Mayhem At Prescott High Page 19

Mine.

I’ll fuck my girl, feed my girl, kill for my girl.

“Thanks,” she says, hooking a saucy smile my way. My cock stiffens at the sight of her pretty lips curving up at the edges. “I could get used to this: my man making me a sandwich after sex.” I just bark a laugh out because I don’t care about things like that; I’ll make the sandwiches every time. Society is broken and twisted, so what do I give a shit about some old sexist rules? This thing between me and Bernadette is older than that, ancient, primal. “Still, I want to know why Oscar here is talking about me breaking up Havoc.” She bites into the sandwich as she glares at him.

He taps his inked fingers on the countertop and glares right back. Looking at him right now, I hate him with a passion for getting to see Bernie in her wedding dress before I did. I bet I know what he was thinking. He probably had that gleam in his eye, that wicked little glimmer that speaks to unspeakable things.

“He wants the rest of us to start dating, now that you and Vic are hitched,” Hael says, popping the top off the ice cream and digging through the vanilla for a stray cookie dough piece. See, that’s always been his problem: he isn’t patient enough. Take a bite of vanilla and wait for something good. I’ve sort of always figured he was trying to fuck Bernadette out of his system. Apparently, it didn’t work.

“This is what Oscar wants?” Bernadette clarifies, her eyes sliding over to Aaron and then, surprisingly, flicking to Callum.

“It’s not what I want,” Aaron says, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking down at the floor. He has red roses tattooed on his left foot that he stares at for a second before looking back up at Bernie. “You know that. I love you; I’ve always loved you. Legal marriage to Vic was for business purposes.”

“Watch your mouth, Aaron,” I growl out at him. Because I might start breaking faces, I decide to light up another joint. “Legal marriage to Bernadette is my fucking right. I’m the boss.” I take two drags and pass the joint to Bernie. She does the same, and on it goes, into Aaron’s hands. Oscar passes it without smoking, giving it to Callum, Hael, and then back to me.

There’s beauty in it, the ritual of smoking pot.

“Cal?” Bernie asks, like she’s genuinely curious. She’s stopped eating the sandwich, so I take it from her hands and finish it off as she wipes crumbs on the front of her borrowed tee. “How do you feel about it?”

“Depending on your answer, you’ll have mine,” he says with a soft smile. You’d never know by looking at him that he tied a couple up in their bedroom and gagged them earlier.

“My answer …” Bernie starts as I pass her the joint again. She crinkles her brow in thought, her pink-tipped blond hair mussy and frothing around her gorgeous face. I can smell her from here, too, like something sweet mixed with something urban. Fruit and leather, maybe. But summer sweet fruit specifically. I exhale and adjust my dick in my pants. Hael rolls his eyes. “If I said everything …” she ventures, and Cal’s smile rachets up a notch. He would fucking die for her, Callum would.

“Then you know what I want,” he adds with a bit of a shrug.

“You still owe me a blowie,” Hael decides to chime in for no reason other than because he’s a fucking dick. The look I give him could peel paint. He pretends not to notice, as usual. Easier to act like he doesn’t hear me than openly defy my orders.

“What exactly is it that Callum wants?” I clarify, splaying my fingers out on the surface of the counter. Those blue eyes of his stare right back at me, promising that if I mess this thing up, he won’t be such a tame puppy for me anymore. Maybe Bernadette can’t see it, but I know, always have known. Callum Park is a nightmare in dreamlike clothing.

He smiles at me, but I stand my ground.

“You know what I want, Victor. It’s what I’ve always wanted: Bernadette.”

Cal’s statement ripples through the six of us, making me grit my teeth. His blue eyes are locked on mine, watching, waiting. I don’t doubt that I could bring the other guys to heel. It’s what I do; I’m the motherfucking boss.

The thing is, I love them. They’re my brothers. My family.

I look at Bernadette and find her studying Oscar, of all people, like she’s waiting for a statement from him. He gives her nothing, as usual, pushing his glasses up his nose. I think that out of all of us, he’s disappointed at seeing her here, crawling on her belly in a nest of vipers. We are all snakes now.

“Whatever your conclusion, Victor,” Oscar begins, turning back to me with that stoic mask of his in place. His mouth is a flat line, his eyes as gray as the ocean in a storm. “Make your mind up, and do it quickly, so we can move on. As entertaining as romantic entanglements can be, we have life or death business on our roster.”

“Is that how you really feel?” Bernie asks him, frowning hard, nostrils flared with anger. I can see her hands tightening into fists where they rest on the counter. My eyes lift to hers, and I see that Oscar’s hurt her. Makes me want to wring his neck, to be fucking honest with ya. “Let Vic decide, move on. Business as usual.”

“Were you expecting something different?” Oscar asks, setting his iPad on the counter. If I know him—and I do—he’s going to wait until everyone else is asleep before he eats anything. He’ll do it in the dark, by himself, because god forbid we see him with a bit of sauce on his lips or crumbs on his shirt. He’s never wanted to be human. Fucking Bernadette the way he did? That proves he is and he hates it.

“When I said you owe me a blowie, what I meant was that I’m now officially single and unattached so …” Hael inserts, and I grit my teeth.

“And Bernadette Channing is a married woman.” I step back from the counter, my eyes finding Aaron’s. He’s been awfully quiet, but that won’t last. He’s only going to keep his tongue for so long before he challenges me. If he does, I’ll have to put him in his place, and I don’t want to do that.

You have two choices, Victor, I tell myself as I stare at Aaron. Choose Bernie for yourself or choose Havoc.

There has only ever been one appropriate choice.

“When you’ve been lied to by everyone around you, when you have nothing else, you realize the one currency you can carry is truth. So a single word does have meaning. A promise does hold importance. And a pact is worth carrying to the grave.”

My own words echo around inside my head, a reminder that when we laid out Bernie’s price, I said our girl. A Havoc Girl. I am as bound and beholden to that price as she is.

She cannot belong to me and me alone while I still hold the reigns of this family. Those things are mutually exclusive.

Just … I can’t make any changes today.

I am not ready today.

“She’s a married woman, and this is my honeymoon. I am done discussing this shit tonight.” I gesture with my chin toward the stairs. “Let’s go, Bern.” She tears her gaze away from Oscar like she’d just as soon slit his fucking throat.

“You’re right: we can talk about it later,” Aaron agrees, while still also managing to be an asshole. I resist the urge to flip him off. I gave Bernadette to him to take care of once. Nobody can ever say that I didn’t try. I did. I left her alone. I gave her away. I pushed her away. Yet, here she is.