Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #3)(75)

I pause then, the coffee mug held tight between my tattooed hands. My nails are matte black right now, with coffin tips. I got one of Stacy Langford’s girls to do them on Friday before I … met Cal at his studio. Before he fucked me into the old warehouse floors with his lean dancer’s body, his muscles sweaty beneath my hands, his scars rough but intriguing.

Jesus.

I am not following this Do Not Soak Your Panties rule very well.

“He told you …” I start, and then I set my mug down and just start laughing. Oh, Neil, you fucker. One last hurrah from the grave, huh?

He just couldn’t die in peace, could he? Swear to god, I feel his evil spirit clinging to my shoulders and digging obsidian-tipped claws into my skin. “You will never be free of me, Bernadette; I will haunt you until the day you die like a dog in the gutter.”

For the same reason that Neil would not kill himself with the knife Aaron gave him, he also just couldn’t transition into the depths of hell without leaving a few choice nuggets of bullshit behind for me to deal with.

“What a delusional nut,” I murmur when I finally get control of myself. This time, I don’t look at Sara, staring instead at a brown and cream Siamese cat that’s sitting nearby and staring at us. The cat looks pissed to be honest, tail flicking violently. It reminds me of Oscar. Another sip of coffee. “I plead not guilty to all charges.”

“Bernadette, I’m trying to help here,” Sara says as I glance back at her. She’s wearing this very pale pink lip gloss that looks like it belongs in the nineties. “I know you didn’t hurt your stepfather, but you’re not a lone wolf, now are you?”

I let out a little howl and grin.

“Cry 'Havoc!,'” I murmur, realizing that she must’ve heard the howling in the halls during the last week. I’ve started a trend. Look at me go. “Is that what you’re suggesting? That my husband or one of my boyfriends might’ve had something to do with Neil’s disappearance?”

“One of your boyfriends?” Sara asks, like the terminology is confusing her. I should’ve said, one of my boyfriends or Oscar Montauk because he still doesn’t act like he wants anything to do with me outside of strict business transactions. “Boy … friends. Got it. Male friends.”

“No, no, like boys you have sex with and spend time with and—if you’re into this kind of thing—hope to make babies for at some point.” I finish my coffee and pass the mug back. I know I’m being a snarky, little shit, but I can’t help it. I don’t have a mom to trade verbal quips with, no girlfriends. It’s fun, hanging out with another woman once in a while. The energy’s different. “Anyway, they didn’t do anything; they wouldn’t.”

Sara sighs and taps her French manicured nails on the counter. They’re cut short, but they’re clearly recently done.

“Look, I’m going to cut right to the chase here,” Sara starts, and the shift in her tone causes me to freeze up. She’s staring right at me, her blue eyes much lighter than Callum’s, almost too pale for my liking. “I’m not saying you didn’t have reason to want Neil hurt or dead. I’m telling you that I believe you, Bernadette. I wasn’t your stepfather’s partner for long, but there were things that he did that just made me wonder if he was in law enforcement for the right reasons.”

“But?” I suggest. “Because I hear a but coming for sure.”

“But there is no excuse for vigilante justice in society. If you did something to Neil, you have to tell me now. We can make a deal with the DA in exchange for information on your lovers.” I’m just sitting there flabbergasted as fuck that this woman has as much backbone as she does. Even though she’s terrifying me slightly, I start to develop some newfound respect for her. Also, she just jumped in headfirst and started calling the Havoc Boys my lovers. Kudos. “You are not the sum of your mistakes, Bernadette, but the exponential increase of your future.” Okay, that one definitely belongs on the side of a mug with some glitter.

“I see that you’re trying to help me,” I tell her, getting real for the first time since I walked in here. It’s hard for me not to harden up against a potential threat. That’s the reaction that’s saved my life many times, protected me from rape and molestation and pain. It’s what I do now, to keep me and the boys safe. “But I don’t need your sympathy or your pity. My boys are small-time pot dealers and total assholes. That’s it. We’re in high school; get over yourself.” I stand up from the stool and head for the door.

I expect Sara to call out and ask me to come back.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she waits until I’ve walked down the block and climbed into Hael’s Camaro to start tailing us.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“What happened?” Cal asks, leaning between the two front seats. The way his proximity affects me has completely changed. When Callum moves, it’s as if he vibrates the very molecules in the air around me. My skin ripples with the need to feel his touch, and I exhale.

“Neil told her before he died that if something were to happen to him, then I did it.”

Hael curses under his breath at my statement, raking his fingers through his red hair.

“Yeah, well, that was one of our concerns originally, about killing him. Oscar said it would be different this time.” Hael glances my way, raising his brows. “Victor said it would be. I guess we just have to trust that they know what they’re doing?” He smiles at me, but the expression isn’t entirely mirthful. “If we get caught, you know who the fall-guy is, right?”