Page 18 of Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 3)
I have to play for our side and win.
Aaron’s footsteps on the staircase draw the attention of all three guests, but unlike Victor, he doesn’t bother smiling when he sees them. He’s not very good at playing politics, Aaron isn’t.
“The kids are really enjoying your movie theater,” he says to Coraleigh instead, looking at her like even that simple statement is a threat. “Especially Alyssa. They were all wondering if they might use the pool later, too.”
“Oh, well, we don’t really like kids in the pool area,” Leigh says with a strained laugh, downing a glass of what looks to be high-end vodka. She winces a bit, but she doesn’t chase it with anything. I’d say I respected her for that, but it’s hard to praise someone who sells kids to perverts for anything at all. “Marcus keeps his rare plants in there.”
Is she … okay, fuck, this chick is next-level insane.
“What kids?” Ophelia asks, giving Coraleigh a strange look. “Who’s Alyssa?” She looks from my disgraced social worker and then back to me, her raven hair plaited at the base of her neck, her cream-colored dress designer. A necklace of diamonds sparkles at her pale throat as she reaches up two fingers to stroke at them absently.
I don’t know about you, but that looks like a tell to me, same way her son rubs his chin.
Tom accepts a mixed drink of some sort from Coraleigh while David slumps to the sofa nearest me and Vic. I can feel my husband’s eyes taking his mettle from here. If Victor’s looking for a challenge, he won’t find one in David Benedict.
Benedict. His last name is different than Tom’s, which is why I never made this connection before. David must have his mother’s last name or something.
“Don’t worry about the kids,” Aaron tells Ophelia, pausing just a few feet from her. The way they look at each other, I can tell they’ve met plenty of times before. “What you should be worrying about is what you’re going to have for dinner. Because you’re leaving.”
“We just got here,” Tom says, stirring his drink and taking a sip. He stares at me from over the top of his glass. “It’s a long-ass drive. Besides, we usually stay the night.”
Ophelia turns away from Aaron, dismissing him as a threat. But only an idiot turns their back on a mother bear, you know what I mean?
In an instant, the entire atmosphere in the room shifts. Aaron slips a knife out from beneath the waistband of his jean shorts and presses it hard against the front of Ophelia’s neck. To her credit, she doesn’t panic or scream or even gasp when the blade bites in and draws a single ruby red pearl.
“What the hell?” Tom exclaims, lacking the exceptional genteel of his lover. His swamp-green eyes widen with fear as he takes a step back, sloshing what I think is a mojito all down the front of his suit and cursing. David’s eyes go wide, and I see him swallow down a lump of fear, his gaze flicking to me.
“Oh, God,” Leigh groans, covering her face with her hands as Victor rises slowly from the sofa to stare his mother down. From the shadows, Callum, Oscar, and Hael creep, weapons at the ready. In a move that’s purely for dramatic effect, Hael shoves a new magazine into his pistol and grins.
“What is this? A coup?” Ophelia asks with a tinkling laugh. I move to stand beside Victor, for once fully aware of the plan. Sometimes, I don’t think the boys even mean to leave me out; they just work so well together that they can plan shit on the fly.
“No, mother,” Vic says, reaching out to touch her necklace. His flint-like eyes move up to her face. It’s fascinating to see the two of them nose-to-nose like this. Makes me realize how strong his mother’s side of the gene pool is. Likely, if we had a kid, they’d look just like the two of them. “This is a beautiful necklace. I guess you brought it as a wedding gift? You know, since you didn’t get me and Bernie shit.”
“You call that a wedding?” Ophelia chokes out with another laugh, this one much more caustic. “At that termite-infested nightmare of a house?” She reaches up as if to push the blade away, but Aaron presses the knife in harder, turning the ruby pearl into a stream that slithers down the front of her neck.
With slow, careful movements, Victor removes the necklace from his mother’s throat and then turns to me. He kisses the shell of my ear as that musk and amber smell of his curls around me like smoke.
“I’m going to give you the world,” he promises, fastening the necklace and then stepping back so suddenly that I’m left feeling dizzy and breathless. Vic turns to Aaron and nods. “You can drop the knife,” he says, and, with some great reluctance, Aaron does.
