Page 89 of Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 1)
The sound of the door opening snaps me out of my daze, and I freeze. Did someone pick the lock? Callum could pretty easily if he wanted. Hell, what am I saying? Any of the Havoc Boys could.
Peeling back the curtain, I find Aaron yawning, his dick in his hand as he takes a piss.
“What are you doing in here?” I snap, and he jumps, missing his target, so to speak, and cursing violently under his breath. “Did you pick the lock?”
“No, fuck, no,” he grumbles, adjusting his aim as I stand there glaring, my anxious heartbeat shifting into a different rhythm, one that doesn't exactly add up to a guy taking a piss in front of me. But even though I'm naked and Aaron somehow breezed through the locked door, I'm not afraid of him. He wouldn't hurt me, I think automatically, but then my cynical mind starts to laugh when I remember.
Right.
He already did.
But … for what reason?
“I barely managed to keep the girls from ending up in foster care.”
“I'm waiting,” I say as he shakes off his cock and tucks it away, zipping his pants up and snatching a container of antiseptic wipes to clean up the mess. Wow. A seventeen-year-old guy covered in tattoos scrubbing up stray droplets of pee to keep a toilet clean? Unheard of. He even puts the toilet seat down when he's done, and I can't help but be thoroughly impressed.
“The lock on this door is broken. I've been meaning to fix it, but … life.” Aaron glances over at me, some of his wavy chestnut hair falling into his eyes. He flicks it away with inked fingers. “And I'm sorry. It's early, I'm tired. The girls take forever in the shower in the mornings, so we've worked out a system where I can sneak in and pee if I have to.” He scrubs a hand over his face.
“Don't you have a downstairs bathroom?” I ask, and he gives me this look with those green-gold eyes of his.
“It's occupied,” he says, narrowing his gaze even further. “We hide the weed in there.”
“The weed?” I ask, imagining, like, a small baggy full of the green stuff.
“Yeah,” Aaron says, sounding tired. “We have some people that grow for us, and then they pass it over for drying. I don't want the girls to know what we do, so we hide it in there and keep the door locked.”
“Oh.” My fingers stay curled around the edge of the shower curtain. “That makes sense in a strange, Havoc sort of way …”
“It pays the bills,” Aaron says, watching me carefully as water drips down my face and sluices between my gently parted lips. “I don't exactly have dental or health insurance for the girls.”
“You don't have to justify yourself to me,” I say when I realize that he's getting defensive. That'd be Aaron for you. I think he always got off on being the nice guy. Now he can never be the nice guy again. It pisses him off, I think.
My gaze scans his body automatically, taking note of how much he's changed since we were together. His muscles are hard, covered in ink. His sweatpants hang too low, showing off that enticing 'V' on his hips that he never had before. While his personality may have downgraded, his body sure has upgraded.
I lift my eyes to his.
“I want to know everything that happened with Kali,” I tell him, and his jaw tightens. “I deserve that much at least, don't you think?”
“I …” Aaron trails off, and he doesn't look so badass for a moment there, but like the boy who held my hand in a rainy graveyard. “Yeah, you do.” He turns toward the door, and something catches in my throat. I think it's the need to call out to him, to ask him to come back, to look him in the eye and see if he still cares about me.
“For the record, I could never go to Nantucket,” I say, and he pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “My grandma can't take Heather in; they're not related. Nona's my dad's mother, remember? And I can't leave Heather with the Thing. You know what happened to Penelope.”
I can see Aaron's breath slow before he finally turns the knob.
“I'll make pancakes,” he says, and then he slips out and leaves me alone to slide down the shower wall.
For the first time in almost two years, I cry.
And it feels fucking great.Dressed in cut-off shorts, and a dark pink halter that mimics the color of my hair, I head downstairs and find all five guys in the kitchen, sitting on counters, slouching against walls, all of them with breakfast plates in their hands.
I walk in barefoot and all eyes fall on me, making me shiver. It makes me feel both powerful and terrified at the same time; I can't explain it.
