Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #3)(76)

“Stop that,” I growl out, because I’m not sure if he’s actually worried or just playing with me. “You guys better have a backup plan for Officer Young.”

“We’re not worried about her,” Cal tells me, pitching his voice nice and low. The fingers of his right hand knead my shoulder slightly, and I shudder with pleasure. “She might be able to follow a trail, but she’s still a pig. We have plans.” Callum pauses briefly and gives a small sigh, like he’s prepping to tell me something he isn’t sure I’ll like. “They involve your mother.”

Ah.

One of my darkest shadows; one of my biggest disappointments.

Pamela.



By Monday, it’s clear that Sara Young is interested in Havoc, but mostly … she’s interested in me. If I ride with Hael, she’s behind us. If I walk with Callum, there she is. Doesn’t matter which Havoc Boy, as long as I’m there, she’ll follow.

She’s still trying to be the good cop to Constantine’s bad, but it doesn’t make any difference because she’s already laid out her intentions loud and clear. She doesn’t have any evidence … yet. But she’s going to keep digging.

By Thursday, I’m so done with her shit that I don’t even bother trying to start class with Mr. Darkwood; I just storm into Ms. Keating’s office and fling the door against the wall.

Apparently, Principal Vaughn was about to lock it, because I appear to have ripped the doorknob from his one remaining useable hand.

In one of two chairs in front of Ms. Keating’s desk, I see Kali Rose-Kennedy.

She turns to look at me over her shoulder, eyes widening slightly before narrowing.

“Bernadette,” Officer Young says, smiling and holding out a hand to indicate I should take a seat. “Funny you should show up here, right now. What a coincidence.”

“What’s going on?” I ask as I slip into the room and stop next to Kali’s chair. The empty one is on her other side, but that’s not my point. I stay where I am, looming over her. “I just figured since you’ve been calling me in here so damn much, I’d jump the gun and come myself.”

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Constantine suggests as Kali shifts slightly in her seat and then flips her hair. Her eyes take me in from head to toe as my tongue tingles with the taste of gossip. If she was in here squealing, god help her. Prescott always knows a snitch. “Bernadette?”

After an awkward period of silence where I just stare at Kali until she gets uncomfortable again, I finally take my seat. Looking back over at her, I take great pride in seeing that she’s still bruised and swollen in the face.

“Kali here wanted to talk to us about a few things,” Sara says, and I can see it in her eyes that she’s just laid an awful trap. It’s too obvious for my liking, but it also makes me sick to my stomach at the same time. What Officer Young has just done is this: look, Bernadette, here’s a snitch; if something happens to her, I’ll know you did it.

Because seriously, no police officer—not even one as ignorant as Sara Young—would make the mistake of outing a student informant in front of a possible suspect.

I resist the urge to clench my teeth.

I’m not sure if Kali knows what Sara’s doing; she looks a bit disturbed by the whole situation.

“Kali was telling us how you, her, and Neil had a conversation on that Friday he went missing. She said she saw you getting violent with your stepdad.” I smile and do my best not to blurt out that Kali could very well be carrying Neil’s baby. His or Mitch’s, I guess. Definitely not David’s, I’m sure about that.

David explains how Kali might’ve run into Tom Muller and, by consequence of that, Ophelia Mars. She hates her son; Kali hates me. It might’ve seemed like a match made in heaven. Oscar might think I’m making a jump of logic, assuming Kali went after my stepdad because of his connection to me, but that’s only because he didn’t see the way she was looking at me and Aaron together.

She still has it, that awful, writhing tentacle of jealousy. It’s wrapped around her throat, squeezing the life out of her. I’d feel bad for her, you know, if she hadn’t called Havoc on me.

“I only know what I saw,” Kali says, crossing her legs at the knee. She’s wearing hot pink lipstick today, along with jean shorts that show her ass, and peep toe pumps. Guess she didn’t learn a lesson the last time I stomped her toes with my boots. “Sorry, Bernie, but I couldn’t lie.” She gives me a sympathetic sort of look, but I ignore her.

Her obsession with me shouldn’t have to be my problem.

I’m starting to think she’s legitimately crazy which almost makes me feel sorry for her. Almost, but then I’m also dead certain that she has no soul.

“And me and Ms. Keating only know that he pistol-whipped her in the face and sent her to the hospital. If you’re trying to use Kali against me, you’ve made a mistake.” I look from Sara to Constantine and sigh. “What you have done is ensure that Stacy Langford and her girls are going to jump Kali after school. Nobody likes a snitch.”

“I’m not snitching,” Kali scoffs, like that didn’t even occur to her. “The detective”—she gestures at Constantine, gold bracelets jangling—“asked what happened on Friday, and I told the truth the way I know it to be. I’m sure you did the same.”