Home > Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1)(7)

Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1)(7)
Author: C.M. Stunich

“Tonight, we'll meet at my place,” Vic begins, sitting up straight, and giving a passing boy a look that's all sorts of cold hell. The kid stumbles over his own feet, looking sheepish, and empties his pocket into Victor's hand. It's just a big baggy of weed, but I don't see any money exchange hands. Instead, Vic nods and the student scurries off like a mouse. I hope I don't look like that, like some sort of frightened rodent looking to pay the dog to scare off the cat. “Eight sharp. Bring shit to stay the night. The old man's off to poker night; we'll have the place to ourselves.”

“Stay the night?” I ask, feeling my brow go up. Vic frowns and looks at me with that scary ass face of his. My palms go up in a placating gesture. “I'm not complaining, just asking.”

“We have my mother's breakfast thing on Saturday, so get ready to gussy yourself up: you're going.” Vic rolls toward me, putting his palm on the step on my right side, and sliding his big body between my legs. He smirks and puts his mouth up against mine, brushing across it until his lips are at my ear. “And you will impress her. I want her fully convinced we're in love, fucking like rabbits, and destined for forever. You hear me?”

Victor undulates his body, so that his hips rub against my groin, making me groan. It feels so damn good, even with the whole school looking at us the way they are. What breakfast thing? I think, but my lips form words without my brain’s permission.

“I hear you,” I tell him, and he grins, rolling back over and kicking Hael's tray down the steps. Trash goes everywhere, and a girl in a short white dress pauses to pick it all up, her eyes never straying higher than the top of Hael's boot.

Weird.

“We'll need a dress to cover her tattoos,” Victor muses as Oscar writes everything down, inked fingers moving quickly as they slide the tip of his stylus against the screen. “My mom hates tattoos. Figure out how to cover up the pink in her hair, too. I don’t want it dyed.”

“Yes, sir,” Oscar purrs, the edge of his lip quirking up in a smirk. He adjusts his glasses, eyes flashing as he glances my way. I pretend not to notice. “Have you thought much about the ring?”

“I have my grandmother's band, that'll do.” Victor's eyes scan the crowd before turning back to me. “Make sure everybody knows she's ours. I pity the guy who misses that memo.” He rises to his feet and takes off, just before the bell rings.

“See you tonight,” Cal whispers, sweeping past me like a shadow. Oscar follows him, still jotting notes, with Hael on his heels. Aaron is the last to go.

“I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into,” he says, waiting for me to stand up. He escorts me to class by following three steps behind, and then disappears. I don't know where he goes, but he definitely doesn't go to class.

There's nobody home when I get back from school, letting myself in the back door and packing my sleeping bag, pillow, and some clothes. Mom is gone, and so is the Thing. I'm glad he's not here, and I can't wait for him to see the evil I've unleashed. Fortunately, Heather is off to a sleepover at a well-vetted friend’s house, so for tonight at least, I can leave without worrying about her.

I feel much safer biking the sixteen blocks to Victor's house today, like the whole city knows I belong to Havoc. And you don't mess with Havoc, unless you're willing to pay.

I'm going to pay handsomely with my body, but I don't care. There's nothing I want more than vengeance, and nothing that turns me on like danger.

When I arrive, the boys are in the front yard, smoking and drinking. Hael offers me a beer right off the bat, and I take it, finding that my fingers tingle when we touch. He smirks, like he knows exactly what I'm going through, and then gestures at my sleeping bag.

“It's adorable,” Vic says, ashing his cigarette, “but you won't need it. You're sleeping in my bed tonight.” He leans back in his chair, watching me. I half expect him to order me onto his lap again, but I think this time he's more interested in seeing what I'll do on my own.

I sit down in the center of the group, right on the dead grass, the yellow-brown strands digging into my thighs as I lean back in my red and black plaid jumper, my ratty combat boots crossed at the ankles. They all watch me, like they did the other day when I walked around the back of the school and saw them hanging out next to Hael's car.

Predators.

That's what they look like, like predators.

The thing is, I'm nobody's fucking prey.

Maybe they're more like lions looking for a lioness to mount.

I smile slightly.

I know what I agreed to here. The thing is, I want it. I want them. I always have, ever since we met in elementary school and things were good. Well, maybe neutral. Then bad. And now … they're whatever they are. But I always wanted to belong; I craved it.

“Do you have condoms?” I ask, and Vic snorts.

