Page 133 of Anarchy at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 4)
Family.
We’re just one, big, fucked-up family.
It’s how I like it, how I always want it to be.
Brittany flips her hair at me as she saunters off, heading for the hideous custom pink BMW that daddy bought her. At the last minute, she spins around and runs back to me, throwing her arms around my neck and pressing her lips against mine.
There’s an immediate reaction in me, one of recoil and violent discomfort, but I manage to keep it together, carefully extracting her and pushing her back a step. I hate being touched without my permission. Maybe that’s why I became such a whore? Because then I could just keep giving permission, and I never had to worry that someone was taking something I didn’t want to give.
“Don’t get so excited so quick,” I push Brittany back a step and level a look on her frowning face. Shit, shit, shit. Even now, even with as much as I hate her and as much as I don’t want to be touched, I feel sorry for her. “I haven’t decided if we’re getting back together or not.” Jesus, that lie hurt my mouth on the way out.
“Because of that girl, Bernadette Blackbird,” Brittany spits, and I shrug my shoulders loosely. “Her stepdad was the GMP’s pet cop, you know that, right?” She looks up at me as I raise both brows. Fuck. Actually, I did not know that. I mean, we suspected it, but we didn’t know.
Guess we do now.
I wonder what other information Brittany Burr might be able to feed us?
“I did,” I reply carefully, sweeping some of Brittany’s hair back from her face and wishing I didn’t have to pretend like that. The only girl I want to touch is the little spitfire who’s managed to hold my attention for a decade. Blackbird. “Now, run on home and chatter to all your little friends about me. Go on, I know that’s what you do.”
Brittany smiles at me in a way that I think is supposed to be seductive. I return the look, keeping my mind focused on Bernadette so it’ll come across properly.
As soon as Brittany leaves, I dial up Bernie’s number; I’ve thought of an adjustment to our plan.
“Hey baby,” Bernie purrs, and I can just imagine her rolling her eyes at her own words. I grin in response. “Everything going okay?”
“New plan,” I say, licking my lips as I watch Brittany get into her car and pull out of the parking lot. “Tell Callum not to let her see his face, and then get some of the guys to deal with Brittany instead. If we play this right, we can convince her she’s in the hands of the GMP.”
There’s a pause as Bernie relays the information to Vic.
I know why he didn’t want to do this to begin with: Brittany needs to know she’s being punished by Havoc. The whole city needs to know that.
But he’s also not stupid enough to overlook her use as a pawn.
“Why?” Vic’s voice is dark as he takes over the phone call, and I exhale, swinging the keys to the Firebird around my finger.
“Brittany just dropped a bit of juicy intel into my lap. If we play her right, I have a feeling there’s a whole fuckload more of it. You should’ve seen the way she melted when I lied to her about the DNA results; she’s too easy to manipulate.”
I stay on the phone as I make my way over to the car, waiting as Victor contemplates what I’ve just proposed. If he agrees, he’ll text Callum, and we’ll move forward with the new plan. As of right now, Brittany should be pulling up to the stoplight at the corner of Fuller and Parrish. Cal should be rising up from the backseat like a specter, hands reaching for her neck … He’ll knock Brittany out, take over control of the vehicle, and that’s that.
“Okay,” Vic finally agrees. “But if this backfires on us, it’s your ass.” He pauses a minute for dramatic effect—typical Channing behavior—and then hands the phone back to Bernadette. As soon as I get home, I’m going to beg her to put some tall heels on for me again, so I can fuck away the nightmare of imagining what’s happening to Brittany.
I pause next to the Firebird and unlock it as Bernie’s voice pours through the line like black silk.
Even if I don’t always know who I am and what I want, I do know one thing: cars are in my fucking blood.
Cars … and Bernadette Blackbird.Bernadette Blackbird“Pack your shit,” Vic says as I crack my eyes open and find him sitting on the edge of the bed. Hael is still passed out naked beside me, sunlight streaming across his bare ass. Fuck, you could bounce a quarter off that. I bite my lip as I sit up with a groan, rubbing at my forehead.
