Page 113 of Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 5)
Motherfucker.
“We’ve hidden them from the GMP,” I say, taking another sip of my coffee. “Wouldn’t you do the same, if they were your sisters?”
Sara’s mouth pinches, and I know this goes against her clear-cut rules of what’s right and what’s wrong, but eventually, she just sighs and gives me a look.
“You used your contacts to get them into Oak River, didn’t you?”
I say nothing, but fuck this woman for being perceptive beyond belief.
“Well, after failing to track down Aaron’s mother, I’m starting to put together a picture, one where the care of two minor children are in the care of yet another minor child.” She glances across the café toward where Aaron sits, his mouth in a pretty sulk, a chestnut curl flopped onto his forehead. A minor … child. With his jacket off, and his white button-down undone at the top, showing just the faintest dusting of chest hair. Child. Hilarious. Sara looks back at me. “Besides that, CPS is aware that Heather has been living with you until recently.”
CPS. Child Protective Services. An organization I stopped trusting the day Coraleigh left Penelope and me with the Kushners. I’d rather die than give Heather or Kara or Ashley up to a system that doesn’t care.
“They’re safe,” I tell Sara, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over the front of my stupid ass prep school uniform. It’s like, as soon as Oak Valley started using this hideous Catholic schoolgirl rip-off uniforms, I swear to fuck, every other school within three hundred miles started doing the same.
Jesus H. Christ, but I hate mimics.
Just because one prep school does it, doesn’t meant the rest of them need to start going all Single White Female and trying to wear Oak Valley’s pompous skin.
“They might be safe, but you and your husband will need to legally challenge Heather’s custody with the court. Because you’re emancipated, you have a chance to fight this. Aaron … is in a much worse position than that.”
“Sara—” I start, ready to go full fucking Prescott on her. If there’s one thing I cannot be reasoned about, it’s the care of those goddamn kids. I’d rather take off and run, forgo the inheritance and the future of Prescott and even leave the pedo ring in place to protect my family. But, interestingly enough, it seems like I might not have to do that.
Having finished her coffee, Sara stands up and looks down at me with a curious expression on her face, like something about me has managed to surprise her. Guess she’s managed to surprise me, too, because I almost, sort of, kind of like her a little bit. Almost.
“Anyway, dealing with minor child placement and custody issues is not a part of my job description.” She gives a small sigh and shakes her hands out, like she can’t believe she’s actually doing this. “Send me a picture of the girls today, so I can see that they’re alright and I’ll let CPS do their own work.”
I let out a sharp exhale as Sara turns away, collecting Constantine near the front door before slipping outside and heading down the street. I stay where I am, waiting for the familiar flicker of shadows, the chorus of musky male scents, and the scraping of chair legs on the floor.
When I look up, I’m surrounded by all five Havoc Boys.
“How did it go?” Aaron asks, the arms of his shirt pushed up to reveal corded forearms dressed in ink. I finish my coffee and set it aside as Cal steals my croissant and proceeds to eat it, crouched in his chair instead of seated on it. Other café patrons are staring, but screw them because they drink cat shit coffee and Cal is a hot fuck. Also, he’s loyal and protective and an incredible dancer and he’s all fucking mine.
“Actually,” I say, glancing over at Oscar on my right, Hael seated beside him. Victor stays standing, leaning his monstrous body up against the window behind him. “It went surprisingly well. For the first time since this all started, I’m wondering if things aren’t going to work out okay after all.”
“They will,” Oscar purrs, a nightmarish smile lighting on those pretty, peremptory lips of his. “Provided we can come up with a plan for Maxwell and Ophelia.”
And he’s right.
Because even if Trinity is playing along for now, and Ophelia has backed off, and Maxwell is quiet … this isn’t over yet.
In fact, it’s far fucking from it.“Was that really our first day?” I ask as I flop down on one of the hideous gray sofas in the living room, trying and failing to not appreciate the view outside our wall of windows. It’s pretty much fucking awesome, seeing the whole of the Willamette Valley sparkling in the distance like a handful of jewels across an ebony blanket. “Because it felt like a fucking year. Also, I’m probably going to fail every class I’m signed up for except maybe gym.” I scrub both hands over my face, dressed in a pair of BlackCraft Cult sweats with a Ouija board pattern and a tank top that says I Have Witchcraft on my Lips. Being in love is its own kind of magic, so I figure it’s not a total lie.
