Page 31 of Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 5)
“Fucking hell,” Vic murmurs as he and Oscar look up at Cal, waiting at the top of the stairs for me. “You look like you got hit by a truck.”
“Piano wire,” Cal explains, his voice even darker and huskier than usual. He closes his eyes as I come back around the peninsula, snatching Vic’s bottle of whiskey off the surface of the table. Callum doesn’t need to be sober right now; the rest of us can hold down the fort just fine.
Besides, it’s unlikely the GMP would attack with the house surrounded by feds—ones that I’m quite sure are not in Maxwell Barrasso’s pocket. Sara Young … she’s the type of person that cannot be bought. And if Brittany is telling Hael about a raid by the VGTF … well, it isn’t for us, now is it? Not after yesterday, not with the plea deal on the table, not after all that questioning.
Sara was surprised that Havoc was able to defend Prescott High. She most definitely wasn’t prepping a search warrant and organizing a formal raid.
“A garrote?” Oscar clarifies and Cal gives a brisk nod, rising to his feet and looming over the railing in a way that makes me nervous. He’s shaking slightly, and I’m terrified he’s going to pass out and tumble over the side to the hallway below. Behind me, I hear the couch springs squeak as Aaron sits up, swiping both hands over his bleary face.
“A garrote,” Callum confirms as I glance back at him, his blue eyes staring down and into mine. He sees right through me, to all the tender, delicate parts underneath. On the outside, I know my shit. I’m a Prescott bitch through and through, but on the in … there’s something about my own innocence that refuses to die. Cal recognizes that. He recognizes it because he’s a monster, but he’s my monster. That’s all that matters. “One of Maxwell’s enforcers was at the school—Russ Bauer, I believe it was.” He coughs, closing his eyes against the pain as he rests his hands against the railing again. Callum Park is no stranger to pain, physical or otherwise. “Sometimes pain is pretty, to the people who have too much of it,” he told me once. If that’s true—and I’m starting to think it is—then I guess that’s why he’s so fucking beautiful to me.
“Figures,” Victor growls, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up at the sound. I would not want to be on the receiving end of that anger. He cocks the shotgun for emphasis. Or maybe just because he’s pissed off with nobody to take that meticulously controlled temper out on. “You get him?”
Cal chuckles softly, as if anything about this situation could be construed as funny. That’s just one of the things I like about him though, how he can find humor in the macabre.
“Let me take a shower, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”
He waits for me to come up the stairs, accepting the joint and the lighter I pass over to him and lighting up with a raised brow in Aaron’s general direction.
“Don’t be a smartass. The girls are at Oak River, and school shootings most definitely break my no-smoking inside rule.”
Callum pulls away and turns toward the door to the bathroom as I follow after him. He strips his hoodie off and then lets it fall to the floor with a wet slap. That’s how soaked in blood it is. Red spatters the walls in tiny droplets.
My skin prickles with recognition as the other boys come up the stairs behind me. A lesser woman would run. Me, I accept the joint when Cal hands it back to me, ashing it in the sink, and then taking a long drag.
“Give us the abbreviated version for now,” Vic says, leaning against the doorjamb as I move into the bathroom behind Cal. He sits on the toilet, hands shaking as he goes to remove his shoes. When I step forward and offer to help, he doesn’t refuse. Instead, his blue eyes lift to mine in quiet strength.
I feel him so fucking hard in that moment; it’s inexplicable. This kind of connection, it only comes along a few times in infinity.
“Thank you,” Cal whispers, reaching his hand up to rub at the gash in the front of his throat. “I have to say, that man was worth his weight in gold.” Cal pauses, his lips twitching as the other boys crowd close to the door to listen in. “The enforcer, I mean. Just … not quite as much gold as me.” He chuckles again and then stands up after I’ve removed both boots, letting his pants fall to the floor. He doesn’t seem to give a fuck that we’re all standing right there. I mean, they all fucked me in front of one another, so maybe it doesn’t bother them at all? Bet they’ve had dick measuring contests, too, like with literal rulers and shit. If I were a dude, I’d probably do, that. While I was at it, I’d grab the circumference, too—just for fun.
