Page 84 of Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 5)
Trinity blinks at me, maintaining that ineffable calm of hers. According to Vic, she seemed pretty shaken up about James’ death. Looking at her now, you’d never know.
“Do you have a point?” she asks, rearing back slightly to look me over with a sneer building on her lips. It’s like … Trinity is Kali without the rachet, but with an extra helping of smug superiority. But where Kali had a rotten soul, at least she had one. Pretty sure Trinity Jade is an empty trinket on the inside. “Why are you even here?”
“We came here to enroll, of course,” Victor says, and I shiver in pleasure as Trinity’s face pales, going ashen beneath the pretty layer of makeup she’s caked on her doll-like features. “Oh? You seem shocked,” he continues, reaching out a single finger to lift her tie. There’s a cruelty to his movements, to the set of his gaze, that I’ve never seen directed at me. It’s the look that promises the Vic who strangled Logan Charter to death in the hallways of Prescott High still exists.
He’s very dangerous, Victor Channing is.
I reach up and take his arm, and he grins, standing up straight and shrugging his big shoulders. A master of control.
“Oak Valley has opened up a dozen spots for students from Prescott High, in a show of solidarity—a dozen scholarship spots. We’ve got a few … on-campus connections, so it looks like we’ll be starting next week.” Vic gets out a cigarette and lights up, his gaze sliding over to me. “And by we, I mean me and my wife. My boys.” He flicks his attention back to Trinity as she stands there clutching her leather book bag and struggling to keep her expression placid.
“You’ll be dead before you can set foot in your first class,” Trinity deadpans, not bothering to hide the menace in her words. “Maxwell will see to that, after what you did to James.” Her face cracks for the briefest of moments, and I smile. I wonder if she’d like to know how her brother met his end? On the floor of my cheap, dirty high school with a rock to the head. No eyes. And blood. So, so much blood.
“No,” Vic says, chuckling and shaking his head as the tree branch above Trinity’s head creaks and she looks up to see Cal crouching there, staring down at her. Victor takes another step forward, grabbing the end of Trinity’s tie and twirling it around her neck like a noose. He tugs the end of it and grins. “Because you’re going to go back to Ophelia and tell her that our engagement is still on. You’re going to get that judge grandfather of yours to promise that the annulment is complete.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she retorts, her eyes blazing. I can’t decide if she’s just pissed off or pissed off and turned-on. I know where I stand as I reach out and snag the loose cig dangling from Vic’s lips. I smoke it while he leans in toward Trinity and puts his forehead so close to hers that she squeezes her eyes shut.
“You should be. Every person in our crew knows about you and James. If you want to keep rich daddy Jade from discovering that you aren’t his brat, that your mom is a whore, and that you’ve got no part of his pretty royal blood … Well, then, that’s your choice.” Vic releases her tie suddenly and stands up.
Trinity’s eyes trail over to me, meeting my green gaze with a dark one of her own.
“Do it, Trinity Jade,” Vic continues, cupping the side of her face in a way that makes me shift with jealousy, leather pants creaking as I pop out a hip and stare Trinity down. “We don’t want to have to kill you.” He taps her cheek and steps back, nodding over at Oscar briefly. “Let Maxwell know that if he doesn’t reaccept Ophelia’s original offer, we’ll start dismantling his organization from the top down.”
Vic takes another step back and then turns, gesturing for the rest of us to follow.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asks, gazing down at me. I look back at him before nodding. The idea of continuing the charade was mine. But this time, we have the same dirt on Trinity that Ophelia has. A stalemate, if you will. For now, this buys us time.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see that Trinity’s already stormed off, disappearing between two of the old stone buildings with her skirt ruffling around her thighs. I need to see the girls today—I feel like I might die if I don’t—but we also need to make sure as few people see us interacting with them as possible. They’re supposed to be incognito here. Heather is not Heather today: she’s Hannah.
