Victor continues on toward the garage door and out into the watercolor purple of early evening.
I step out of the office, adjusting the baggy sweatpants. The hair on the back of my neck prickles, alerting me to the fact that four very different, very hungry male gazes have just landed on me. Down, boys, I think, taking out another pack of smokes that Vic gave me and lighting one up. Sure, sure, it’s a filthy, dirty habit.
Did you think there was anything clean about my story?
“Well, now, that was unexpected,” Hael murmurs, running his tongue slowly across his lower lip. His expression—starved and wild all at once—doesn’t surprise me. Oscar’s, on the other hand, does. There’s the briefest flicker of desperation before Oscar clamps down on it and turns away.
“Get ready. We leave in fifteen.” He takes off after Vic as I turn to Aaron, Hael, and Cal with a smile.
“Wish I knew where we were going,” I grumble, but then I have to turn away again and clamp a hand over my mouth. Did Victor just … did he just tell me to play with his boys?! I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder, even though I can already tell by the gentleness of the touch that it’s Aaron. That strange flicker takes over me again, like lightning during a summer storm. This time though, I know what it is: happiness.
“Cute that he thinks I need his fucking permission,” Aaron growls, sliding his hands up and down my arms before letting them settle on my shoulders. He squeezes me with strong fingers, working out some of my worst knots. “But that’s what he just did, right? Give us his dark and unwanted blessing?”
“Pretty sure he did,” I say, but I’m still struggling to believe it.
“Hey Bernie,” Callum calls out, and I glance over my shoulder, past Aaron and over to where he’s standing with a handful of peanuts in his palm. He holds the plastic bag with the rest in his other hand. “Have you ever heard the term gang bang?”
“Fuck you, Cal,” I blurt, dancing away from Aaron and then flicking my cigarette at him, as if I’m just too fucking cool for school. Only the devil knows that I’m still a teenage girl inside the dark recesses of my heart. I flip Callum off with both hands, but he just laughs at me as Hael snorts.
“Yo, I was going to make that joke!” he says, snapping his fingers. “Motherfucker.”
“Should’ve moved on it quicker,” Callum purrs in that husky voice of his. He sidles past me, turning in a half-circle and walking backward. “Talk to your husband about it maybe?” he asks, and then he spins around and starts laughing again.
I flip him off again, but Hael just howls and howls.
“Oh, Bernie, can you only imagine? Bet when you agreed to be our girl, you didn’t think you’d have to—”
I put my fingers in my ears to drown him out as I start walking out of the garage.
“Can’t hear you!” I call, until he’s suddenly right there and scooping me into his arms. Hael Harbin carries me over to the blacked-out Escalade as I scream, and then tosses me inside like I weigh nothing at all.
That’s not the first or only scream we hear that night.
But it’s certainly the least violent.
“What’s the plan?” I ask as Callum hands me a brand-new skeleton mask and a pair of black latex gloves. The mask is much nicer than the one I wore when I stood over Neil’s open grave. It’s made of wood, and very pretty. It reminds me of the face paint the boys wore on Halloween.
Cal holds his over his face, blue eyes watching me from the eyeholes. I shiver and he drops it back to his lap with a laugh.
“Time to find out if Mitch is serious about all this,” Vic murmurs from the front seat, rubbing his chin the way he always does when he’s thinking.
“As if killing one of our crew isn’t serious?” I ask, and Victor looks back over his shoulder at me. He gives one of his signature anti-smiles.
“Mm. Quid pro quo, I guess. We killed Danny, so they killed one of our boys. That makes us even, and I won’t play at that game. A bunch of fucking copycats aren’t going to roll into my turf and disrespect me.”
“What about Ivy Hightower?” Aaron asks from the driver’s seat, and it’s Oscar who replies from behind me.
“Hard to say. I don’t think the Charter Crew would kill Danny’s girlfriend, and someone who was a loyal gossip for them. Likely, Bernadette is right about her stepfather being the killer. The part I’m having trouble figuring out is why Ivy’s death happened the same night our boys went missing. We now know for a fact that it was the Charter Crew who took them. We also know that Kali was fucking Neil. I just need more time to figure out how and why they’re connected.”
“If we factor in my ideas about Kali and David, then I think we’re really getting somewhere,” I add. I don’t even bother to turn around to see Oscar’s reaction. I can feel it. “Because if Kali was willing to seek out a guy I hooked up with at a party, then why not see what’s up with my stepdad, too?”
Oscar makes a sound of annoyance as Callum grins at me.
