Chaos at Prescott High Read online C.M. Stunich (The Havoc Boys #2)

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Havoc Boys Series by C.M. Stunich
Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 135690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Chaos at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

C.M. Stunich

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B08C4W9TFS
Book Information:

There's one gang you don't piss off at Prescott High, not unless you want them to destroy you. The Havoc Boys. My enemies turned friends turned lovers.
These boys have never been saints, but this war that's brewing is resurrecting their inner demons. Once upon a time, I was their target. This time, I'm calling the shots. Senior year is my year.
This year, I'm going to bring down my enemies. This year, I'm going to run my tongue along the blade of vengeance and taste blood. The Havoc Boys are mine, and we were here first.
You don't mess with a Havoc Girl without paying the price. You don't start a rebellion without a little bloodshed. My boys and I don't mind using two wrongs to make a right—I just hope our brewing obsession with one another doesn't kill us all first.
CHAOS AT PRESCOTT HIGH is a 150,000 word mature high school/new adult romance with enemies-to-lovers/love-hate themes. It has brief flashbacks of past bullying incidents as well as foul language and sexual scenes; any sex featured is consensual. This is a reverse harem novel, meaning the main character has more than one love interest. This is book two of three in the series.
Books in Series:

The Havoc Boys Series by C.M. Stunich

Books by Author:

C.M. Stunich



Two months earlier …

Victor Channing

“We can’t do this to her,” Aaron says, looking me dead in the face. I try to keep the ugly smile off my lips. He doesn’t stand up to me often; he must really love Bernadette.

I almost scoff but manage to keep the emotion to myself.

Of course he loves Bernadette.

We all do.

But none of them more than me.

“Do this to her?” Oscar echoes, looking askance at Aaron. He’s sitting in the front row of the school theater, iPad in hand, as shrewd and calculating as always. More often than not, I let him come up with Havoc’s price. He understands numbers and risk in ways I never will. I’d trust him with my life.

Just … not today.

Things are going to be a little different today.

“You know what I mean,” Aaron says, pushing up off the prop he’s leaning against to come stand near the edge of the stage. I look up at him, but even though he’s a good six feet above me, I’m not intimidated. I’m not intimidated by anything anymore. Shit, I haven’t felt real fear since I was five years old. “We owe Bern in a way we don’t owe anyone else.”

“Let’s just give her something easy, smack her ass a bit, and send her on her way,” Hael says, taking a black leather devil mask from Callum’s fingers and slipping it over his face. “Shit, I’d pay to kick Principal Vaughn’s ass for her.”

I slide my fingers into the pockets of my jeans and lean back against the stage, pretending to contemplate their words. I’ll admit, when Bernadette stormed up to me in the hall on the first day of school, opening up those poison-painted lips to call Havoc, I was surprised. Then pleased. Then desperately, unbelievably sad.

Because if she’s calling Havoc, then it means she has nothing to lose. It means the butterfly I tried to set free no longer has wings. I can keep her, but she’ll never fly again. Instead, if she wants to rule in this world, she’s going to have to do it crawling on her belly like a snake.

A gruff laugh escapes me as I light up a cigarette and take a long drag, the cherry crackling in the quiet theater.

I know all about snakes. I’m one myself, a venomous motherfucker who knows where and when to strike to inflict the most damage. That’s what I specialize in now, inflicting damage, dispensing nightmares.

Victor, you lonely, desperate asshole, I think, as Oscar makes a sound of disgust.

“She came to us,” he says, but I know he’s just like the rest of them. He doesn’t want her around, not the way I do. Nobody wants her around the way I do. “We have to at least give her a presentable price or our reputation is shattered.”

“Hasn’t she paid more than her fair share for our bullshit?” Cal asks, his broken voice like a shattered star. There used to be light there, but now … ain’t nothing but a black hole. I frown and lift my head up. Aaron is still staring at me, always fucking staring at me. He blames me for taking his girl away. If you ask me, he should’ve fought harder if he wanted her so bad. “Ask her to kick Kali Rose-Kennedy’s ass for us.” He flashes a dark grin before slipping a monster mask over his face. Not much difference between the mask and the man, not for any of us.

We are all monsters.

And you’re about to make Bernadette one, too, aren’t you, Victor?

“We need to make use of her,” Oscar muses, like he’s actually considering that bullshit price. “But I’d prefer it if she were as far away from us as possible. Let’s have her move, say, fifty thousand in product. As pretty as she is, it shouldn’t be hard to do by the end of the year.”

This time, when I laugh, the sound is loud and raucous, echoing around the dark space of the Prescott High School theater. Really? My beautiful Bernadette’s time wasted selling weed? Not while I’m still breathing; my girl has potential.

“No, I don’t think so,” I say, studying my cigarette. I can feel Aaron’s eyes narrow on me, even before I turn around. He knows how selfish I am, how much I want the girl that was supposed to be his. “If Bernadette wants Havoc’s help, she’ll have to become one of us.”

“What?!” Aaron roars as I turn my head slowly to look at him, a wicked smile blooming across my face. He looks at me like he wants to kill me. Maybe he does, I don’t know, but this is Havoc. Blood in, blood out. Who knows what might happen?

“I want Bernadette Blackbird to be …” I almost say my girl, but I don’t. That’s not a fair price for anyone. Everything we do, it has to be for Havoc, for the benefit of Havoc. “Our girl. A Havoc girl.” I stab my cigarette out in the built-in ashtray on one of the theater chairs. That’s how old this place is; the chairs haven’t been replaced since the early nineties. “I want her to be one of us.”

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