Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #3)(83)

“It's okay,” I reply, feeling mollified for the time being. It's nice to know that Cal is on my side. A horn sounds from outside, and Cal grins.

“Better get going, eh Bernie?” He puts his hand on the small of my back and opens the door, leading me around the side of the garage and through a gate that leads to the street. Hael is waiting, music trickling into the car as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel and waits for Cal and me to climb in.

“Skipped school for a little bondage, huh?” Hael asks, chuckling like the asshole he is. I don't know how he knows what we did, but oh well. There are no secrets in Havoc, right? I flip Hael off and he hits the gas, sending us flying down the road. “Hope you got fucked nice and good because it looks like we're gonna have a fight on our hands tonight.”

“Good,” I say, letting my anger at Oscar ride fast and hard through me. “Because I could use letting out a little steam.”





The other boys are waiting at the garage when we pull up, but they're not the only ones. There are dozens of masked men and women that watch me with reverent eyes as I climb out of Hael's Camaro and head up the drive to where Victor's waiting.

He's smoking a cigarette, his stance casual. But his eyes, they fucking burn.

“Where you been all day, Bernadette?” he asks, because he's a total asshole and already knows. I flip him off, too, and he gives a tight smile in response. “Your boy here got jumped on his way back from visiting Coraleigh.”

I look down at Oscar, his face bruised, lip split. His glasses are missing, so I'm guessing they got smashed up and he's wearing contacts now. He looks up at me with an expression that's impossible to read.

“You are going to regret leaving me there like that,” I tell him, putting my hands on my hips as Aaron makes his way over to stand beside Oscar's chair. He looks between the two of us with narrowed eyes. “Once is a mistake; twice is a pattern. You're a royal prick, you know that?”

Oscar reaches up and brushes some blood from his lip. He's not wearing his suit anymore either. This time, he's got on black sweats and a hoodie. Without his polished, perfect uniform in place he looks like a different person.

“I would've been back to fuck you again, but I was detained,” is all he says. “My meeting with Leigh took all of ten minutes. The walk to her office and back was thirty.” Oscar stands up from the chair, looking down at me. “Beating the shit out of Kyler and Timmy Ensbrook took a half hour.” He lifts his head up to look past me, at the gathered Havoc Crew in the front yard of the old garage. “Organizing this took up the rest of my day.”

“Excuses, excuses,” I murmur, but Oscar just moves past me to stand next to Vic. His lack of attention is so goddamn annoying. I realize that it's probably a tactic to get me to pay attention to him, but I don't care. I'm still pissed. “But I know when it's time for business, and when it's time to cut your boyfriend's balls off. So, what's up?”

“Mitch is rallying his troops,” Aaron says, lighting up a cigarette and offering it over to me.

“Because of the drive-by?” I clarify. It was only a week ago, but it feels like a lifetime. We've been back and forth with Mitch and his people ever since. I can feel Billie's eyes following me down the halls, just waiting for another opportunity to strike from the shadows.

“For sewing Kali's mouth shut,” Aaron explains, and my attention whips over to him.

“What?” I ask, blinking through my temporary shock. “The hell are you talking about?” I take a drag on the cigarette as I stare back at him, exhaling smoke through my nostrils. “Like, literally?”

“Snitches get stitches,” Aaron says mildly, handing me his phone. There's a picture of Kali Rose-Kennedy with her pink lipstick smeared, blood running down her chin to stain her halter top. Her lips have quite literally been sewn together. “Word spreads quick at Prescott.”

“Did you guys do this?” I ask, and Victor laughs, turning around to face me as Cal takes a seat on the pavement, flicking the wheel of his lighter on and off as he watches more students pull onto the road and get out of their cars.

“Unfortunately not,” Vic says, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, it's a brilliant idea. The little rat deserves all of that and more, but it was the Langford girls who put one over on her. Stacy really doesn't like narks.” He turns away again, studying his people like a warlord plotting strategy.

“Sara Young used her as bait,” I say, because I'm not sure how much of what I told Oscar has made its way around the group. “She purposely let what Kali told her slip. I'd thought she was the lawful good type, but it appears she's willing to play dirty to get what she wants.”

“She's been sniffing around the cemetery, too,” Aaron adds, and I glance back at him, passing the cigarette over. “Our boys trailed her up there this afternoon. She walked around and took a ton of pictures, including one of Penelope's shattered angel statue.” My blood chills as I see four metaphorical walls closing in on us. “She didn't notice Neil's grave site though; there've been a half-dozen new bodies buried there since we paid the place a visit.”

“We're going to have to kill her,” Oscar says, accepting a fresh cigarette when Vic offers one and lighting up. I just stare at him because I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen him smoke, drink, or light up a bowl. Jesus.