Page 43 of Anarchy at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 4)
“Is this what she did to you?” I ask, feeling my jaw clench against my own stupidity. Sure, I pulled the trigger on her in the cemetery, made the commitment to kill her, but she was a step ahead of me. I won’t soon forget that. It’s why I feel like such a coward, like I don’t belong in Havoc at all.
Not a single man in this house would’ve hesitated.
“Thankfully it never got that far,” he tells me as I use the little key that’s attached to the cuffs to undo them. I leave them on his wrists though; the metal is warm from his skin as he touches both hands to my hips. “I just don’t like feeling helpless. Mostly, I was worried about you.”
“With good reason, it seems,” I murmur, thinking of that awful moment between life and death, that split-second when Aaron pulled the trigger before Kali. I keep smoking my cigarette, leaning over to tap the ash into the tray on the nightstand. As I do, I grab my phone.
There are plenty of messages for me, but I ignore them all. I don’t give a shit about anyone that isn’t located within these four walls. Instead, I pull up Spotify and start a random playlist. The very first thing that comes on is “WAP” by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion.
I raise an eyebrow.
“There’s at least one ho in this house,” I murmur, sliding off of Aaron and off the bed. Coincidentally, I stand directly where Kali’s ghost sits, our forms melding into one beautiful monster. The loose boxers finally slide down my hips and hit the floor as I plug my phone in and turn the volume up.
Aaron sits up, getting a cigarette for himself. He snags a bottle of rum from the nightstand, too. Not sure where it came from or how long it’s been there, but who gives a shit? Alcohol is alcohol. He swigs a huge mouthful of it and passes it over, watching as I down several shots worth in a single drink.
“Come back here, Bernadette,” Aaron tells me, reaching out for my hand and pulling me back to the bed. He takes the rum bottle away, setting it aside as he half-covers my body with his, making sure to keep his weight on his forearms so he doesn’t hurt me. I touch my hands to either side of his face, savoring the rough feel of stubble against my palms. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll fuck you into the mattress until you come all over my dick.”
I snort and shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move.
“Go get us something to eat,” I purr, licking the sweat from the edge of his jaw. “I’m starving.” Aaron smiles and sits up, swiping his hand over his face. The way he looks down at me, handcuffs dangling from his wrists, I can tell he meant what he said.
“Stoner,” he murmurs with a smile, the air in the room tainted with a tentative sense of relief. Like, here we are, we survived that.
And yet … I know we’re on the precipice of something much bigger, something much more dangerous.
Evil is evil, but evil with money is … relentless.
Aaron stands up, yanking his sweatpants into place and heading for the door. He leaves it cracked, a finger of light cutting the bed in half and illuminating the pink dragon tattoo on my hip. I stare at it for a minute, sitting up and then turning over to dig in the drawer of the nightstand.
“Bodak Yellow”—also by Cardi B—starts to play, and even though I curl my lip a bit, I let it keep going. I’m more of a metalcore kind of girl. I actually beat up a metalhead bitch last year for telling me that metalcore was nothing more than metal without complexity. Pretty sure I smashed her face into the bathroom sink. That’s sort of my signature move, the head-smashing I mean, not the sink part.
I snort as I drag out a vibrator from the drawer, flicking the switch to make sure the batteries are good. A pleasant buzz takes over my hand as I press my fingers to the tip with a sigh. One orgasm is nice, but two is even better.
While I wait for Aaron, I settle into the mountain of pillows and close my eyes. The vibrator slips between my thighs as I rock my hips against it, imagining that the boys are all in the room with me, just a tangle of hands and mouths and cocks. That’s what I want: all of them at the same time.
If Cardi and Megan aren’t afraid to be whores, maybe I should take some inspiration from “WAP” and just roll with it? Nothing wrong with liking sex anyway. As long as it’s consensual, I don’t see why the rest of the world should give a fuck what I do.
