Page 114 of Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 1)
“Do not fucking touch me,” Victor says, his voice ice-cold, his expression blank but edged with violence. “That's a mistake most people only make once. The only reason you're still breathing is because we're on school grounds. I don't kill people on campus.”
“Help me, you pieces of shit!” Mitch screams at his friends, and surprisingly, they actually come forward to back him up. But as quick as Vic put Mitch on the ground, he releases him and backs up a few steps.
“Now, you listen here. We didn't kill Principal Vaughn, but ask yourselves this: even if we did, is that something you want to keep talking about?” The way Victor stares them down, it's not hard to see that he's making a very real threat.
“We'll call the fucking cops!” Mitch screams back, and only Kyler and Logan keep him from making the worst mistake of his life by rushing Vic.
“With twenty grand in product sitting your trailer?” Oscar asks, lifting up his iPad and showing off a photo I've never seen before. There are bags full of white powder stacked near a table with a scale. It's not hard to figure out what that is. “I doubt it.”
“But Ivy, that big mouth of yours,” Vic says with another dry laugh, shaking his head and wagging a finger at her. “That shit is gonna get you in loads of trouble, sweetie.”
“Screw you!” Ivy yells, stepping forward and wrapping her hands around Danny’s arm. Great. So she's shacking up with one of the Ensbrook brothers now? “I know what I saw that night.”
“You also know you've been spending Vaughn's cash and charging up his credit cards,” Hael growls out, giving me a look and leaning in close to whisper. “Bet you regret being nice to that bitch now, huh?”
“No act of kindness goes unpunished,” I reply, watching Ivy carefully. She's such a damn gossip. How did I ever think letting her go would lead to anything but this? In the past, it wouldn't have been a problem because she would've been too scared of Havoc to open that big mouth of hers. But now that she's got the Ensbrooks to hide behind?
“I've got class,” Vic says, turning away again. “And I don't have time for this shit today. You want to play games with us, Charter, you come find us at Stacey's party.”
“We'll fucking be there!” Kali screams out, dressed in a tight green dress with gold glitter on it. It's tacky as hell, but I'm not surprised. Pretty sure Kali's under the delusion that she looks nice.
“Should we be worried?” Aaron asks as we head inside, but Vic shakes his head.
“About Mitch and crew? You're joking, right?” Victor pauses as the double doors swing shut behind us, and then he turns to me, putting his big hands on either side of my face. When he kisses me, I'm too shocked to have much of a reaction. His tongue sweeps my lower lip and then dives in, consuming me, claiming me. And right there in front of all the Havoc Boys and …
“Ahem, Mr. Channing, Ms. Blackbird,” Ms. Keating says, clearing her throat. Vic chuckles and releases me, glancing over at the vice principal in her black skirt suit. “Do we all have classes we should be attending?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Vic says, sliding his inked fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. “I was just giving my girl a see you later kiss.”
“Right,” Ms. Keating says, giving me a sideways look. “Off you go, all of you.”
We all scatter our separate ways, but as I'm reaching for the door to the gym, Ms. Keating stops me.
“Bernadette, do you have a moment?” she asks, and I shrug. I'd rather get an excused absence from P.E. than have to stand around and pretend like I give a fuck about volleyball. I follow the vice principal into her neat, tidy little office. The walls are covered with inspirational posters that say things like Shoot for the Moon—If You Miss, You’ll Land Among the Stars!
Huh.
Starry-eyed millennial bullshit.
I’m a realist, through and through. That crap doesn’t work on me. The world is not an endless feast of exploration, discovery, and joy. Not for me it isn’t.
“Well?” I ask, cocking a brow and leaning back in the chair. “You definitely didn’t call me in here to discuss my stellar grades, and all the scholarship opportunities coming my way, so what’s up?”
“Bernadette,” Ms. Keating says with a sigh, folding her dark-skinned hands together, her nails painted a cheery yellow this week. Her brown eyes bore into me, but I just stare straight back at her. She’s a good woman, but her cheery optimism and strong conviction would be better spent elsewhere, perhaps on younger kids who still have hope for the future. Those of us at Prescott … well, it’s just too late for us. Ms. Keating is wasting her time. “I’ve noticed you’ve started dating Victor Channing?”
