Page 16 of Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 2)
“You think you're tough, don't you, Bernadette?” he asks me, his voice deceptively mild. If he thinks I don't notice the way his fingers curl around the steering wheel, then he's grossly underestimated me.
“No, I don't think anything. I've proven it. I want to go after my social worker, Coraleigh Vincent.” Oscar’s eyes widen slightly at the name, like he expected me to mention the Thing or Kali. But even I understand they’re a bit more complicated than some of the other names on my list. As far as Principal Vaughn … I have no idea what to think.
“I know all about Ms. Vincent,” Oscar says, his smile growing in depravity. It's practically obscene now, almost wantonly uncivilized. “She's been promoted, you know, since you last saw her.”
My jaw clenches as I think of Coraleigh Vincent and her plastered faux smile, her murmured words of comfort, her promises.
“Don't worry, Bernadette. Everything will be different here; you can start a new life.”
She delivered me into the hands of a monster, my foster ‘brother’, Eric Kushner.
A social worker who takes money to deliver pretty girls to ugly monsters.
She handpicks ‘em, girls who seem like victims, who don't have any extended family that might care what happens to them, girls who are pretty.
I've always hated being pretty.
I wish the scars I had on my soul showed on my face. Touching gentle fingers to the bandage on my cheek, I wonder if I’m not already on my way to getting that shit granted.
“Promoted, huh?” I ask, thinking about how a woman paid to rescue children from bad circumstances cares more about money than actually helping people. Hell, she went out of her way to make sure I was hurt.
“Come sit next to me, Bernie. I'm your new brother, after all.”
Memories swirl like a dark storm inside my head, pushing against the emotional levees I've built over the years. My protective layer of numbness is falling apart; these next names on the list are going to hurt.
1. the stepdad
2. the best friend
3. the social worker
4. the ex-boyfriend
5. the principal
6. the foster brother
7. the mom
One down, just six more to go … which, unfortunately, is one more than I thought we had to deal with last night.
“She's now the director of DHS’s new child welfare program.”
I throw my head back with maniacal laughter at Oscar's words. The thought of Coraleigh being in charge of protecting children … that's priceless.
Life isn't fair.
But if I have to sacrifice my life to make sure the people who hurt me suffer, then so be it.
Even if it means siccing villains on villains, I'll do it.
Even if it means becoming one.
“She lives in a big, fancy house in Oak Park with her husband Marcus,” Oscar continues, his voice as smooth and even as a snake's scales. I don’t liken his relative calm to tameness because, like a viper, he could strike at any moment and I wouldn't see it coming. “They have a Ferrari now, and a vacation home in Newport.”
I punch the dashboard and then immediately regret it, clutching my fist against my chest as my ears ring and my heartbeat thunders like a herd of horses.
Oscar smiles.
“You're not nearly as put together as you'd have the world believe,” he tells me, as if he knows the dark, twisted depths of my soul better than I do. What he doesn't know is that I once heard him crying in the boys' bathroom when we were eight. One of the boys in the class had pulled his glasses off and crushed them, and Oscar couldn't see anything. The boy and his friends took his backpack, ate his lunch.
Eight years later, I saw him curb stomp that kid's head outside of Prescott High.
I lick my lower lip to wet it and shake my head.
“He who is without sin should throw the first stone, Oscar …” I warn, and he laughs again. Maybe he finds it funny, me using a religious story to chastise him. We both know we're headed straight for hell.
“Your stepfather's becoming a problem,” Oscar admits as we pull into the parking lot of the grocery store. Across the street is the pharmacy where Hael took me to get a morning-after pill. “Seeing him at Aaron's house last night was a concern, to be sure.”
“Isn't that why Havoc has people?” I ask dryly, glancing over and finding Oscar's trenchant expression resting on me. He pushes his glasses up with an inked middle finger, flashing the 'V' of his H.A.V.O.C. tattoo. Jesus, what have I gotten myself into? “To warn us about that shit? How did the Thing get into the house? And with Kali and Scott on top of it?”
“That's what Victor was dealing with last night,” Oscar says as he pushes open the driver's side door open. “Several of our guys were left bleeding and broken by Mitch's crew; the rest are now bleeding and broken because Vic cannot stand failure of any kind.” He slips out and closes his door behind him, leaving me to catch up.
