Page 136 of Anarchy at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 4)
“The rich people in this town are so fucked-up,” I groan, rubbing at my face with my hand. “What if one of their teachers is a pedo?”
“What if one of the teachers they have now is like Vaughn?” Aaron retorts, and I groan, sagging against the wall. He takes me into his arms, cast be damned. “Look, this isn’t permanent. It’s for now. We will figure this out. We always do. Besides, once Victor gets his inheritance, we can do anything, Bernie. Our methods, that money …” He trails off as I rest my forehead against his chest.
“I hate this,” I murmur, but I know he’s right. I know he is.
“Me, too,” he says, holding me there until Hael finally snaps out of his own funk and appears just in time to smack me in the ass.
“Better get moving,” he says, slipping past us and up the stairs.
I pull myself away from Aaron, our eyes meeting in a look of shared pain and frustration.
We’ll do this, but it’s going to piss us both off.
Gods help the next person who gets in our way.I thought I wouldn’t cry, but I did. Especially when Heather looked at me after I explained that we were going to play a game, that she was going to call herself Hannah for a while. “To keep the bad guys from finding me, huh?” was how she replied to that. Because kids are always smarter than we give them credit for.
Shit, I’m seventeen and people like Sara Young tell me to lay off the caffeine, like I’m still a child.
“A bus?” I ask, as we pull into the driveway of a mansion in the Oak Park neighborhood. Jesus. Even ritzier than Oak River Heights. The entire place stinks of desperate wealth. I’ve always wondered if the rich have no souls, if they have to horde things and hurt others to feel anything at all. If they really did have souls, they wouldn’t crave so much pomp and circumstance.
I wore a special shirt today that says Eat the Rich.
Shit, I even left my raggedy winter coat open so Trinity could read the text without issue.
“A bus,” Victor confirms as Hael parks the Bronco in front of the garage doors of the house. Trinity is waiting on the porch, looking annoyed. She’s dressed like a typical snow bunny in a belted white down coat, white pants, and knee-high boots trimmed in fur that I’m sure isn’t faux.
“Let’s just drive ourselves,” Hael groans as I shift on Callum’s lap in the back seat. There are only five seats in the Bronco, so we made do. Either Vic thinks it’s too cold for the Harley—doubtful—or he just didn’t want to leave his metal baby in Trinity’s driveway.
“Get out,” Vic says, looking over his shoulder just once to make sure we all get the message. Play nice. I scowl at him as he exits the vehicle, moving around to the back to retrieve our bags.
“Did she know we were all coming?” Cal muses as he studies Trinity out the window. She’s looking straight at me, her hatred penetrating the glass. I ignore her and turn back to Callum.
“You mean, did she know that I was coming?” I ask, and then I slide off of his lap as Hael opens the door for me. He takes my hand as I hop out in my heeled black hiking boots. Yeah, they do make those. But only badass bitches can wear them.
I light up a cigarette as I stand there in the icy morning, a hint of frost in the air. It might snow. Doesn’t often in Springfield. Or, it used to not snow. Climate change and all that.
“She knew,” Victor tells me, striding past with his bag in his hand. I watch him go, glancing over at Trinity. She’s an Oak Valley Prep girl, through and through. She knows about Havoc, even if she wants to pretend that she’s above us somehow. Likely, she even knows what we did to Donald. The rumor mill has churned out stories of the boys’ brutality for years.
I rub at the bare spot on my finger where my wedding ring is supposed to sit. It’s on a chain under my shirt instead, but I’m most definitely not going to pretend like the promise of a divorce is enough to keep me away from Vic.
“Eventually, I’m going to get her alone in a room …” I start and Aaron gives me a tight smile.
“Just pretend like you’ve fallen in love with your ex again and see what she does. It shouldn’t be that hard to fake it, right?” His smile gets a bit wider, a bit more boy next door mixed with tattoos and bullshit. I grin back at him, moving around to get my bag when I see that one of the guys has already taken it and loaded it into the bus.
