Page 64 of Anarchy at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 4)
“I can’t believe you just got away with that,” I whisper, but my sister’s already shaking her head. She knows as well as I do that this isn’t over. Pamela is like a black widow; she’s more than happy to bide her time in the shadows until you’re thoroughly caught in her web.
“I didn’t. But it’s okay.” Pen’s eyes glitter as she hits the top landing and turns to look at me. “Bernie … if I weren’t around, do you think you’d be okay?” She smiles at me and reaches out to cup the side of my face. “You’re so much stronger than I am, you know that?”
I bat her hand away. I bat it away because I feel like I’ll be able to have her touch me like that forever, like my sister is as permanent as the sun and endless as the moon. If I’d known then that we only had a few weeks left together, I’d have thrown my arms around her and held her so close that it’d be her turn to see what it’s like to be suffocated by a sister’s love.
“You’re being weird,” I gripe, pushing a loose strand of hair back from my face. “If you weren’t around, where would you go?”
Pen just smiles at me and drops her hand to her side.
“Anywhere,” she breathes, gaze distant and unfocused. “Anywhere but here.”
Later that night, after she gets home from the party, my mother pretends not to notice that her husband is in my sister’s bedroom. That was Pen’s punishment for a stolen dress, a blind eye to rape.
After her suicide, I replayed that conversation in my mind over and over again.
Anywhere but here.
I’d thought she intended to kill herself all along, but what if she were planning on leaving instead?
Neil would’ve preferred to keep Penelope around, I bet. She was his little toy after all.
But what about Pamela?
The thing about true darkness is that it doesn’t just disappear forever. It sits, crouched and waiting at the bottom of your soul. As soon as it finds an opening, it springs and sinks its teeth in.
That’s what’s happened to me. Every time I look in the mirror, I see my mother’s face staring back at me. I see Kali. I see my own cowardice, my own shortcomings.
I’ve found it, that core of hatred in the deepest part of me. This time, it’s not just about pushing it down and learning to live with it. This time, I have to learn how to destroy it for good.
Because if I don’t, then that list with the crossed-out names won’t mean a damn thing.Four days later, Kali’s ghost is still there. But I’ve gotten used to her presence. I see her on the ceiling when Hael is above me, thrusting deep and moaning against the side of my neck. I see her when Aaron and I sit on the couch together, touching like we’ll break if we don’t get enough of one another.
I see her when I’m playing a new videogame with Heather or brushing Kara’s hair for her. I even see her when Oscar and I squabble with each other, the tension that’s building between us coming close to its boiling point. Fuck, she’s there when Callum tries to teach me how to dance or shows me the best way to break a man’s fingers.
She’s just there. Always. And I’m not sure how much longer I can stand it.
I pointedly ignore her as I sit on the back patio, using the sunlight to do my makeup with a portable mirror. I’ve never done makeup for a black-tie event, and even though I watched hours of tutorials this week, I’ve decided that I don’t give a flying fuck. I’m going with a full Prescott face—long lashes, dark liner, heavy lips. If Ophelia Mars and her fancy friends don’t like it, they can get fucked.
“I’ve never been to a gala where someone was trying to kill me,” I say and then pause, gesturing at Victor with the length of a makeup brush. He watches me shadow my lids with smoky color, drinking in the sight like it’s his most favorite view in the world, like he could climb Everest and the view wouldn’t be half as good as this. “Well, I mean, if you don’t count Snow Day.”
Vic snorts.
“Don’t call that rachet ass shit a gala. Anyway, this isn’t my first wealthy-asshole party, I’ll be honest. When I was little and cute, Ophelia would sometimes parade me around in front of her friends.” Vic looks away sharply for a moment and makes a sound of disbelief under his breath. “Considering her current business interests, I’m just glad I got out of there before I was rented out.” He nods his chin at me, indicating the robe. “Is the dress under that? Or your naked body?” The way he smiles at me, I can tell he’d be fine with either option.
