Page 102 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
I sit down on the chair between the two couches, figuring that’s the safest place for now. We might be fighting multiple wars on different fronts—real wars, ones with body counts—but there’s also an underlying current of male politics, testosterone, and romance. That’s the real clincher right there, the most dangerous thread in our tapestry of politics and intrigue.
“What’s our plan for today?” I ask as Aaron pads over and hands me a plate with toast and scrambled eggs on it. The fuck is this twisted reality? I wonder, staring at my ex and feeling his sweaty chest beneath my fingertips, his hips thrusting between my thighs. My god. How far we’ve all come.
I guess, when I spent every day last summer debating on whether or not to call Havoc, that was a smart choice. This isn’t the type of decision you make on the fly. No, you either feel it in your soul or you don’t.
Because I knew what price they’d give me, all along. I knew. In my heart, I knew.
I take a bite of my eggs and do my best to ignore Oscar’s intense stare. He’s been looking at me more lately, ever since Halloween night. It’s annoying the shit out of me.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” I ask, focusing on my breakfast and trying to ignore the violent clenching of my asshole uterus. Dead bodies, you say? Well, have some cramps on top of it, bitch. My lady parts are out to kill me.
“Couple of things,” Vic says, like he’s debating the merits of the itinerary he has in his head. We all know he’s already decided; this bit is just for fun, to pretend like he might actually be human. “I was thinking we start off by paying your stepfather’s partner a visit.”
My head perks up at that, and I turn to stare at Vic like he’s just suggested he perform his own circumcision.
“You’re kidding me? You want to go talk to a cop about another cop? Do you have a death wish? Or perhaps just a dream of incarceration?”
Victor ignores me to glance Oscar’s way.
“You really think she can be of use to us?” Vic asks, and Oscar nods.
“Neil Pence’s partner, Sara Young, is one of those save the world types. She thought she could make a difference by becoming a cop.” Oscar chuckles, like that’s one of the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. “She wants to save the world. I figure, either I’m right about her and she’ll want to seek justice or, she’s as dirty as he is, in which case, she dies, too.”
Dies.
There’s that word again.
It’d be pretty easy to think the Havoc Boys might just go down my list and start executing people. But killing folks has a tendency to draw attention. They like to inflict damage without leaving permanent marks, just like they did to me. Like they did to Donald. Or Principal Vaughn.
But if anyone were going to die, they had to know it was going to be him.
“You want to tell her about Neil and … what? Wait for her to go vigilante? To report him through official means?” I look up from my eggs and find that Hael’s fallen asleep again. Oscar glances his way, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Guess even that heartless asswipe figures the other boys need their sleep after a night of unburying, and then re-burying, bodies.
“You’re not going to tell her anything just yet. You’re just going to talk to her.” Oscar leans back into the couch, watching me with empty gray eyes and giving me the chills. He’s gearing up to something; I just have no idea what, exactly, that is. “Confide in her, make her your friend. You can handle that, can’t you, Bernie?” Oscar asks, but then, he doesn’t get to hear my answer because Victor’s phone rings. He glances at the screen, still casually slumped into the old sofa.
“Mitch,” he purrs, and I wish I could truly describe the way Vic smiles then. There are demons there, twisting up the edges of his lips. It isn’t a natural or normal smile and yet, my blood pressure spikes as soon as I see that malicious expression spread across his handsome face. It’s pure … I don’t want to say evil, because Victor is far from evil. Real evil, I’ve seen that, in the Thing’s face, in Eric’s bleeding scowl, in Kali’s pink painted sneers. But it’s something dark and wicked, something that glitters like the edge of a bloodstained blade. By the time he answers with a curt “Yeah”, I’m soaking wet.
“You sociopathic nightmare!” Mitch screams, now on speakerphone. Hael startles awake, his hand snaking underneath the cushion, likely to grab a weapon of some sort. He cracks one brown eye to watch Vic set the phone down on the coffee table. Victor leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him. “We’ve been fucking with you until now. You’ve just opened the floodgates, motherfucker.”