“Far-reaching, Bernadette. You like to make jumps of logic; I prefer facts.” Oscar’s voice is ice-cold, but I ignore him. He, on the other hand, is very likely staring at the back of my neck; I can feel his gaze like a blast of freezing wind against my nape.
“Alright, kids,” Hael says on the tail-end of a yawn. “Calm your tits. One problem at a time, okay?” He stretches his arms above his head and his hoodie rides up a bit in the front, showing off that flat belly of his. I wet my lips. I’m a little nervous for our excursion, but on the inside, I’m freaking out like a little girl.
I’ve been fantasizing about the Havoc Boys for years. And now, I get to explore every nook and cranny, every dark crevice of their souls. Well, that is, for the boys who actually have souls. I’m not entirely certain that Oscar does.
“Hey Bernie,” Aaron says after a moment of silence. Music trickles softly from the speakers, but nobody’s paying any attention to it. “Do you want to go to the winter formal with me?”
The question comes out of left field, and my head snaps up, lips parting in surprise.
“The winter formal?” I ask, because in all the excitement of joining Havoc I’d totally forgotten that we were all seniors in high school. Jesus. “You want to go to that?”
“We can’t skip Snow Day,” Hael says with a bemused chuckle. “It’s iconic, and this is our last year. Besides, this is a beautiful opportunity to remind every idiot in that fucking school that those hallways belong to us.”
“These fucking streets belong to us,” Victor snorts, pulling on his mask. He looks back at us, and I shiver at the sight of his beautiful face behind the monstrous beauty of the skeleton visage. “But you’re right: it never hurts to remind the populace.”
“So will you?” Aaron asks, looking up and finding my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Go with me, that is?”
My heart flutters and sparkles which is just stupid as hell because I’m not a fluttery or sparkly sort of person. More like a cactus. With big, motherfucking spikes.
“As long as Callum gives me a few dance lessons before then,” I say with a nervous laugh. Both Hael and Vic pick up on it and give me a matching set of looks. I think what I have with Aaron makes them all nervous. It’s hard to match up to first love, isn’t it?
“Deal,” Cal whispers huskily against my ear. This time, he isn’t shy when he leans forward and captures my hand in his, running his tongue up the side of my throat. I shiver as he laughs and Hael leans over to smack him with his mask.
“Stay focused, dipshit, we’re almost there,” Hael says, putting his own mask on. Aaron does the same, and when I look back, I see that Oscar’s face is already covered. He isn’t wearing his glasses either, but I see a glasses case sitting on the seat beside him along with a compact mirror and a plastic contact lens case.
I wonder why he doesn’t wear contacts more often, but then … the glasses are so fucking hot.
I bite my lip and yank my own mask on over my face.
“Remind me what we’re doing,” I say as I look out the window, trying to get a gather on what neighborhood we’re actually in. Some no-man’s land between Prescott and a neighborhood known as the Whiteaker, if I had to hazard a guess. I know every inch of South Prescott, but the boundaries are a little blurry.
“Like I said,” Victor tells me, reaching down to turn up the music. “A reminder never hurts.” He hits the button for the sunroof and then adjusts himself so that he’s crouching in his seat. “Alright, boys, let’s show the Charter Crew that we’re not playing games. Don’t shoot until I give the word, and try not to kill anyone. We already have cops sniffing around our fucking school.” Vic pauses and glances back at us, giving Cal a meaningful look. It’s impactful, even with the mask in place. “Except you, Cal. You know what you need to do.”
Cal and Hael roll their windows down on either side of me while Aaron and Vic do the same in the front.
“Safeties off,” Vic calls out as the Escalade slows, and I look out the window to see a group of people standing around in the front yard of an artsy house. Looks like we’ve just officially crossed over into the Whit, a neighborhood built by artists, musicians, and drugs. It used to be suicide to walk around here in the middle of the night, but the place has had its character ramrodded by uptight millennials seeking cheap homes.
Still, the house we’re driving by is painted with a politically charged mural of men in camo dragging protestors with signs into unmarked vans. I shiver. There are sofas in the front yard and a giant statue welded out of twisted metal branches.
Not sure whose house this is, but I can very clearly see Mitch Charter, his sister Billie, and the remaining Ensbrook brothers in the crowd.
Callum stands up on the seat, the upper half of his body sticking out of the sunroof, and cups his hands around his mouth. He lets out a chilling howl as Victor and Hael lean out their own windows and Oscar and I join Cal by standing up and looking out of the sunroof.