Page 85 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
“I'm not designed to live any other life,” I say, and the words feel too real, like I wasn't quite ready to say them. I move over to the rusted shit-heap that's supposed to be my future car and hop up onto it, shedding my pink leather jacket as I do. “So do it. Make me bleed for Havoc again.”
“We need to talk about the video,” Vic says finally, and I laugh, shivering as Aaron lays the tattoo machine down on the hood next to me, and starts to slip into the gloves. As he snaps the black latex into place, I get all sorts of dark thoughts, and my mind strays back to his hard body under mine as I rode him into a violent climax. My eyes lift to Aaron's and stay there.
“What is there to talk about?” I quip as Aaron reaches out to take my hand. Even with the latex covering his fingers, I shiver when he touches me, laying my left hand out on my jeans-clad thigh. He weaves our fingers together, and it's impossible to miss the way Vic's staring at us.
“I want to offer up an apology,” Victor says, and Aaron goes stone-still, lifting his gaze up to his leader's like he's seriously pissed him off. “I was wrong. No excuses. I fucked-up.”
“You're telling her this now?” Aaron snaps back at him as he loads up the ink. It's mesmerizing, to watch his black-clad hands do the work, his tattoos bleeding out from underneath the gloves. “After the fact?” Aaron's tone is incredibly dry, almost enough to turn my damp panties into a damn desert.
Vic just shrugs and slides his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, eyes still on us. Whatever it is that he's got going on between him and Aaron, it's toxic, something we're going to have to deal with sooner rather than later.
“A real man admits his mistakes.” Vic's dark gaze moves from Aaron to Oscar, and the two exchange a look of their own. “Isn't that right, Oscar?”
“Mm.” That's the only response we get as Hael slips his shirt off, his brightly colored ink catching the sunshine as he gets beneath the hood of one of the car skeletons inside the garage, unscrewing the bumper while Callum waits nearby to lift it off for him.
“Can we be done with this, Bernie?” Vic asks, lifting an eyebrow. He knows he messed up. I'm glad about that at least, but I don't trust him for shit. He can't repair that quite so easily.
“What about the Kevlar?” Aaron asks, wiping my knuckles down with some antiseptic wipes that Oscar brings over to him. He cleans my skin with a careful intensity that has me shivering, even with the hot sun on my bare shoulders. “You gonna apologize about that?”
“What Kevlar situation?” I ask, fully aware that I have yet to accept Vic's apology. He grits his teeth, also fully aware of the situation I'm sure. Although I can't decide if half of his ire is for Aaron, or if it's all just specially cooked up for me.
“At the Halloween party,” Aaron says, taking a pink disposable razor from Oscar and running it over my knuckles to get rid of the small blonde hairs there. He switches it out for another antiseptic wipe, giving me one, last scrub down before he takes a seat in a chair brought over by Oscar. “I wanted you to wear Kevlar; Vic thought it would be too obvious.”
“Too obvious for what?” I ask, taking in a sharp breath as I prepare myself for the sting of the needle. That's the thing with tattoos; they always hurt. But it's a good sort of hurt, as the ink mixes with the blood, and the pain begins to edge toward a sick, sadistic sort of pleasure. It shouldn't feel good to hurt like this, but it does. It reminds me of what Callum said outside of Principal Vaughn's house, how pain can look pretty to those that have too much of it.
“If we walked in there with you wearing Kevlar over that sexy, little midsection of yours, then the Charter Crew would've known we were on the lookout for their bullshit.” Vic turns away, facing off toward the road and the distant rumble of cars. The train tracks are just across the street from us, and we're only about three blocks away from the drive-in. “It was a tactical decision.”
“A risky tactical decision,” Aaron says, turning his attention back to me. “You ready?” I nod, feeling beads of sweat trail down my spine. Once I do this, I'm committed. The only way to scrub Havoc from my body after this would be to get some crazy expensive laser treatments. The thing is, after what I've already been through with them, I doubt I could ever scrub them from my heart and soul. “You put Bernadette's life in danger.” Aaron starts the machine with a pleasant buzz, running his tongue across his lower lip and then looking up to meet my eyes. He presses the tip of the needle into my thumb and my breath escapes in a rush. “And you didn't ask her either.”
