“Who wants to bet that Mitch is dead?” Oscar muses, holding his iPad against his chest as he stands just behind and to the left of me. I glance back and our eyes meet, a million unspoken things filtering between us. It’s hard for him, I think, to continue to be a complete asshole when Aaron’s missing. When there’s a possibility we could never see him again. When there’s a chance, however small, that he could be dead. “If he weren’t, Kali wouldn’t be playing with cops, and Vic wouldn’t be talking to Logan right now.”

I turn back to the scene in front of me, but really, as much as I dislike Mitch and find him to be a pathetic imitation of Victor, it’s obvious now that he was the only choice for leader in this group. Logan is like a distant star compared to the sun that is Victor Channing-Blackbird.

My lips almost twitch as I rub my thumb against my wedding ring, but any joy I might’ve felt at the idea that Vic has been legally named Victor Blackbird in the Oregon legal system is diminished by the eclipse that is Aaron’s disappearance.

I can’t hear whatever it is that Victor’s saying because he’s leaned in and put his lips near Logan’s ear. That’s when somebody releases the balloon net about two hours too early, and the DJ cranks up some horrible song—I think it’s the WHATS POPPIN remix by Jack Harlow which, in my opinion, could really use an apostrophe.

Victor grabs Logan by the back of the neck, dragging him toward the door as he flails around and shouts at the top of his lungs. His words are lost in the blur of balloons, the dimming of the overhead lights, and the colored spotlights sweeping across the crowd as Prescott students start to dance, dragging their middle-class and one-percenter cousins into the fray.

We know how to create distractions here at Prescott High, right?

Cops? What cops?

I grab one of the unnamed Charter girls by her hair, yanking so hard that she falls on her ass, and then I drag her toward the exit, too. Pretty sure she’s Logan’s sidepiece. His girlfriend is already after Vic, trying to free her man from his iron grip. We enter the hallway as a group, each of us pulling at least one Charter Crew dickhead along with us. I say at least, because Callum and Hael have two each.

The doors slam closed behind us and a couple Havoc Crew girls use a key to unlock the janitor’s closet, grabbing an old pipe and shoving it through the handle of the door, effectively locking it.

I’d take more interest in them if I weren’t struggling with the bitch on the ground.

“Fuck you, you cunt!” she’s squalling, and even though we have no personal beef, I’m in a mood. I slam her head into the ground the same way I did Billie Charter, and then climb on top of her in my pretty pink skirt with the glittery appliques. My nails, however, are still a glorious matte black with coffin tips.

Seems appropriate.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Logan chokes out when Vic releases him. The other Charter brother stumbles back into a locker, hand around his throat. His girlfriend throws herself against his side, but he’s more focused on the bitch trapped between my thighs.

I backhand her across the face, spattering blood, and pause as Logan lets out a roar of rage. His girlfriend bristles, but she must be aware of Logan’s arrangement with … well, whoever this raven-haired chick is because she doesn’t seem surprised.

Vic lifts his hand, and I pause, sitting back but keeping my thighs clenched tight to keep the girl from squirming away.

The other Havoc Boys release their charges, and we form a stand-off right there in the hallway.

“Where is Mitch?” Victor asks, but Logan is so focused on the bleeding girl underneath me that he isn’t paying attention. Cal pulls a knife from his boot and rushes forward, grabbing Logan’s girlfriend and yanking her away from him. He places the knife against her throat, drawing a single drop of blood, just the way Aaron did with Ophelia. If only … Killing her at the beach house would’ve been risky as fuck, but then, would Aaron be here with us if we had?

“Pick a girl,” Cal growls out, his husky voice low and dangerous. “Which one do you like best, Logan?”

“Listen, I don’t know where my brother is,” Logan says, holding up both hands as his eyes dart between the two women. “He was supposed to be here already.”

“Where was he when you last spoke with him?” Victor asks as the girl underneath me starts to struggle again, and he nods. I hit her in the face, and she screams. I stay my hand and wait, looking up at Logan with one powdered brow quirked. Have to say, my brows are on fucking point tonight.

“Picking Kali up,” Logan explains, gesturing wildly and then glancing over at the other five boys in the hall with him, like he’s sizing up their chances. Technically, we’re outnumbered eight to five. But there’s no contest here and we all know it. “But now she’s talking to cops, and … Jesus. I don’t know what’s going on. Aren’t you satisfied yet? You killed Danny, and you killed Timmy, and—”

“Mitch was supposed to pick up Kali yet she’s here, and he isn’t?” Victor clarifies, and Logan makes a sound of frustration, glancing back at his boys again. They have yet to make a move, but Hael is ready. I can feel him tensed and waiting beside me. Oscar is as cool and calm as always.

