Page 110 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
I’m still in the process of contemplating the whole scenario when Oscar lowers the weapon, so that it’s pointing directly at Todd’s head … and fires off a single round. The sound of it makes me jump, like a car backfiring in an enclosed parking garage. My ears are ringing so badly that it takes me a good two minutes to realize that Eric is screaming.
Havoc has just shot and killed Todd Kushner.
On the inside, my spirit writhes a bit. I don’t know how to process any of this.
After Don and Scott, I didn’t think … But then, I remember Oscar’s risk assessment. Three percent. Good odds for a killing.
Aaron sidles closer to me, putting his arm around my waist and dragging me close. His scent is so strong that when I bury myself against his chest for a moment, all I breathe in is rose and sandalwood. The sharp copper scent of blood disappears for the briefest of instances, but then I look up and see the body and time starts up all over again.
“Anything else you’d like to say Eric before I shoot him in the face?” Oscar asks mildly, unmoved by the situation. At least, on the outside. On the inside, a little boy with broken glasses and round-tipped scissors is screaming.
I stare at him for a moment before I push away from Aaron and move over to stand beside Eric. Crouching down, I reach out and swipe hair away from his bloodied forehead.
“Please,” he sobs, shaking, his hands bound behind his back, his ankles lashed together. “I don’t like to hurt people. I just have needs that can’t be met any other way.” I smile, but there’s no mirth in the expression. My fingers find the scar above Eric’s eye, where I hit him with the metal truck.
“You changed my life for the worst, Eric. Foster care was my escape, away from my mother, from my rapist stepfather. You stole that chance from me, from us.” Closing my eyes, I imagine a different world, one where Pen and Heather and I found a loving home, somewhere safe, and we all made it to adulthood without the marks of monsters on our skin.
I open my eyes.
I’m surrounded by my monsters now, but at least I hold the leash of some very pretty ones.
Shit, but did you really think they were just going to execute the Kushners? I didn’t. This is next level. There must really be some sweetness left in me somewhere because it still hurts, in a weird way. If murder only sparked joy in me, I’d be worried. But also, I feel no regret.
“Please, please, Bernadette. Please. I’m sorry. I won’t do it anymore. I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Eric is sobbing now, snot running out of his nose and over his lips. His spittle is foamy; he’s definitely hurting. Also … he must sense that he’s not walking out of here, right? Like I said, monsters always know to look for other monsters.
“Did you see what I did to your house?” I ask him and he nods, almost eagerly, like he thinks that admitting to this will please me. “Did it scare you?” He nods again, and I smile, standing up and moving back to stand next to Aaron again.
Oscar doesn’t ask me any questions, just steps forward and points his revolver at Eric again.
“No, please!” Eric screams, his voice shattering the still air.
Even though I’m expecting it, even though I want it, I still jump when Oscar pulls the trigger.Two years earlier …
Oscar MontaukIt’s not as if I enjoy doing violent things. No, it’s that violent things are necessary. You can’t create order without a little chaos. You can’t stir Havoc without a little pain.
Bernadette is sitting at a café across the street, a black coffee in front of her, blond hair hanging around her face. She doesn’t want to go to school today.
Because of us.
I put my elbow on the table and rest my chin in my hand, watching her. She probably thinks that only happens now, her being under the eyes of Havoc. But that’s not the case at all. The five of us were as fucked-up as children as we are now. We’ve always watched Bernadette Blackbird.
At first, we thought of her as a lost, little bird, someone that needed protecting because they were too weak and too soft to defend themselves. Life proved to us that we couldn’t save her, no matter how hard we tried. We couldn’t save her from her abusive mother, or her pedophile stepfather.
All of that because we didn’t have the power.
We do now. And the reason we have that power is because of the violence.
“Anything new to report?” Hael asks, flopping into the chair across from me. When he looks at Bernadette, I can see it in his eyes. He’s in love with her, but in a different way than I am. The love I have for her hurts. It stings. I grit my teeth against the sensation while Hael isn’t looking, but by the time he turns back to me, the emotion is gone. I keep it locked away in a silver chest inside my heart, and I always make sure to toss away the key.
