“When we're finished here, you can go back and perform your duties for Hael. He's chomping at the bit to fuck you over the hood of his Camaro. Have at it.” Victor tears the door open and storms out.
I'm still sitting there shaking when I hear the snarled snippets of argument from the hall. I quickly clean myself up and slip out, only to find Vic toe-to-toe with his mother.
“Go on, son,” she challenges as Tom hovers nearby, clearly outmatched by the other two people in this room. “Hit me. It'll make you feel better.”
“And risk my inheritance for the pleasure?” Vic steps back, his hands tucked into his pockets. They'd have to be, I guess, since he didn't wash them. “No thanks. I'll wait until I get my money and then pay someone to do it for me. That's how you like things done, right? Use cash to get somebody else to do your dirty work for you?” Victor glances over his shoulder at me. “Come on, Bernadette. I think we've overstayed our welcome.”
Ophelia grabs my arm on my way out, her fingernails digging into my skin the way my mother's used to. Vic notices and starts to head toward us with a violent sort of purpose in his stride, but I've got this. I don't need his help.
“You're either here for the money, or else you're actually in love with him.” Ophelia barks this last part out on the end of a harsh laugh, like the thought of anyone loving her son is absolutely ridiculous, completely unfathomable. “Regardless, you're going to suffer for it. Victor is the spitting image of his young father, and look how that turned out? Once upon a time, I was as naïve as you are now. Don't let him be your greatest mistake.”
“Enough,” Vic snaps out, but I'm already tearing my arm from her grip, cringing as her nails catch on the stitches in my arm. I swear, I don't breathe again until I get outside.
“I want another name scratched off my list,” I gasp, spinning on Victor, his face unreadable, his mouth in a flat line. “Like really scratched off. I don't mean just a dead Range Rover, but … the whole thing. I want to see progress.”
He stares at me for a long, quiet moment, and then nods his head once.
“A deal's a deal,” Vic agrees, straddling his bike. “Get on, and let's go.”
Vic takes me back to Aaron's house and then has some sort of caucus in the front yard with Callum and Oscar.
“What happened to Don?” I ask Hael because I feel like he's the most likely to tell me the truth. “I have a right to know that, don't I? I mean, this is my deal after all. This time, I'm the goddamn client.”
Hael raises a brow as the sound of little girl giggles drifts down the stairs toward us. The three of them are upstairs with Aaron, dressed in sparkles and glitter, playing some sort of fairy-tale game where Heather is the knight and the other two are damsels in distress. I'm glad to see my little sister playing the role I always wanted for myself.
“Vic hasn't told you?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Your friend Donald was expelled from that fancy school, along with several friends of his. Several other girls came forward with the same story you told. He's being investigated by the DA.” The edge of Hael's sharp mouth curves up in a not-quite-smile. “Nothing'll ever come of it, I bet. That's what happens when you have money the way he does, but Vic says we can go for him again once we get his inheritance. Then we can fight on the same level.” My mouth parts in surprise, but I do my best to hide the reaction. “Anyway, we broke a dozen bones that'll never heal right. That face isn't so pretty anymore.”
“You guys really are thorough, aren't you?” I ask, and Hael shrugs. Loose, cocky, uncomplicated. Not like his idiot boss. He's chomping at the bit to fuck you over the hood of his Camaro. Have at it. Right. And what would Vic do if I took him up on that offer? “What's the story Donald's telling now?”
“Dunno. Don't care. Just so long as nothing comes back on us.” Hael's phone rings, and he glances at the screen with a tightness in his face I haven't seen before. He just seems to swagger through life, uninhibited, careless. When I lean forward and catch a sneak peek at his screen, I see that double-edged sword of a word again. Mom.
“You don't like your mother?” I ask, and Hael glances up toward me, his face hardening. “Do you like yours?” he retorts, and I shake my head.
“You know all about my mother,” I tell him, remembering that night we spent together in the homeless shelter. I was so scared, but Hael wasn't. He covered both our heads with his blanket, wrapping us up in our own private cocoon. Don’t be scared, little bird, he’d said, smiling a gap-toothed smile at me. We can tell stories until the sun comes up. I remember thinking he was the bravest, most beautiful person I'd ever met. “But all I know about yours is that she has a problem with prescription drugs.”
“Mm.” Hael ignores the call and tucks the phone away, lifting his chin in my direction. “How was breakfast?” He sweeps a tattooed hand over his red hair, studying me with eyes the color of honey and almonds, brown with a hint of gold.
Chomping at the bit, huh? I lick my lower lip, the temptation and the challenge of getting Vic's best friend in bed warring with my sudden and desperate need to be alone. I've been alone most of my life, and this whole Havoc thing … it comes with a lot of togetherness.
“Breakfast was a nightmare. Vic fingered me under the table while at the same time confronting his mom about her underhanded bullshit. Also, her new boyfriend is a total sleaze.”
Hael's brows go up, and he smirks.
“Well, okay then. Sounds like a typical Havoc sort of breakfast meeting. Why is he all stormy and sulky and shit then?”
“He fingered me and then refused to let me touch him,” I say, staring intently at the coffee table and wondering why I'm spilling all of this information to Hael. Finally, I look up. “Can you take me to the drugstore? I need to get a morning-after pill, and I don't have any money.”
Hael looks at me and then nods slowly.
“Yeah, okay.” He stands up just as the front door opens, and Callum, Oscar, and Vic walk in.
“Where are you two headed?” Oscar asks casually, and I get the idea that it's his job to keep track of everyone on a daily basis. It's not a casual question. Hael and I are not going to walk out of here without an explanation. “Off to the drugstore to get a morning-after pill,” I say blandly, shrugging my shoulders. “Victor came inside of me yesterday, and I'm not about getting pregnant.”
“Fucking Christ,” Vic snaps. “I'll take you.”
“I'd rather go with Hael,” I say, putting my hand on the cocky asshole's arm. “Is it okay if Heather stays here while we're gone? Shouldn't be long.”
“You're too much, Bernadette,” Vic growls, stalking past me and disappearing into the dark hallway that leads back to what used to be Aaron's parents' bedroom.
“You like pushing his buttons?” Callum asks, chuckling, that rough voice of his soothing in a strange sort of way. It's like, he's internalized all his shit, and the only time it ever comes out is in an ambient sort of darkness in his voice. “That's a risky ballgame. You've got big ovaries, Bernadette Blackbird.” With another burst of laugher, Cal slips past me and into the kitchen.