Page 25 of Raise Hell

Olivia is getting under my skin in a way that is frankly unnerving.

“Just don’t start thinking with your dick.” Vaughn swings his huge duffel bag over his shoulder, and I step back just before it hits me. “Fuck her into the ground if you want, but don’t get attached.”

My hands clench around the strap of my own bag. “Is that advice for me or for you?”

Vaughn stiffens. He clearly forces himself to relax as he gives me a mocking smile.

“I saw the way you looked at her.” At the expression on my face, he holds up his hands as if to ward off a blow, even though his laugh is mocking. “And I agree, the girl is sexy as hell and dirty as a dime store hooker. I’m just reminding you that Havoc House can’t afford any more mistakes. I know how you get around forbidden fruit.”

“The way I get, huh?” My tone is caustic, because I’m way more annoyed than I should be. Olivia Pratt has become an open wound, and we won’t stop poking at it until it heals. “You sure it’s not your dick that we should be worried about?”

“If I let her anywhere near it, she’d probably chew my balls up and spit them back out. So, no thanks.” Vaughn’s laugh is easy, even though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “C’mon, enough with the bickering. Let’s just stay focused on what’s important. Getting rid of Olivia Pratt before she causes any more problems with Havoc House.”

He makes it sound so easy.

Despite my easy victory today in Dr. Hewey’s class, I get the feeling Olivia isn’t going to leave St. Bart’s for good over a little embarrassment. I need to make my next move before she decides to make hers.

“Yeah, I got it.”

“So it’s decided, then?” At the obvious question in my gaze, he elaborates. “We’ll make Olivia officially off limits. Any guy at St. Bart’s who even offers to open a door for her will feel the wrath of Havoc House. We’ll shut her out so completely that even a true glutton for punishment will think it’s too much to take. She obviously wants attention, so we’ll give her the opposite.

It’s more than a little sick, considering what she went through. But nobody asked her to come back here.

“Do it.”

There will always be casualties of war.

* * *

Piercing noise startlesme awake from a dreamless sleep.

I roll up on my elbow with a curse, my head aching the way it always does when I wake up too suddenly.

It was just supposed to be a little nap after practice. But when my eyes squint open, all I see outside is darkness. Closing my eyes again, I collapse back on the bed with a groan as a blaring sound assaults my ears.

“You have a video call.”

One of the pledges — I think his name is Mark — holds my tablet out to me. I take it without bothering to get out of bed before waving him away. The thing must have been going off for a while if one of the pledges worked up the nerve to come in and wake me up.

Normally, I’d respond by making him lick his dinner off the floor, but I don’t have the energy to do much more than remain conscious. “Fuck off.”

Mark scurries out of the room before I can change my mind.

Forcing my eyes open completely, I look at the screen and curse again. My father is saved in my contacts with both his first and last name, Anton Van Koch.

Like we’re business associates who traded numbers so we could meet for drinks after work.

When I was first presented to him as a trembling fifth grader in hand-me-down clothing, he introduced himself as Mr. Van Koch.

I answer the call, and my father’s stern face fills the screen. I’m not surprised to see the plush interior of a private jet in the background. Like always, he deals with me in between more important obligations.

“I hear we have a problem.”

We have a standing meeting on his calendar once every quarter and barely talk outside of that. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Is my growing concern about the future of Havoc House specific enough for you?”

“You’re being cryptic. Am I supposed to know what that means?”

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