“What time are we leaving?” Callum asks, noticing that I’ve drained half my smoothie already and winking at me conspiratorially over it. “Because I owe Bernie another dance lesson.”
“You mean another fuck?” Hael quips, pretending to fuck the counter. He lifts the rifle up and aims it at the sliding glass doors before dropping it down again. “Just be honest man. Everybody here knows you’re jonesing for some of that sweet, sweet Bernie pussy.” Hael grins at me, and I flip his ass off with both hands. “Speaking of …” He sets the gun down beside the others and leans down to put his elbows on the counter. “After we get back tonight, and we’re both soaked in blood and violence and sin, let’s fuck on the roof. Nice and flat, stars above our heads, an entire neighborhood of suburban prudes to freak out with our moans.”
“You’re assuming we’re making it back alive, mission accomplished, no cops?” I ask, and Hael shrugs.
“Why would I assume any different? This isn’t our first time at the rodeo, Blackbird.” He pats the top of my head, and I slap his hand away. Can’t deny that his offer is appealing as fuck.
“Tell Vic I’ve already reserved you tonight, so he can fuck off.”
“Why don’t you tell Vic yourself?” Victor asks, appearing behind me and making me jump. Hael doesn’t seem to give a shit, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugging his shoulders.
Callum watches the two of them with interest, straw tucked into his mouth. I imagine if Hael and Vic started fighting, he’s probably strong enough to get them apart, at least long enough for them to cool their heads enough to walk away.
“Don’t start on me with that cocky shit tonight,” Vic growls, grabbing the rifle with the silencer and examining it carefully. He barely looks at me. Actually, he hasn’t looked at me much since yesterday. “We made a mistake in letting you marry Bernadette.” Victor agreed with Oscar’s statement. Shit, maybe they were both right. But also … Victor is mine. No fucking way would I have let some other girl marry him. Besides, even if I would’ve, he’d still have had to stay married to her for a year; we would’ve had to fight to protect her life instead of mine.
I’d rather fight for my own crew, baby.
I pick up a rifle and screw a silencer onto the end.
“Victor,” I start, and he pauses to glance over at me. Our eyes meet and power shoots through me. He is fucking fierce, my new husband is. “You know I was never going to let you have another girl, right?”
He smiles at me, but there’s a wariness to it; he knows he fucked up a little bit.
That’s what counts.
“You’d be surprised at the things you’d do for love,” he says, eyes flicking to Hael and Cal before returning to me. He puts the rifle into a strap and swings it over his shoulder before bending down to press a kiss to my mouth. “But even if marrying you was a mistake, I don’t care. I told you: I’m selfish as fuck. I’d do it all over again. And I’d happily kill to protect you, Bernie.” Vic lifts his head up and gestures in a circle with his finger. “Suit up, boys, and let’s do this thing.”
He takes off down the hall, and I stand up to change.
The Charters wanted a war?
Well, it looks like they’re gonna get one.
And the easiest way to win a war … is to shoot the general.
Aaron drives Hael’s Camaro to the race. He’s going to enter it while the rest of do what needs to be done.
“Do not die on me,” I warn him, the same way I warned Hael and Vic the night we had to take Aaron to Nurse Yes-Scott’s. I run my palms up Aaron’s chest to rest them on his shoulders. He smiles at me, smoking a joint for luck. His chestnut hair is slicked up with gel, a pair of tight blue jeans on his ass that make me feel stabby. If any girl at that track goes for my man tonight … trouble. Big motherfucking trouble.
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” he asks me, offering up the joint. I take it from him and pull in a drag before handing it to Callum. Aaron leans down and kisses my lips, and I blow sweet, thick smoke into his mouth. He chuckles. “You think I’d die before getting another taste of you?” He squeezes my ass with his hand and kisses the side of my neck, gently sucking on the flesh until I shudder and melt into him. “I’ll win this race while you slit some throats. Deal?”
“Got it,” I say as Aaron gives me one, last searing kiss and slides into the Camaro. The rest of us are riding over in another stolen vehicle. This time, it’s a white Mercedes, a G-Class. Ugly as hell, but it works.
“Don’t you fuck that car up,” Hael calls out, snorting as Aaron flips him off before shutting the door and pulling out of the driveway to wait for us. Hael flicks his attention over to me. “They’ll let him race before they try to kill him, Blackbird. No worries.”
“Oh, well, that makes me feel so much better,” I murmur, climbing into the backseat while Callum and Oscar slide in on either side of me. Victor takes the passenger seat while Hael drives.
My thigh is pressed up alongside Oscar’s, too close for comfort really. He looks over at me, gaze scanning my body before he turns away. I scoot a little closer, just to see what his reaction is.
“Do not try me tonight, Bernadette,” he says, and I snort as Hael starts the engine and we pull out of the driveway. You’d think Hael would be the one racing, but he has a skillset that Aaron does not, one that we need for this plan to work.
We’re gonna blow up some cars, baby.
“Try you?” I ask, sliding my hand up Oscar’s thigh. He’s wearing jeans tonight, not a suit. They’re nice and tight, too, so it’s quite the treat to feel him up. He clamps his hand down over mine and weaves his inked fingers through my fingers. It’s not meant to be a nice gesture though; he digs his nails into my palm, making me wince. “I haven’t even started, Oscar.”
“Hands off,” he says, flicking my hand away from him. “I don’t like being touched.”
“Really? Because you sure seemed to enjoy the touch of me on your dick.” I stare right at him as Callum chuckles inside his hood and Vic glances mildly over his shoulder, studying us. “And you have a hell of a lot of tattoos for someone that doesn’t like being touched.”
“Bernadette,” Victor warns, surprising me. I look back at him and find that he’s watching Oscar and not me. The dickhead in question is staring out the window with his jaw clenched. “Let it go for now.” Vic pauses for a moment. “But Oscar … there are no secrets in Havoc.”
“I’m well-aware, thank you,” Oscar retorts, proceeding to ignore me for the rest of the ride. I’m fucking dying to know what that was all about, but I can see that tonight is not that night. With a sigh, I slump back into my seat and turn to look at Callum instead.
“Do you mind if I ask what happened to your parents?” I ask, because for as long as I can remember, he’s lived with his grandmother. Once, in sixth grade, she made cupcakes and little party bags and dropped them off at our class. She seemed really sweet at the time, but that’s about all I know. “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned them.”