Biting my lower lip, I squeeze and rub my legs until I feel the very edges of an orgasm teasing me. It's not enough though, no matter how hard I try, and I kick the footboard in frustration again. After a while, I end up falling asleep.

When I wake up, my arms are untied and Callum is lying on his side and staring at me, hood pulled up, hands in a prayer position beneath his cheek.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” he murmurs in his husky voice. “How are you feeling?”

I sit up, realizing that my arms are now untied, my naked body covered with a fuzzy black blanket.

“What time is it?” I ask, and Cal pauses to pull his phone from the front pocket of his hoodie.

“Almost ten at night,” he says, and I feel panic spike through me. Heather! “Don't worry: Aaron was waiting when the bus dropped your sister off after school. We've got her.” I exhale sharply, guilt washing over me. Joining Havoc meant keeping Heather safe, but if my head is so far up my ass in pursuit of the Havoc Boys, then I'm not doing my job as a big sister. I make a sound of frustration, gritting my teeth against the overwhelming rage I feel toward Oscar Montauk. “And I don't think he intended to leave you for so long, if that helps any.”

“Only a little bit,” I say, rubbing my hands over my face before realizing that I'm sitting stark naked in Oscar's bedroom while Callum watches me in the dark with his too-blue eyes. It seems imperative that I gather my clothes now. “Where is he?”

I stand up, acting like I don't feel Cal's eyes on my ass. It's only been a handful of days since our first time; I'm still putting all my emotions in order. At least now that we've fucked, he's unlikely to die now? Right?

That's how these sorts of stories work. I mean, real life makes literally zero narrative sense, but I can always hope that whatever wicked god or goddess is watching over us understands how much we mean to each other. Pluck one blossom from our tree, and we'll wilt, leaving nothing but death and thorns in our wake.

“We ran into a bit of trouble,” Callum explains as I gather my clothes, putting my bra and tank top on first. It's a bit provocative, to wiggle into those tight leather pants I love so much. “The Charter Crew is pushing back hard in retaliation for that drive-by. Likely, we'll be in a full-blown war by the time the winter formal rolls around.” I can hear Cal yawning, so I take advantage of the moment to whip my pants on as fast as I can.

Of course, then I turn around and there he is, pressed close against me.

“Is Oscar okay?” I choke out, because even if I want to cut his balls off with Hael's hunting knife, it's my job to make him bleed and nobody else's. Maybe Vic's, I guess, but only for Havoc business stuff.

Callum nods, reaching up to brush some hair behind my ear. His touch makes me shiver, reigniting the awful ache in my lower belly.

“He's a little bruised up, but he'll survive. Hael should be here to pick us up in a few; we'll rendezvous at the garage.” Callum picks up my jacket and helps me into it, stopping just once to kiss me on the side of the neck. “I see bruises,” he whispers, and I shiver again. “If he hurts you, I'll kill him.”

“It's okay,” I reply, feeling mollified for the time being. It's nice to know that Cal is on my side. A horn sounds from outside, and Cal grins.

“Better get going, eh Bernie?” He puts his hand on the small of my back and opens the door, leading me around the side of the garage and through a gate that leads to the street. Hael is waiting, music trickling into the car as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel and waits for Cal and me to climb in.

“Skipped school for a little bondage, huh?” Hael asks, chuckling like the asshole he is. I don't know how he knows what we did, but oh well. There are no secrets in Havoc, right? I flip Hael off and he hits the gas, sending us flying down the road. “Hope you got fucked nice and good because it looks like we're gonna have a fight on our hands tonight.”

“Good,” I say, letting my anger at Oscar ride fast and hard through me. “Because I could use letting out a little steam.”

The other boys are waiting at the garage when we pull up, but they're not the only ones. There are dozens of masked men and women that watch me with reverent eyes as I climb out of Hael's Camaro and head up the drive to where Victor's waiting.

He's smoking a cigarette, his stance casual. But his eyes, they fucking burn.

“Where you been all day, Bernadette?” he asks, because he's a total asshole and already knows. I flip him off, too, and he gives a tight smile in response. “Your boy here got jumped on his way back from visiting Coraleigh.”

I look down at Oscar, his face bruised, lip split. His glasses are missing, so I'm guessing they got smashed up and he's wearing contacts now. He looks up at me with an expression that's impossible to read.

“You are going to regret leaving me there like that,” I tell him, putting my hands on my hips as Aaron makes his way over to stand beside Oscar's chair. He looks between the two of us with narrowed eyes. “Once is a mistake; twice is a pattern. You're a royal prick, you know that?”

Oscar reaches up and brushes some blood from his lip. He's not wearing his suit anymore either. This time, he's got on black sweats and a hoodie. Without his polished, perfect uniform in place he looks like a different person.

“I would've been back to fuck you again, but I was detained,” is all he says. “My meeting with Leigh took all of ten minutes. The walk to her office and back was thirty.” Oscar stands up from the chair, looking down at me. “Beating the shit out of Kyler and Timmy Ensbrook took a half hour.” He lifts his head up to look past me, at the gathered Havoc Crew in the front yard of the old garage. “Organizing this took up the rest of my day.”

“Excuses, excuses,” I murmur, but Oscar just moves past me to stand next to Vic. His lack of attention is so goddamn annoying. I realize that it's probably a tactic to get me to pay attention to him, but I don't care. I'm still pissed. “But I know when it's time for business, and when it's time to cut your boyfriend's balls off. So, what's up?”

“Mitch is rallying his troops,” Aaron says, lighting up a cigarette and offering it over to me.

“Because of the drive-by?” I clarify. It was only a week ago, but it feels like a lifetime. We've been back and forth with Mitch and his people ever since. I can feel Billie's eyes following me down the halls, just waiting for another opportunity to strike from the shadows.

“For sewing Kali's mouth shut,” Aaron explains, and my attention whips over to him.

“What?” I ask, blinking through my temporary shock. “The hell are you talking about?” I take a drag on the cigarette as I stare back at him, exhaling smoke through my nostrils. “Like, literally?”

“Snitches get stitches,” Aaron says mildly, handing me his phone. There's a picture of Kali Rose-Kennedy with her pink lipstick smeared, blood running down her chin to stain her halter top. Her lips have quite literally been sewn together. “Word spreads quick at Prescott.”

“Did you guys do this?” I ask, and Victor laughs, turning around to face me as Cal takes a seat on the pavement, flicking the wheel of his lighter on and off as he watches more students pull onto the road and get out of their cars.