Page 23 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
“Every action has consequences, Bernadette. Everything. If we’d turned that video in, Neil would’ve buried it. His brother, that fancy ass DA, he would’ve buried it. Or what about his father? He’s a circuit court judge. Even if—and that’s a big if—someone took it seriously, what sort of time would he be looking at? I hate to tell you this, Bernie, but our world is fucked. It’s fucked up and broken and ugly as hell.” Victor steps toward me again, but this time, I don’t pull away. How can I? He has me in orbit, and I despise him for that, too. “People don’t care about girls who get raped.”
My throat starts to close up, and white splotches flicker across my vision. I am this close to passing out. Screw the tacos, I guess. No way in hell I’m cooking tonight.
“People don’t, but we do,” Vic corrects, his words commanding me to look his way. But I won’t. If I can at least withhold this one thing from him, then maybe I’ll feel better. “And we’re going to get Neil, but these things take time. If we turn the video in, eyes will turn his way. We need as many of them to look away as we can, before we act. Do you believe me when I tell you that we’ll get him?”
“Hey, I called out Havoc. Make a deal, pay a price.” I start to move away, and Vic comes after me. The look I throw him must change his mind about grabbing me. “Do not touch me, Victor Channing.” Hurt flashes across his face, rapidly replaced with a scowl and a snarl that I just don’t have the time for today. “And don’t talk to me for the rest of the night.”
I storm across the street, across the front lawn and past Oscar, and into the house.
Aaron is sitting on the couch when I come in. He glances back at me, his gaze snagging on mine and holding me captive.
“I’m sorry about the video, Bernadette,” he says, closing his eyes briefly. When he opens them back up, he looks about as devastated as I feel. “You shouldn’t have had to see that.”
I just stare at him, sitting there with a bandage on his shoulder, and I think about the way he tried to defend me last night. Not just against Mitch and his crew, but against the Thing. Even when he was suffering from severe blood loss, even when he might’ve died.
I say nothing, turning away and finding myself face-to-face with Hael.
He seems to understand that I’m not ready to talk, stepping aside and holding out a hand to usher me past, like a proper gentleman.
I head up the steps, check in on the girls, and then lock myself in Aaron’s room for the rest of the night.
None of the Havoc Boys bother me.
Good for them.
Because I’m not ready to talk, not even fucking close.Two years earlier …By the time I get home from school, I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. The Havoc Boys own Prescott High and right now, they own me, too. I can’t take one step, can’t speak one single word, without them breathing down my neck.
Today, they took my lunch away and made me run laps around the track until I collapsed in the hot heat of the afternoon, waking up in the nurse’s office.
“Hello, Bernadette,” Nurse Whitney said, smiling at me like she had a secret she just couldn’t wait to tell. “Are you feeling better?” I sat up, shrugging and then reaching a hand up to press against my throbbing head. “Once you’ve got yourself together, Principal Vaughn wants to speak to you in his office.”
I shudder as I close the front door behind me, closing my eyes against the memory. I’d thought at first that the principal might want to talk to me about Havoc. Oh, how wrong I was about that. Touching my hand to my thigh, I can still feel the slimy trail of Vaughn’s fingers as he caressed my bare leg.
“Fucking pervert,” I murmur, pushing up off the door. “Penelope!” I call out, noticing her backpack on the floor near the front door. I can’t think about Havoc, or creepy Principal Vaughn, not here. Because this place is as much of a battleground as school—if not more so. “Pen!” I call again, popping into the kitchen for a glass of water. I’m starving, but there’s no food here, and I’m not likely to get any tonight.
Sometimes, the Thing will take us all out for a surprise dinner, but it’s rare, and I’ve noticed that Penelope always looks so empty on those nights. Besides, just sitting at a table with that monster is torture. Frankly, I’d rather starve.
When I don’t hear anything from my sister, I head upstairs.
Pen’s door is locked when I try the handle, but I figure she’s just listening to music and head into the room I share with Heather. Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I clutch the glass of water in my hands and play a game I’m well-familiar with, one where I try to see if I can cry without making a sound, and if I can keep my tears from filling the glass.
