Page 132 of Anarchy at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 4)
“Look,” I start with a sigh, knowing that I’m supposed to be here playing a part. I’m fucking it up royally, too. Victor does a better job with Trinity. Bernadette did a similarly terrible job with James. My lips twitch in an almost smile as I take another drag on the cigarette. The genuine expression of pleasure on my face helps seal the lie. “I have to tell you something. You’re gonna be pissed, but it is what it is.”
Brittany leans into me, wrapping her arms around my bicep in a way that she used to do when we were dating. I think about Oscar, about him being a goddamn virgin. I mean, it’s not that weird to be one at seventeen, but … I make fun of him because I’m envious. He has control that I never had.
“What?” she asks, her voice breathy in a way that I used to find attractive, but which now just sort of annoys the shit out of me. I take the cigarette between two fingers and lower it away from my mouth, letting the smoke trail in a gray arc behind it.
“The DNA test,” I start, readying the lie to my lips. Bernie’s face last night, when Victor and Oscar laid out this part of the plan, man but it was priceless. She was furious. She might actually like you, eh, Hael? “Oscar tampered with the results; the kid’s mine.”
Brittany’s face lights up in a way that almost makes me feel bad. Almost. I mean, the idiot is leveling rape against me when she’s the one that panted after me like a bitch in heat. I wish I found more pleasure in destroying other people. Really, the only thing that gets me off is when I destroy myself.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Brittany finally says, her cheeks reddening even further. This is, like, a dream come true for her, but she at least has to pretend to be pissed off about it. I hate telling this lie, hate it, hate it, fucking hate it. It’ll help protect us though, help protect Bernadette. Brittany will be more pliant, more willing to please.
After this … it’s all up to Cal. I don’t do torture. Explosives, sure. But not torture.
“We need to sit down and discuss what we’re going to do,” I say with a long sigh, like I’m just another Fuller High asshole who made a mistake and found himself with a baby on the way. It must seem like the end of the world, to people who’ve never seen the edge for themselves. “Maybe we could get together and talk?”
“When?” she asks, looking around, like she’s trying to make sure nobody’s overheard us. If I were her, I’d be doing the exact opposite, trying to make sure that everyone around me knew where I was headed. Just in case I disappeared. But, like I said, she just doesn’t think that way.
“Soon,” I breathe, letting my shoulders slump. Tampering with Brittany is going to be dangerous. If that balding asshole she calls a father even has an inkling that anything is wrong with his baby girl, I’m the first person he’s going to come after. “I’ll text you and let you know.”
To maintain control, you have to keep hard-and-fast rules. It’s the only way we can push back the GMP and hold this town. And trust me: Springfield is better off for it.
“Oh, like you’ll text me and expect that I’ll be at your beck and call?” she snaps back, making me remember all over again why I dislike her so much. Spoiled rotten princess, I think, grinding my teeth. I just need to keep her here for a few minutes longer to make sure Cal has time to break into her car and hide in the backseat.
“My schedule is a bit all over the place,” I snap back, knowing that I should control my temper but struggling with it, nonetheless. “Things are getting bad in town. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, holed up in that castle on a hill you call a house.”
Brittany just narrows her eyes at me.
“I’ve noticed,” she says, and then shakes her head. “But you have to admit, you and your stupid gang are at least partially responsible for that.” I sigh heavily, but what can I do? She’s not quite as dumb as I thought. Suspicion glints in her coffee-colored gaze. “Look, I’ll give you two weeks to get your shit together before I tell my dad you lied about our baby.” The way she cups her belly makes me sick. Whose kid is she carrying again? Some football player’s? I’ve already forgotten.
I’m just relieved as fuck that it isn’t actually mine.
Nah, the only girl I want to have a baby with is Bernadette. I figure she’ll have to have one for each of us, so we’ll have like, five kids. Five kids, five dads, one mom. Most of the guys on our crew don’t understand this arrangement. They’d rather they were the one with five women on the side. The thing is, when you find the right woman, you know it. And when that woman is the same person your brothers love, it all falls together.
