“My story’s about a YouTube star who videos unicorns and nobody believes they’re real,” she continues as we near Hael’s Camaro. “Whose car is this?” she asks me, standing back as I open the door and pull the front seat forward. When she spots the red-haired asshole behind the wheel, her suspicion rachets up another notch. “I’m not supposed to get in cars with strangers.”

“Heather, please, not today,” I say with a tired sigh, but she still doesn’t look like she’s about to budge. “You’re having a playdate with Kara and her cousin, Ashley. You remember Kara, don’t you?” After a moment, Heather nods and finally moves forward, handing me her backpack. I toss it on the floor as she climbs into the back and fastens her seatbelt. “Heather, this is Hael.”

“Hi Hael,” she says suspiciously, and he quirks a dark smile.

“Hey cutie.” He turns on the car and revs the engine, making Heather grin. “You like sportscars?”

Heather nods, pretending to examine the interior of the Camaro.

“This one seems pretty nice,” she admits reluctantly, and Hael laughs, hitting the gas and sending us flying down the wet road through massive puddles, spraying water in waves across the empty sidewalks. Heather laughs, but I frown. I’m not about to believe that these boys, who made me fear for my safety on a daily basis, are suddenly angels with kids.

Hael takes us the back way toward Aaron’s, splattering mud across the shiny surface of his car and making Heather giggle uncontrollably. When we get there, Vic’s waiting with the girls in the living room, and every warning bell I have goes off when his dark eyes land on my sister.

He’s the biggest monster of them all, the leader of the monsters, the one who paints nightmares in the dark with a brush of shadows.

My hand tightens on Heather’s shoulder, and she lets out a small sound of pain.

“Relax, Bernadette,” Vic says, rising to his feet, his full mouth etched into a tight frown. He comes up to stand beside me, and growls into my ear. “Don’t worry: I’m leaving.” Snatching one of Aaron’s leather jackets off the hook, Vic opens the front door and glances over his shoulder at Hael. “Stay here until I say otherwise, and don’t worry about your mom. I’ll handle her.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” Hael grinds out, but Vic just slips out the door and slams it behind him.

Only then do I release Heather’s shoulder. She rushes forward to join Kara and Ashley at the table where, apparently, Vic had started them on an art project of some sort. There are bits of colored paper everywhere, bottles of sparkly glue, and sequins galore. Also, they’re filming the whole thing with Vic’s phone, intent on making a YouTube video.

My jaw clenches and I sweep a hand over my face.

“What’s your problem with Vic anyway?” Hael asks, standing far too close. His hands are in the front pockets of his jeans as he sweeps his eyes over me. Stay here until I say otherwise. What the hell does that even mean? Eventually, I’ll have to come home from ‘the mall’ or else my mother will lose her shit. Speaking of, I wonder what’s up with Hael’s mom?

“Problem?” I echo, turning to face him and refusing to give into the memories nipping at the edges of my tired brain. Hael Harbin once held me down while Aaron stripped off my homecoming dress and gave it to Kali to wear. The two of them left me alone on the side of the road in heels, panties, and a strapless bra. And he wonders what my problem with Vic or any of the Havoc Boys is? A caustic laugh escapes me, but I’m just too exhausted to deal with my emotions right now.

I’m the one that wanted this, that said the word for the whole school to hear. Havoc. That was my choice.

“Forget it,” Hael says after a moment, still studying me. “Do you mind watching the girls while I step outside to make a phone call?”

“Be my guest,” I say, and only once he leaves and I’m alone for a moment do I take a breath.

During my sophomore year, I sometimes wondered if Havoc would kill me.

Now that I’m one of them, I’m damn near sure of it.

The next morning, I wake up on Aaron’s couch, groggy and confused and panicked. At some point yesterday afternoon, I must’ve fallen asleep. Sunlight spills across my face as I shoot up to a sitting position, my heart thundering, and look frantically around for Heather.

When I find her sleeping on the couch across from me, sprawled across Hael’s chest with Kara and Ashley beside her, I almost choke.

The front door creaks open and Aaron appears, wearing the same clothes he was in yesterday. He pauses for a moment and glances over at me, green-gold eyes rimmed with dark purple circles of fatigue.

“I …” I start, but then Vic follows in behind him, and I clamp my lips shut against the spill of words that are suddenly so desperate to escape. We need to talk. Why did you do it? Are you insane?!

“We’re having breakfast with my mother today to talk about my suspension,” Vic says as Aaron sweeps past and disappears up the stairs. “Hael and Aaron will watch your sister for you while we go.”

“I can’t leave her here with them,” I blurt automatically and one of Victor’s brows goes up. My stomach twists with anxiety, but I know it’s not about leaving Heather with Hael. Glancing over at them, it’s quite clear she’s more than comfortable here. Fuck. No, all of that anxious energy inside of me has to do with Victor and the fact that he screwed me against a wall yesterday.

“Really? Why not?” he challenges, but I have nothing to say to that, and he knows it. “Here. Wear this.” He tosses a bag of new clothes my way just before the front door opens again and Oscar and Callum appear. Oscar gives me a curious look and quirks an almost disturbing smile while Callum breezes past and heads straight for the kitchen.

“You look … ruffled,” Oscar says, his voice a smooth purr that doesn’t belong in this dark world we live in. He sounds like a fallen prince or something. “I think I like you better this way: vulnerable, messy, and wearing Victor’s gym shorts.”

“Fuck you,” I snap, rising to my feet and heading for the downstairs bathroom. Once I’m locked away inside, I dig through the clothing in the bag and find a black skirt, white blouse, red heels, and some jewelry that I’m just betting is stolen. There’s also a new lacey bra and some panties with a fancy crisscross in the back that will most definitely show off my crack.

My mouth tightens into a thin line, but I put the clothes on anyway. There’s even some makeup—expensive makeup—a toothbrush, and a comb in the bag that I use before I freshen up my eyeliner and lipstick. A small bottle of ibuprofen falls out of the bag, and I frown. I’m guessing Vic got this for me because of the knife wound … but I need it a bit more for the ache between my legs. I pop two pills, check my appearance in the mirror—I look like a fucking secretary—and call it good.

I say goodbye to Heather, but she barely stirs on Hael’s chest, and then head outside to join Vic at his bike.

He’s smoking another cigarette, offering one up to me in long fingers. He’s dressed up in another yuppie outfit, hair slicked back, the tattoos on his arms impossible to miss despite the disguise.