Page 86 of Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 5)
The sound of church bells tolling signals the end of the lunch period and Heather starts to bounce on her toes. She’s always been a stickler for rules. So, like, pretty much the exact opposite of me.
“The bells mean we have to go,” she starts, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at me. “But … I really like it here, Bernie.” I smile and bend down for another hug, letting her squeeze me as tightly as she wants. Like I said, you never know how precious a hug is until you can’t hold the person you love anymore. “Thank you for sending me here.” Heather releases me and starts to move away, pausing at the last second before glancing back at me. “Can we go see Penelope’s grave soon? I want to tell her I love her.”
My throat closes up, but I force myself to rise to my feet, nodding when I find that it’s become almost impossible to speak.
“We’ll go,” Aaron answers for me, reaching down to take my hand and curling his fingers through mine. “I promise.”
With another wave, Heather takes off, catching up to Kara and Ashley as they disappear inside of another ivy-covered brick building. Sending them here was the right choice, one that we made just in time. Who knows what the GMP might’ve done if we hadn’t removed the girls from their reach?
“Are you okay?” Aaron asks me, but I just turn and let him fold me into his arms.
“I’m okay,” I reply, nuzzling into that special place between his neck and shoulder, feeling his warmth blaze through me. “But I’ll be much better after we kick Mason Miller’s ass.”
He threads his fingers through my hair, presses a kiss against my forehead, and then leads me across the campus of what’s soon to be our new school.
From Prescott Senior High to Oak Valley Preparatory Academy.
Night and day.
At the very least, it’ll be an interesting social experiment. At best, it’s the start of a whole new motherfucking life.
For all of us.
For our fucked-up little Havoc family.Tom Muller is the same sleazy-ass salesman who leered at me during that very first breakfast meeting with Ophelia. That was also the same day that Victor practically gave me an orgasm under the table and then chased me into the upstairs bathroom to finish the job.
Tom Muller is also the fucker who stabbed a shotgun into Aaron’s crotch and threatened to sell him to perverts—oh, and all of that right after he aimed a gun at his son’s head, a son that he either abused himself or allowed his fucked-up friends to abuse. Maybe even collected money for the privilege.
I’m scowling already, but Aaron is shaking with fury. The first thing he does is slip up behind Tom like a shadow and slam his palm into the surface of the countertop where the fucker’s nursing what looks like his third drink of the night. Tom startles violently, dark eyes flicking over to Aaron before drifting back to the rest of us.
“Hello asshole,” Aaron hisses out, curling the fingers of his other hand around the back of Tom’s neck. He looks about this fucking close to slamming the older man’s head down as hard as he can, just to see if he can’t crack his skull.
“I’ve got a protective detail,” Tom blurts, gesturing with his beer and spilling a good portion of it across the pink laminate surface. We’re inside Wesley’s, our usual drive-in haunt, the one that sits across the tracks from the Fuller High drive-in. During freshman year, my boys—before they were the Havoc Boys—would come here to toss Molotov cocktails into the backseats of the Fuller football team’s cars.
Aww, nostalgia.
Too bad none of that will help Tom any.
“What’s your point?” Victor adds, sliding in on Tom’s other side. “Do you think we care? That we couldn’t kill you and make it look like an accident?”
“Besides,” Aaron adds, blending his voice into Victor’s in a way that just comes too naturally to be faked. They might disagree a lot, and they might fight over me a bit, but they love each other regardless. They’re family. They were always meant to be family. “That’s not a protective detail, you moron. They’re fucking tailing you.”
Aaron releases Tom roughly enough that the asshole splashes his drink all over his lap. Aaron takes the stool on Tom’s right while Victor occupies the one on his left.
Behind me, Hael, Oscar, and Callum grab a table, and I join them, sitting on the side closest to Tom so that I can hear and see everything. My eyes scan the room, but there aren’t a ton of people in here right now. The few patrons still milling about are either well-trained Prescott High kids who know better than to bother us, or crew members.
“Remember when I told you that you’d die choking on blood?” Aaron asks casually, ordering a strawberry milkshake and managing to look like a total asshole as he slides the metal straw between his lips. “You are this close to realizing that fate.”
