Page 171 of Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 5)
“Roger that, boss,” Hael murmurs, hitting the gas. As the Camaro speeds up, taking the curving, gravel road at a much faster speed than I’d normally be okay with, Victor dials up Aaron in the Bronco.
“Stop Maxwell’s car before he gets too close to the gate.”
Legally, Maxwell Barrasso cannot bring anymore than four of his private security members on campus with him—two guards for him and two for Ophelia. The rest are waiting just outside the gate where the VGTF are, as we speak, getting ready to descend.
If Maxwell gets to his motorcade too soon, only one of two things can happen: we die dripping with lead as Vic suggested, or he and Ophelia escape with my little sister tucked between them. Either one of those scenarios is unacceptable.
“On it,” Aaron says, rocketing off down a side road that disappears into the woods. It’s a service road for the groundskeepers, that much I do know from looking at the maps on Oscar’s iPad. I also remember that the narrow, pothole-filled road curves around to cut off this gravel road before it reaches the gate.
“Come on, come on,” I whisper as I hear Aaron’s ragged breathing through the phone. Just ahead of us, I can see the pair of sleek black Maybach sedans. Maxwell, Ophelia, and Heather are likely in one while several of the guards are in the other as a decoy. We can’t shoot at them, of course, because it isn’t worth the risk of hitting my sister. Even if we shot the tires out, there’s the risk of causing an accident that kills Heather along with everyone else.
“Almost there,” Aaron breathes, and then I see it, the white and blue Bronco shooting out of the woods and hitting the small hump of dirt that marks the end of the access road. The SUV flies into the air and crashes down in front of the two black sedans, cutting off their route and trapping them between the low stone walls that line either side of the main road for small stretches at a time.
They have no place to go but to use the same path Aaron’s Bronco took, down the side road and toward the woods. They reverse and then take off, and we follow. But Aaron’s bought us enough time to swing the Camaro in front of them.
The Eldorado blocks the road from behind.
Trapping them.
Doors open and men in suits appear, armed with assault rifles.
Heather is wrenched out of one of the doors, her arm gripped tightly in the hand of a large, white man that carries the same generic profile as his son, James. The frown on his face is legendary; his temper piqued as he shoves the barrel of a gun right up against the side of Heather’s head, burying the metal in her temple as an involuntary growl slips past my red-painted lips.
“Move these fucking cars out of the way or I’ll blow the little bitch’s head off right here and now.”
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Callum whispers, his voice carrying in the silent tension that stretches through the woods, broken up only by the slight ticking and cooling of the vehicles and the ragged pants of our breathing as we climb out behind the Camaro, using the car as a blockade.
My creepy nightmare boy is somehow perched on the trunk of the car. He moves like a shadow, knocking the gun away from my sister’s head just in time to send Maxwell’s first shot wild. Callum grapples with the man as a scream breaks from my throat.
“Run!” I shout, and Heather’s little body twitches like it’s been plugged into an electrical outlet. She takes off for the woods as gunfire rings out from the direction of the Eldorado and Oscar uses an assault rifle he got from the trunk to take careful, calculated shots at the men emerging from the cars. Their own weapons are raised and ready to use; they don’t hesitate to fire back.
We’re about to have an old-fashioned shoot-out.
My eyes follow Heather as she starts for the trees, but my greatest fears are almost immediately realized when Ophelia grabs her arm. Instead of yanking her back to the car, Ophelia continues into the woods, my sister dragging along behind her.
I almost take off after them, but Victor stops me with a hand clamped onto my upper arm. His eyes meet mine, and I hear the very distinct ring of an order in his next words. My king is telling me what to do, my god, the leader of Havoc who has no problem sharing his throne or his boys with me.
“Do not leave this Camaro unless it’s on fire, do you understand me?” He shakes me once when I don’t answer right away, torn between listening to him and taking off after my sister. It’s dangerous though, to run that bit of green between the cover of the car and the trees. I’m good, but Victor is better; we both know it. He has the greatest chance of getting out of here without being gunned down. “Bernadette.”
