“Can I show you something?” I ask, glancing over at Ms. Keating. She's looking at me like she feels sorry for me. I wonder if she remembers what it was like to be my age, to be wrapped up in gang life? I doubt the gang she ran with is anything like the Havoc Boys. Nobody is like the Havoc Boys. “It's a video I found on Neil's laptop once. He told me he'd kill me if I ever showed anyone, but he also told me he'd kill me if I tried to report him again, so I guess I'm dead either way.”
“This is highly inappropriate,” Ms. Keating says, wincing and reaching up a hand to gingerly touch the side of her face. “Bernadette, you do not need to answer anymore questions. If these officers would like to speak with you further, I recommend they do it when your lawyer is present.”
“No, it's okay, Ms. Keating,” I say, looking up at her with a genuine sense of gratitude in my face. Victor was afraid she might be a liability, but he's wrong. She is the one truly real and kind human being I have ever met in my life. And here I was, thinking the entire world was a wash. Well fuck me sideways. Apparently there really is a small slice of kindness in all of this cold cruelness. “I want to do this. Penelope deserves to have her story told.” I pull my phone out of the pocket on my pink leather jacket, shooting Oscar a quick text.
Send me the video, please.
He doesn't argue with me, and within thirty seconds, I have what I asked for. It just sits there in our text conversation like a poisonous thorn, pumping venom into the bloodstream of my soul. I feel dizzy looking at it, and I know for a fact that I cannot sit here while they watch it. I just can't.
“Ms. Keating,” I say, looking up and giving the very last piece of my heart that isn't reserved for the Havoc Boys to my teacher. This is my last hurrah, as far as trusting other people. If she betrays me, I imagine I'll be just like Oscar or Vic. My morality bar will lower to its most subterranean level, and I'll be left with only a few iron-clad principles: don't hurt kids, don't hurt animals, don't rape people. That'll be it. Right now, I also have a few pesky add-ons such as if someone hasn't harmed you, don't harm them.
I pray to the universe that this isn't a mistake.
Guess only time will tell.
“Yes, Bernadette?” she asks as I stand up and hold my phone to my chest. There's nothing incriminating on it; the boys would never be so stupid as to text about murder and mayhem on a fucking cell phone. But also, I don't want the police looking through it either.
“I'm going to forward a video I have on my phone to Sara Young, and then I'm going to leave for the day because I can't handle it. Is that alright?”
“Of course,” she says, nodding at me and turning to Principal Vaughn. “We can let Bernadette's teachers know she'll be out for the rest of the afternoon?” I love the way she asks that question, like it even really matters. We cut class all the time. But I smile anyway and flick my attention over to Sara Young.
“Next time you accuse my boys and me of hurting Neil, I'm going to lawyer up and drag you through the mud. Do you understand? You want to be a good guy, Sara? Start fighting for the right side.” I hit send and then leave the office as fast as my legs can carry me, dialing up Aaron on my phone as I go. I'm too breathless to talk, so I just let it ring and wait on the front steps for the boys to join me.
It only takes them a few seconds to get out there.
“Are you alright?” Aaron asks me, just as breathless as I am. He pulls me into his arms and hugs me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“The police have Neil's video,” I say, glancing back to find Oscar watching me with stone-cold gray eyes. “And I have a plan for Sara Young. She wants to be a justice warrior for good? Fine. Let's start leaving her crumbs that she can follow. I know for a fact that Neil's brother and dad have gotten him out of a good dozen sticky situations by pulling strings. That, and I'd bet my life that his buddy at the morgue has seen things that would've landed Neil with the death penalty in court.”
“This is a dangerous route, Bernadette,” Victor warns me, moving a few steps down, so he can turn and look me in the face. “If you do this, there's no going back. There could be a trial; you might have to testify. Is this really what you want?”
“We can and will take care of Sara Young on our own,” Oscar says, keeping his distance from me. “As you've seen, there are ways to make people disappear for good.”
“No.” I close my eyes and relax back into Aaron's strong embrace. “This is what I want. If Sara Young isn't a bad person; if she truly believes in justice. Well, here's her chance to prove that to me.”
“This is a different game than we've played before,” Cal remarks, pushing his hood back, so I can see his blond hair. He turns to look at me and lets a genuine smile take over his pretty mouth. “I like it. Let's give it a shot.”
“And hey, we still have plenty of other people that need disappearing,” Hael says with a sharp laugh. “Speaking of, why don't you tell Bernie the plan you just came up with for Wednesday night?”
I glance back at Vic and he grins, reaching up to brush his thumb across my lower lip.
“Oh yes. I think you'll be pleased, my queen. Let's get the fuck out of here and gear up. We have work to do.”
Oscar has a drawing on his iPad that connects each player in this game to one another. I see David Benedict’s name on there with a question mark, his bubble stuck between me and Kali. The Thing is floating off to one side, also attached to me and Kali.
“If your stepfather was involved somehow in the Vincents' scheme, all of this would make sense,” Oscar tells me, using the stylus to trace the line between Neil and Coraleigh. “Digging into DHS' records for this time period, I see nothing about you and Penelope and Heather being sent to the Kushners.”
I look up at him, trying to push back our romantic issues so I can focus on business.
I'll be the first to admit that it's hard.
As much as I hate him, as much as I truly wish I could stab his balls with a very sharp fork, I know what my real issue is here. I want him to fucking love me. That's all I've ever wanted. Life did not give me a mother to love me; life took the father who was supposed to love me. My sister was stolen away in the night by the cruel hands of a greedy monster.
And so I was left with the obsession of a group of very bad boys instead.
Whether it's healthy or not, I don't care. I just want Havoc to love me the way I love them. That's what it all boils down to.
“I called Neil and Pam into child protective services,” I say, trying to puzzle my way through this. CPS is a division of DHS—the Department of Human Services—which Leigh is now the director of. “There should be something on file, right?”
“Unless someone scrubbed it,” Oscar explains, sitting across from me on the couch where we made love. His ass is quite literally sitting atop what's left of the pinkish stain, but he makes no mention of it nor does he act like he notices or even remembers. I resist the urge to kick him under the coffee table. “You've said before that Neil prevented you and your sister from reaching out before about your abuse. But this one time, just this once, your complaints were listened to and you were placed in foster care. Why do you think that is?” Oscar taps his stylus against his lips. He's wearing a different pair of glasses. They're black and white checkered, like a racing flag. I'm surprised to see so much personality in his eyewear, to be quite honest with you.