thinking of starting trouble.
After class gets out, I find Hael behind the school, sitting half in his car and smoking a joint. Cigarette smoke seems to permeate everything, gets stuck in fabric and hair and furniture, but marijuana smoke dissipates better, stinking the place up for a brief while and then disappearing like it was never there.
He watches me as I move across the parking lot to stand beside him, the look in his eyes confirming that we have the same idea in mind.
“You can go back and perform your duties for Hael.”
Victor invited me to do this. It's all on him.
“Thanks for offering me a ride,” I say, leaning on the roof of his pretty car, fully aware that the move puts my inked midsection right in his face. On the outside, I'm all bravado and sex and cunning. Nobody has to know that I'm a little bit afraid, that sex has always been this double-edged sword for me, wielded as a weapon, a threat, a promise. I can tell myself all I want that it doesn't mean anything.
And yet it does.
If I fuck Hael today, it'll mean a whole lot of somethings.
I'm taking control of my sexuality, I tell myself, but even then, when Hael lifts up a hand and places it on the curve of my waist, my nerves rankle a bit. But then he slides his palm down my skin, and I shiver. His hands are soft as fucking silk.
“Tell me how a mechanic has such soft goddamn hands,” I murmur as he curls his fingers through one of the belt loops on my jeans and tugs me forward, knocking me into his lap. Hael's coconut smell drifts around me, mixing with the skunk-y hint of weed, and his lips curve into a sharp smile.
“Motor oil,” he says, and I cock a brow. “Gotta get it off somehow. If you start with coconut oil, that'll take off the majority. But there's always some stubborn stickiness. Little bit of dish soap, and a sugar scrub with a pumice stone knocks off the rest.” Ah, so that explains the coconut smell then … Hael reaches up a hand to brush some pink-tinged hair back, sliding a single fingertip along my collarbone. “Can't be touching pretty girls like you with oil-covered hands.”
“Right.” A snort escapes me, but I don't move, letting him curl an inked arm around my waist and tug me just a bit closer. “So, I know why I'm out here. Why are you?”
“What do you mean?” Hael asks, tossing the butt of his joint to the ground and crushing it out with his boot. His words are innocent enough, but there's a devilish curve to his mouth that says he knows otherwise. “Giving you a ride home is hardly a hardship. Are you sure you don't want to sit in my lap on the way?”
“Vic is your best friend,” I say, and Hael gives me a weird look.
“So?” he says, acting all innocent as fuck when we both know there's an underlying reason for us both being out here. “What does any of this have to do with Vic? I mean, other than you trying to piss him off by screwing me. Won't work, you know. There's a reason we wanted a Havoc Girl, after all.”
My mouth purses into a thin line.
“Yeah?” I quip, my voice turning hard. “And what, exactly, was that reason?”
Hael snorts a laugh and scoots back in the seat, dragging me along with him. He's already got the damn thing pushed back as far as it'll go, leaving me with barely enough room to breathe between his body and the steering wheel when he closes the door on us.
“Ask Victor, you two are so damn close,” Hael says, eyes sparkling as he puts one hand on either of my hips. “I'll admit something. I just had a real bad break-up, and I'm horny as fuck. My motivation is to let Brittany know that I'm banging a girl twice as hot as she is.” He shrugs his shoulders and gives me a look. There's something that doesn't quite ring true about his statement, but what does it matter?
“Brittany, huh?” I say, putting my hands on his shoulders. He's wearing a black wifebeater, so his tattooed skin is bare, scorching beneath my palms. “She the cheerleader from Fuller High?”
“Yep.” Hael slides his hands up my waist and under my crop-top sweater, pushing it up and out of his way. I'm aware we're sitting just behind the school, in a place that anyone could stumble on us, but I don't really care. I mean, that's sort of the point of all this, isn't it? I'm a Havoc Girl. Havoc rules this school. God help anyone that peeps in on us. Anyone that isn't Vic …
Because I want him to see.
He challenged me, so here I am. Here I fucking am.
Hael tosses my sweater aside and then runs his hands over the lacey cups of my bra. It's the one that Vic gave me in the bag of clothes the other day, and as much as I hate to admit it, it fits a million times better than the ones I was wearing before.
“Damn, girl,” Hael growls, running his thumbs over the pert points of my nipples. Hard to believe this is the same kid who held my hand through a whole night in the homeless shelter all those years ago.
I let my head fall back and try to remember how to breathe. My heart is racing so fast I feel dizzy, and my pulse is thundering so loud in my head I can hardly hear the radio when Hael leans forward to turn it on. I recognize the song Fire Up The Night by New Medicine.
Hael's hands are pure fire as he skims them over my aching skin, working my nipples through the lace with his thumbs. Unlike Vic, Hael Harbin is in complete control of himself. I can feel his confidence when he slips the lace over my breasts and then palms the full mounds with a groan.
“Damn, Blackbird, you've got some nice tits,” he grinds out, leaning forward and giving me this wicked look before flicking his hot tongue out to taste my nipple. My back arches automatically, offering my breast to his hungry mouth as he sucks greedily and then gently bites the hardened peak. A gasp slips out of me, and I find myself curling my fingers in his hair to gain some semblance of control.