“Long enough,” Oscar says, gray eyes sliding over to mine briefly. The way he smiles, that expression could very well haunt my nightmares. Instead, I turn my now burning face down to look at the ring on my finger. I’ve been taking it off at home because if Mom sees it, she’ll have a total meltdown. She never did like the idea of me having a boyfriend. And she really wouldn’t like the idea of me having a piece of jewelry that’s nicer that hers.

I squint at the ring as Hael’s irritating, cocky laughter rings out.

“If throwing a girl against a tree is your version of foreplay, no wonder Bernadette isn’t interested in you,” he says as a shadow passes over me, and I lift my face to find Vic staring at me again.

“It’s real,” he tells me, reaching out to take my hand and study it for a moment. “All of it.” His fingers burn where they touch me, searing straight into my soul. Our eyes meet, and I find it ridiculously hard to breathe. “Worth about … thirty grand, if I remember correctly.” My eyes widen, but I don’t say anything as he withdraws his hand and turns to face the others.

“We’ve got a problem,” he announces as Aaron glowers and Callum tucks himself into a chair, knees up, dumping an entire bag of snacks on the ground in front of him. He picks up a bag of chips and goes to town, eyes flashing from inside that hood of his. He gives me a wink and a smile, which I ignore. My brain is running on overdrive right now. Vic has a thirty-thousand-dollar ring that he’s never sold? I stare at it again, and I can’t quite make myself believe that there’s some sentimental attachment to the damn thing. I mean, he did say it was his grandmother’s, but I have a hard time believing that someone like Victor Channing gives a crap about his dead granny.

So what then?

Does he realize that I could run down to any pawn shop in town, sell the stupid thing, and take off with my little sister in tow? Sure, thirty grand wouldn’t last forever, but it’d last long enough for me to get us away from here, buy a cheap car and start driving.

We could make a new life in another state, start her at a new school, and the Thing would never find us. Sure, his family has resources, but how hard would they really look?

“Yeah, and what’s the problem?” Hael asks, slumping into a broken lounger and making its rusted frame creak with his muscular weight. He’s every girl’s bad boy wet dream, with his mischievous brown eyes, bloodred hair, and tattoos. He’s even got the face of a demon on his chest with the words Hot Rod on either side. In short, he’s the bad boy equivalent of a jock-y douche. And yet … I can almost see the appeal.

“Vaughn pulled me into his office on Monday,” Vic begins, and my ears perk up. We all know that part of the story, of course, but the why has been saved until later. Until now. I move over next to Callum’s chair as he lifts up another snack bag.

“Lap?” he inquires, and then flashes that stupid Disney-prince-hiding-a-villain-grin. “Peanuts?” I narrow my eyes, but I’m not afraid of Callum; I’m not afraid of any of these assholes. I sit down hard on his lap and snatch the food, noticing Vic’s eyes skimming over the pair of us. His jaw tightens as he turns away.

Aaron sits in the chair farthest away from me, his gaze on the garage door and most definitely not on Vic. Or me. Definitely not on me.

“He said he’d gotten a call from my mother, about the drugs I was hiding in my locker.”

“You hide drugs in your locker?” I blurt, and Vic gives me a long, studying sort of look.

In retrospect, it was a stupid question. Of course he doesn’t. Only an idiot would hide their drugs in a Prescott High locker, what with the random searches, police presence, and sniffer dogs. And no matter what else they might be, the Havoc Boys are not stupid.

“That was why Ron Cartwright was hovering in the hall then?” Hael guesses, and then he brays another of his stupid laughs. “What a dumb shit. He didn’t think we’d notice? Cal and I will pay him a visit next week.”

I don’t even have to wonder what pay him a visit means. Ron Cartwright is going to get his balls shoved up his own ass. Vic nods, acknowledging Hael’s words, and then continues.

“I planted the shit back in his locker, and then sent the admins on a wild goose chase.” Vic rubs at his chin, a sign that he’s thinking. His dark purple tee is stained with sweat on the lower back, even though it’s not particularly hot out. That’s when I realize that the armpits of my own shirt are wet, and I’m still shaking. What is it that’s going on between us?

“You double-double crossed him,” I say, and they all turn to look at me like they’re surprised to hear me speak. Guess they’re not quite used to it, a woman in their midst. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s shocked to realize that it’s been several weeks of this shit, and I haven’t ended up in anyone’s bed. Isn’t that why I’m here? “Brilliant. So now what? Your mom’s trying to sabotage you?”

“She’s tried before,” he offers, not like it’s much of a surprise. But then his dark eyes find mine, and a slight smile—a very slight smile—edges his lips. “But I think seeing you frightened her. This is getting real; she might not actually end up with my grandmother’s money after all.”

“How much is the inheritance anyway?” I ask, not even bothering for nonchalance. I’m interested, especially since Vic mentioned we’d all get a cut. I don’t believe it for half a second, but oh well. The fantasy is nice enough.

“Not enough to change the world, but enough to set us up for life.” Victor snaps his fingers in Oscar’s direction. “Find out where my mother’s staying currently.”

“What are we going to do?” Aaron asks, speaking up for the first time. I’ve noticed that Vic relies on the other three more than him, even though it’s pretty damn obvious that Aaron is not only desperate for Victor’s approval, but also that he hates him.

“I don’t know,” Vic says, pausing as a car comes crawling down the street. It’s hard to see who’s in it with the thick wall of foliage, but I notice that Oscar isn’t the only one that casually slips a gun from an unseen place on his body. Cal has one, too.

The leader of the Havoc Boys turns to me.

His eyes burn.

As dark as they are, I shouldn’t be able to see fire in the shadows. And yet I do.

My teeth clench.

“You know how to multi-task, Bernadette?” he asks me, and I nod, feeling my lips dip into a frown. Multi-task? How about trying to finish homework, shower, and sleep while making sure your little sister doesn’t get raped by the man who fucked your older sister into an early grave? How about hating school so much you have tears rolling down your face at the thought of stepping into the hallway, but knowing you have to go because a degree might be your only escape? The bullying, the homework, the shitty home life. Oh, yeah, I know how to multi-task like the best of them.

“Why?”

“We’re used to fighting wars on multiple fronts,” Vic says, almost absently, his mind already moving onto the next subject. He looks me square in the face. “So, tell me about the fourth name on your list.”

My jaw clenches, and I look away.