Page 113 of Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 1)
For several minutes, we just stand there, locked together.
“Get the fuck off of me,” I grumble, and he laughs, stepping back to give me some space.
Vic doesn't leave the bathroom stall when I sit down to pee, so I just glare at him as he leans in the corner like a satisfied housecat.
“We are not at this level,” I growl as he just smirks at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is, like, twenty years together married couple level.”
“That'll be us someday,” he says, leaning over to get in my face, just because he can. “I'm just jump-starting the process. Besides, I like to enjoy the aftershocks of sex, it's my favorite part, knowing there's a little part of me inside of you.”
“Go to hell.” I finish cleaning up—well, as best I can considering where we are—and then stuff some extra toilet paper in my underwear. I stand up and fix my pants as Vic opens the door and holds it for me like he thinks he can even pretend to be a gentleman after fucking me in the high school bathroom.
We both pause to wash our hands at the sinks, and I feel a hot flush creep into my cheeks.
Ugh. Gross. Blushing is most definitely not in my repertoire of tricks. I hate it. It implies a certain level of vulnerability, some physical acknowledgement of one's emotions.
After I dry my hands, Vic reaches out and takes my hand, running his thumb over my engagement ring. The whole school knows about us; I hear whispers in the hallway when I walk by.
“I'm taking you with me after school.”
“I—” I start, but Vic cocks a brow and yanks me close.
“That's an official order,” he says, and I grit my teeth. He finally lets go of me, and I head for the door before we can get caught up in each other again. Elbowing my way out, I find the halls empty … and the rest of Havoc waiting for us.
“We were trying to give you time to finish up,” Oscar says, his hands tucked into the pockets on his slacks. His gray eyes scan me with bored bemusement, but there’s something else there, a glint or a spark or whatever. He blinks once and it disappears, but I know what I saw. “But we have a problem that needs our attention now.”
“Yeah?” Vic says, lighting up a cigarette right there in the hallway. “What is it?”
“The Ensbrooks and the Charters are outside with Ivy Hightower,” Aaron says, his voice low.
Panic shoots through me, but when I glance over at Victor, he's deadly calm.
“Where?” he asks, and the boys lead us outside toward the basketball courts.
Mitch and Logan Charter, Kyler, Danny, and Timmy Ensbrook, along with Kali and Billie, are all waiting outside. Mitch and Kyler are shooting hoops while the others sort of mill around nearby. It's not hard to see who the ringleader is here. I remember Mitch and Vic standing off outside the school that day.
But Mitch Charter is no match for Victor Channing.
“What the hell do you want?” Vic asks, the cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he makes his way over to stand on the opposite side of the court. “I don't like being interrupted when I'm fucking my girl, so make this quick.”
My cheeks flush hot, but I'm not embarrassed, just irritated. Fucking Vic.
I move up to stand beside him anyway, with Aaron on his other side, and Hael, Oscar, and Callum spread out behind us.
“Ivy here had some interesting things to tell us about last weekend,” Mitch says, tossing the basketball into the hoop and fist pumping when he makes the basket. He swaggers over to us like he thinks he's Hael Harbin or something, running his fingers through his dark hair. But he's nowhere near as handsome as any of the Havoc Boys really, or maybe I'm just biased.
“And I give a shit why?” Vic asks, studying the slightly smaller boy. When I look at Victor standing there with his purple-black hair and all that ink swirling down his arms, something strange happens inside my chest. It’s that same damn pang I felt in the bathroom just now. Affection. My lip curls.
“Ivy says you killed Principal Vaughn,” Mitch announces with a smirk. But it's a smirk that doesn't last long. A very dry, very real laugh escapes Vic's throat as he reaches up and plucks the smoke from his lips, flicking it in Mitch's direction.
“We're done here,” he says, turning and heading back for the back entrance of Prescott High.
“Don't you walk away from me,” Mitch snarls, making the mistake of putting his hand on Victor's shoulder.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
That man can move.
In an instant, Victor has Mitch screaming on the pavement, one arm twisted behind Mitch’s back, his knee pressing down on Mitch’s spine.
