Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #3)(27)

A man can only be so strong, even one who’s as stubborn as this asshole right here.

Bernadette is my blood and my breath and my bone.

The Havoc Boys are my brothers.

Something will have to give and, like any true leader can tell you, sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do, make decisions you don’t want to make. Sometimes you have to admit you were wrong and readjust the way you look at the world. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar; beware the silver-tongued serpent.

Bernie says nothing as I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. If I could keep her all to myself, I would. In my heart, I know she is mine and mine alone, but I’m also sure that neither of us will be happy if we let our love and obsession with one another drive away the rest of Havoc.

Blood in, blood out.

That statement holds true, even if it’s just me bleeding on the fucking inside.

“We’ll talk about it when I damn well say it’s time,” I snarl out, cracking my knuckles. Aaron scowls at me, but he can make faces all he wants. Hael rolls his eyes and Callum smiles. Oscar … he simply turns away and heads for a pair of French doors that lead to the deck. Even though it’s just started raining, he walks outside, barefoot and wearing pajamas, and closes the doors behind him.

“I’m going to fucking break him,” Bernie whispers, a promise in her words. I do my best not to smile. Even though I have the urge to murder my friends when I see them balls-deep in my girl … it’s kind of funny at the same time. Oscar deserves Bernadette’s wrath. Let’s see if she’ll have any better luck opening him up than the rest of us did.

I wish her the best with that.

‘Cause, you know, she’s definitely going to need all the help she can get.





Bernadette Blackbird





The little girl, Alyssa, tells us her last name is Hart, but that she doesn’t know where she lives because her mom moves around all the time. The last place she remembers living is in a motel off the freeway.

That could be any motel, on any freeway, in any state.

She’s cute, dark-haired and dark-eyed, but suspicious as fuck. I don’t blame her; there’s a look in her gaze that says she’s been betrayed before by people who promised to help. I know that look because it’s the same one that I have, even now, even after joining Havoc. I will never trust anyone but my boys again.

“What do we do with her?” I ask as we stand outside on the deck in the morning, icy wind whipping around us. It’s only Wednesday, and we have until Sunday to figure out how to proceed with the Vincents, but this little girl … is someone out there missing her? “We can’t leave her here.”

“We can’t take her back with us either,” Victor warns, and that’s where I hear it: the cold, cruelness of a leader. Taking Alyssa back is what I want to do. She can just live with us, right? I’d take care of her. But it’s too goddamn dangerous, too risky. If she is officially missing and we’re caught with her, we’re in big trouble. Even if she’s somehow not missed by anyone in particular, one phone call from the wrong person and we might have to deal with the authorities. Risking Heather, Kara, and Ashley for a stranger is something we can’t do.

“Let’s put her with the Peters,” Oscar says, leaning his elbows on the wood railing of the deck. I don’t miss the way the other four boys still in the early afternoon light, like he’s said something disturbingly out of the ordinary. To his credit, Oscar barely stirs. He remains where he is, dressed in a suit and tie, like he usually is. Guess he isn’t planning on hitting the beach today.

To be fair, the weather is tumultuous and wild, the beach windswept and besieged by waves. I’ve already told the girls that if they want to play in the sand, it has to be near the deck of the house. That’s November on the Oregon coast for you.

“Good idea,” Vic says, as if the other guys aren’t still staring at Oscar like he’s nuts. “We’ll have Leigh place Alyssa with the Peters. Excellent. Next item on the agenda: what do we want to do with the Vincents in the long-run?” Victor turns to me, and I shiver when his dark eyes pass over me. I know what he thinks when he looks at me because it’s the same twisted intensity inside my own chest. That feeling, it writhes like a snake with smooth scales and a wicked tongue. I hop up on the railing next to Oscar and watch him stiffen up as he pretends I don’t exist.

“What was your original plan?” I ask, looking at each boy in turn. Aaron is staring back at me like his heart is breaking a little everyday he doesn’t touch me. My fingers tighten on the railing as I resist the urge to hop down and curl up in his strong arms. I already miss his smell. Probably why I ended up grabbing one of his hoodies to wear out here in the crazy weather. “I mean, before they started dropping news about Ophelia. What were you guys going to do?”

“Take their Ferrari Spider out for one, last test drive before we dismantle it and sell off the parts,” Hael says with a dreamy sigh, leaning his head back and holding out his tongue to taste the mist drizzling down from the gray sky. “As a mechanic and car enthusiast, I have to say, you guys make me do things that haunt my nightmares.”

“Shut up, Hael,” Oscar snaps, even testier than usual. Jesus. I look at him with a healthy dollop of skepticism, but he ignores me. Dickhead. I lied. He is not the master of control; Victor is. When Oscar is uncomfortable, his control starts to splinter. Shit, I have one of those splinters jabbed into my heart and bleeding me dry. Hael flips Oscar off, but he ignores him. “Leigh is obsessed with image and wealth; we’re going to take away everything she has and force her into poverty, where she belongs.” Oscar’s glasses are specked with droplets of mist which, really, is the dirtiest I’ve ever seen them.