Page 107 of Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 3)
What I see blows me the fuck away.
My breath catches, and I get so dizzy that I have to close my eyes to keep from falling over. Even sitting down, I feel unsteady.
“Bernadette,” Aaron whispers, and I open my eyes again.
Inside the box, I see a stack of old photos and a USB drive. These are all the pictures of Penelope that I thought I’d lost when the boys loaded my shit up in the backyard and set it on fire. At the time, my sister was still alive, so while I was heartbroken, I wasn’t suicidal about the whole thing. But then … Pen killed herself.
Or … was killed. I’m not sure I can ever get the answer to that particular mystery. The Thing wouldn’t have told me anyway. Even under torture, I’m not sure he would’ve shown all his cards. That’s the thing about those psychopathic narcissist types; they can literally rewrite reality in their heads and start believing their own lies.
Actually, there’s a South Park episode called “Fishsticks” that perfectly encapsulates that point.
I dump the contents onto the floor, looking for one photo in particular. My eyes are swimming with tears again, but I know that Aaron isn’t judging me. There. I find what I’m looking for: a strip of pictures from a stupid photobooth at the casino arcade. Mom and Dad used to go there to mingle with their fancy high-roller friends. I have very few memories of life before my father died, like my subconscious blocked it out to protect me.
After all, how could I keep going under the current conditions if I had memories of what life was supposed to be like? I needed to get used to the crap I’d been handed and deal. That was the only way.
“Jesus,” I murmur, looking down at Pen’s smiling face. She was only seven in this picture; I was six. We were so goddamn cute, so innocent, unspoiled and perfect. My thumb rubs across the picture, wishing I had more than just this. Wishing I had my sister back. “Killing Neil didn’t bring her back, Aaron,” I say, even though that’s a stupid statement to make. Obviously killing Neil Pence wasn’t going to resurrect my sister from the dead. “For so long, all I’ve wanted to do is hurt him, make him pay.” I look up from the photo to find Aaron watching me carefully, like he isn’t sure if he should just listen or if he should scoop me into his arms and take over, stroke my hair back, murmur sweet things in my ear. “Now that he’s gone, that it’s done … I feel empty.”
Aaron gets onto his hands and knees and crawls over to me, my first love wrapped in ink and violence. But when he presses his forehead to mine, all I can feel is his compassion, his need to protect. On the day of his father’s funeral, Aaron told me that he wished he could take care of all of us, that he wished he were strong enough.
He’s spent years granting his own wish. He can and does take care of this family; he is strong, on the inside and the outside.
“Fill all of that emptiness with my love,” he whispers, eyes still closed. I want to close mine, too, because I’m crying so hard, but I love the way he looks on his hands and knees in front of me. Such a beautiful boy, and an even more handsome man. “We’re here to warm up that void, Bernadette. Get used to it.”
I smile, dropping the photo to my lap. Our faces rub together and then our mouths meet. Aaron kisses me properly, stealing my soul away through my mouth, making it his. In return, he gives me his own soul, and I accept it with greedy fingers and a desperate heart.
“You and me, we’re fucking fate,” he says, his mouth moving against mine as he speaks the words. My arms wrap around his neck as our tongues tangle. He takes great care to push the photos safely to the side and then climbs on top of me, encouraging me to lay back on his rug so he can ravage me with his lips. “You’re all there is for me, Bernadette. I live and breathe by your command.”
Aaron shoves my pants down my hips, breaking our kiss to drop his face between my thighs. He puts his mouth on me, lips hot and tongue greedy, tasting me and groaning with pleasure at the same time.
He takes his time with it, moving his lips to mine, and his cock to my opening only after he’s certain that I’ve been satisfied several times over. We don’t leave that room until it’s time to get the girls, and when we do, I make sure to take Penelope’s picture with me, so I can give it to Heather.
