Page 44 of Raise Hell

“She wanted to come,” Olivia replies with a goading smile. “You can’t expect her to spend all of her freshman year hiding under a rock.”

That is exactly what I fucking expect, actually. My sister is here for a stellar education she wouldn’t be able to get otherwise, not to become a statistic.

“Forgive me if I don’t want her turning out anything like you.”

She smirks. “Might be a little late for that. Wait until you see the dress she’s wearing. I’m betting a guy like you would probably call that asking for it.”

I shove past Olivia. Her mocking laughter follows me as I rush down the stairs. I don’t wait to see if she’s following, even though the upstairs is completely off-limits to anyone who isn’t a Havoc Boy.

Right now, I’m concerned with something more important than keeping our secrets.

Call me a hypocrite, but it’s one thing to let the girls at this school make fools of themselves for the attention of Havoc Boys.

Letting it happen to Felicia is something else entirely.

Most people don’t know that my sister started at St. Bart’s, precisely because I didn’t want her to catch the wrong kind of attention. There are plenty of guys who would jump at the chance to get at me through her.

We have different last names and don’t look that much alike, so I thought it would be easy to keep my eye on her from afar.

But I couldn’t have anticipated the destructive force that is Olivia fucking Pratt.

The party is fully raging when I hit the main floor. I have to shove my way through as my gaze scans the crowd for my sister’s face. Her features are distinct, but she is also a foot shorter than me, so if someone is standing in between us, I’m not going to see her.

When I hear the sound of raucous male laughter and shocked feminine gasps, I make a beeline for the source. Those are the noises people make when they see something at a Havoc party that will definitely be what everyone is talking about the next day.

Felicia stands on top of a table in the kitchen, wearing a dress that wouldn’t look out of place in a strip club. Her hair is wild and flying around her head as she dances. She has an empty shot glass in her hand.

My baby sister looks like every other underclassman girl who sneaks into a Havoc party to announce she’s open for business.

Some random chick next to me has the nerve to start recording. I slap the phone out of her hand so hard it bounces on the wood floor and skitters away. “No filming in Havoc house.”

The girl makes an angry sound. She abruptly swallows back when she realizes I’m the one standing next to her.

I gesture at one of the pledges. They pick her up and carry her out over her frantic apologies and protests before she even has a chance to retrieve her phone.

Just another casualty of Havoc House. People know what they’re signing up for when they come here.

It doesn’t occur to me until that moment that I could have the same thing done to Olivia.

But as much as I’d enjoy watching her get tossed out on her ass, I need to handle her myself. The fact that she got into this party in the first place is just more evidence that a pledge won’t be enough to handle her.

My gaze returns to the table just in time to catch Felicia awkwardly twerking. The skirt of her dress is so short it ends up around her hips. At least I can be grateful she isn’t the type of girl to go out in public without underwear.

I’m burning that dress as soon as she changes out of it.

“Oh, shit,” Olivia says loudly from behind me. “She’s drunk.”

If looks could kill, Olivia Pratt would be nothing but dust. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“Yours, probably. But the cat is out of the bag now. I guess you should have pulled the trigger on that chastity belt when you had the chance.”

I don’t believe in violence against women as a general rule, but she is quickly pushing me to the point where I’m willing to make an exception. “You need to leave before I pull a different trigger.”

Shifting closer to the table, I consider my limited options. A huge crowd has already gathered, with more people coming to see what all the commotion is about. If I make a big scene and pull Felicia down from the table, people are going to want to know why I did it.

Drake Van Koch ruining the fun will shine an even bigger spotlight on her than dancing on a table ever could. Once Felicia is no longer the center of attention, I can probably sneak her out without anyone noticing. But there is no telling how long that will take, or what might happen between now and then.

I don’t have any choice but to let this happen.

---