“You have a one-track mind, Bernadette,” he says, sighing and looking up at the sky with those dark eyes of his. I think they're actually brown, but they're so shadowed and full of pain that they look black. The eyes of a bully. I glance away and pick at the grass with one hand, holding my beer in the other.

“Not particularly. I just know what you want from me. And like you said, a deal's a deal.”

Victor throws his head back in a roaring laugh, and the other guys chuckle along with him, all of them except for Aaron who glares at me with eyes the color of the sun-dappled oak leaves behind his head.

“Really, Bernadette, it doesn't have to be all bad. I'm a skilled lover. The rest of the guys are … adequate.” Victor flashes a sharp, dangerous sort of grin. He leans forward in his plastic lawn chair, like it's some sort of throne. The way he sits in it, it could be. He exudes confidence, like he owns the damn world. Pretty lofty for a guy who lives in one of the worst parts of town with an unemployed drunk for a father. But Vic Channing, he could have whatever he wants in life—even if he has to take it by force. “And we both know you're not a virgin, so what does it matter?” Vic tilts his head to one side, that shadow-purple hair of his sliding across his forehead. “We have plenty of time for sex, so don't worry about it. When I want it, I'll let you know, and you can service me then.” He smiles in a way that gets under my skin, makes my black-painted nails curl into the grass so hard they're filled with dirt.

“Thought you didn't use condoms anyway?” Hael asks, taking two puffs on the blunt and passing it over to Oscar. He waves it away, and Callum takes it instead.

Victor smirks.

“I don't.”

My mouth drops open, but he cuts me off with a look. My chest is heaving, but I don't look away. A stare is a challenge I can take on, one that he can't exactly punish me for. I'm not doing anything that goes against the bargain we made.

“So what's the deal with this brunch thing exactly?” I ask, feeling them all start to stare at me again. It's unnerving. Like, maybe I could fight off Oscar or Callum or something, but all five of them? Including Vic and Hael? They could do whatever they wanted to me, and I couldn't stop them.

Hell, they did it before, didn't they? And they were much smaller then, back in tenth grade. They're all huge now, properly filled out. Men instead of boys.

I exhale and release my grip on the clump of grass.

“Some bullshit upper crust, society type garbage,” Hael snorts as Vic takes a drag on the joint and passes it over to Aaron. “Doesn't make much sense to me.”

“Heh. You are not fucking invited, asshole.” Victor turns to look at me, his eyes half-lidded from the weed, his beer half-empty, and a fresh cigarette in his hand. “You'd ruin any chance of me getting ahold of my inheritance.” He stares at me some more, and I can feel it, this tension between us, hot and sticky, and desperate to be snapped. At least when he orders me into his bed tonight, I'll want to be there. “It's a luncheon with my egg donor and her bitch friends.” Vic reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black velvet box, tossing it onto the grass beside me. My brows go up as I grab it and crack the lid.

“What the fuck is this?” I ask, staring at the diamond engagement ring.

“Your wedding ring,” he says, and like, all of that anger comes roaring back again. Sex is one thing, but I did not agree to this shit. My eyes narrow, but Vic just keeps staring at me like he doesn't notice. “You'll come to the luncheon as my fiancée, please my mom, and marry me, so we can collect my inheritance.”

“You've got to be freaking kidding me,” I snort, but he frowns.

“Not even close. You're not going to pitch a fit about this, are you? Because it's blood in, blood out in Havoc. Do you have a problem being my wife?”

“I …” I start to answer honestly, but I don't want Victor to know how much this bothers me. The sex is one thing, but marriage? I don't want to be legally bound to this prick-hole. “Yeah, whatever. Do I get any of the money?” I look him straight in the face, and he raises a brow, like I've surprised him.

“We'll split the cut, sure, we always do. We're fucking family.” Victor throws his feet up onto the small green plastic table in front of his chair and smirks at me. “Welcome to the family, Bernadette.”

The boys order pizza and then gather in the living room to smoke more pot and watch South Park. The house is a lot better on the inside than the outside. I expected burn marks on the tables from meth spoons, holes in the walls from angry punches, and the stink of garbage. But it's not like that at all. Instead, there's a candle burning on the table, no sign of trash or dirty clothes on the floor, and humble but serviceable furniture.

Hael pulls me onto his lap, and I find that we have a completely different chemistry than I do with Vic. With Vic, it's like … a hot summer day when you're soaked in sweat and all you want is water and cool, silken sheets. That's Victor. Hael is … like a fireworks explosion waiting to happen. Dangerous, unpredictable, but damn pretty to look at.

   
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