“That’s what I said, ain’t it?” Logan snaps, looking between the girls again. “He isn’t answering his phone; I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“Mm.” Vic rubs his chin for a moment and then turns that intense stare of his down to me. “Keep the girl for leverage. Let the rest of them go.” I get his logic—we’re on campus, surrounded by cops—but still, the order stings a bit.

I’m ready to end this shit. Fuck, I’ve been ready since day one.

But I can’t blow everything we’ve worked for by being rash. I stand up and drag the girl to her knees by her hair as Logan steps forward and Victor levels him with a look.

“Do not test me tonight, Charter.”

“Don’t test you?!” he chokes out as I put the girl in a chokehold, ignoring her nails as she rakes them down by arms and makes me bleed. I can barely feel it. I have one task tonight, and that’s to find Aaron. Literally nothing else matters. By proxy, Kali will die, but that’s just a bonus. “You killed Timmy. You killed Danny. First chance you get you’re going to off me, too. So, what the hell do I have to lose?”

“Uh, your girl?” Hael suggests, slipping a knife out from his back pocket. Well, shit, I guess Callum Park isn’t the only boy in our group that can slip weapons past security with ease. He unsheathes the blade and puts the end of it against the raven-haired girl’s belly. She goes completely still; she must understand we’re not posturing here.

Nah, tonight Havoc is playing for keeps.

“Fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Logan groans, shoving the heels of his hands against his forehead as he paces in a tight circle. The other Charter boys do nothing. Actually, I stand corrected. As we stand there, one of them turns and takes off running down the hallway.

Nobody stops him.

We’re not about slaughter here at Prescott High: we’re about submission.

“Anyone else want to walk away from this and live?” Victor asks, sliding his hands into his pockets and smiling. If I could only use one word to describe the expression on his face, it would be this: delicious. I want to lick it off and consume it. Bet it’d taste like dark things, murder, and fucking. “It’s over, Logan. Your brother and Kali have gotten mixed up in something they cannot finish.” Vic takes a step forward and Logan shrinks back. “I’m going to give you two choices here: submit and spill info. Or defy us and spill blood.”

“You have thirty seconds to decide,” Oscar adds, turning his iPad around so Logan can stare at the ticking of a countdown clock. Hael presses the blade harder into the girl’s stomach and Logan just collapses.

Callum moves forward to grab him, and the rest of the Charter Crew boys take off down the hallway after the first dissenter.

Do I believe that they’re really done fucking with us? Mm. Depends. Where is Mitch? Because an army without a general is like a chicken without a head.

“What do you want to know?” Logan groans as Callum shoves him back against the bank of lockers. His girlfriend is still here, despite the fact that I’m holding Logan’s side girl hostage. She seems determined to stay, hovering off to one side.

There’s a story here, but it isn’t one I’m interested in. No, in this tale, I am the main character.

“What do you know about Neil Pence?” Victor asks, hands still in his pockets, like he’s getting ready to take a stroll instead of, you know, interrogating someone.

“Neil …” It takes Logan a second to figure out who that is, but when he does, his eyes light up with recognition. “Yeah, the cop, right? Bernadette’s dad?”

“Stepdad,” I correct automatically, releasing my hold on the girl just enough that I can be sure she’s actually breathing. I have no idea who she is, and I’m not killing a girl I don’t even know.

“He came to us, man. Said he could help us bury bodies and shit …” Logan eyes Callum with no small amount of fear. Good for him. He can sense that the smiling blond with the blue eyes and lush mouth is twice as likely to snap his neck as the redhead with the knife. Good instincts. “He knows some dude at the morgue who helps him dispose of them.”

Ding, ding, ding.

“I knew it,” I whisper as Logan licks his lips, glancing between the raven-haired girl and the blonde before turning his attention back to Victor.

“Why?” Victor asks, his stare so intense that if I were Logan, I’d be squirming like a butterfly pinned to a wall. “You’re a Prescott kid. You know as well as we do that nobody ever does anything for free.”

“Bernadette,” Logan says, pointing past Victor and toward me. “He said it was all about getting Bernadette when she was hiding behind you.”