Page 32 of Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 3)
“What do we do with her?” I ask as we stand outside on the deck in the morning, icy wind whipping around us. It’s only Wednesday, and we have until Sunday to figure out how to proceed with the Vincents, but this little girl … is someone out there missing her? “We can’t leave her here.”
“We can’t take her back with us either,” Victor warns, and that’s where I hear it: the cold, cruelness of a leader. Taking Alyssa back is what I want to do. She can just live with us, right? I’d take care of her. But it’s too goddamn dangerous, too risky. If she is officially missing and we’re caught with her, we’re in big trouble. Even if she’s somehow not missed by anyone in particular, one phone call from the wrong person and we might have to deal with the authorities. Risking Heather, Kara, and Ashley for a stranger is something we can’t do.
“Let’s put her with the Peters,” Oscar says, leaning his elbows on the wood railing of the deck. I don’t miss the way the other four boys still in the early afternoon light, like he’s said something disturbingly out of the ordinary. To his credit, Oscar barely stirs. He remains where he is, dressed in a suit and tie, like he usually is. Guess he isn’t planning on hitting the beach today.
To be fair, the weather is tumultuous and wild, the beach windswept and besieged by waves. I’ve already told the girls that if they want to play in the sand, it has to be near the deck of the house. That’s November on the Oregon coast for you.
“Good idea,” Vic says, as if the other guys aren’t still staring at Oscar like he’s nuts. “We’ll have Leigh place Alyssa with the Peters. Excellent. Next item on the agenda: what do we want to do with the Vincents in the long-run?” Victor turns to me, and I shiver when his dark eyes pass over me. I know what he thinks when he looks at me because it’s the same twisted intensity inside my own chest. That feeling, it writhes like a snake with smooth scales and a wicked tongue. I hop up on the railing next to Oscar and watch him stiffen up as he pretends I don’t exist.
“What was your original plan?” I ask, looking at each boy in turn. Aaron is staring back at me like his heart is breaking a little everyday he doesn’t touch me. My fingers tighten on the railing as I resist the urge to hop down and curl up in his strong arms. I already miss his smell. Probably why I ended up grabbing one of his hoodies to wear out here in the crazy weather. “I mean, before they started dropping news about Ophelia. What were you guys going to do?”
“Take their Ferrari Spider out for one, last test drive before we dismantle it and sell off the parts,” Hael says with a dreamy sigh, leaning his head back and holding out his tongue to taste the mist drizzling down from the gray sky. “As a mechanic and car enthusiast, I have to say, you guys make me do things that haunt my nightmares.”
“Shut up, Hael,” Oscar snaps, even testier than usual. Jesus. I look at him with a healthy dollop of skepticism, but he ignores me. Dickhead. I lied. He is not the master of control; Victor is. When Oscar is uncomfortable, his control starts to splinter. Shit, I have one of those splinters jabbed into my heart and bleeding me dry. Hael flips Oscar off, but he ignores him. “Leigh is obsessed with image and wealth; we’re going to take away everything she has and force her into poverty, where she belongs.” Oscar’s glasses are specked with droplets of mist which, really, is the dirtiest I’ve ever seen them.
“We have some other interesting twists planned, but her level of narcissism is astounding,” Callum comments, standing on the railing with very little effort. Bet he could perform an entire dance routine up there without falling. “We have pictures of a dozen girls and boys she’s sold off in the past; we were going to plaster them on her walls and torture her a bit.” Cal cringes slightly, reminding me of the night that Danny died, how upset he was. He told me, in his own words, that he wasn’t upset about killing the guy, only in that he did it spur of the moment and put us all at risk. At the time, I thought he was bluffing. I don’t think that anymore. “But I don’t think it’ll upset her the way we want it to.”
“Let’s go raid her wine cellar,” Aaron suggests, lounging in an Adirondack chair. “Let’s break some of her shit. Let’s trash her fucking house. Did you see the way she looked at us yesterday? She was terrified we were going to mess up her perfect life.”
