Page 9 of Of Heathens & Havoc

“Iknow,” Saint says with finality.

I shrug, shaking out my arms, already buzzing with energy. “I wouldn’t mind making her pay for the two years of my life she destroyed.”

More than two years. That shit will follow me for the rest of my life, that charge. Even though juvenile records are sealed, everyone found out. This is a small town. Everyone knows what Iwas accused of, what Mercy says I did. I’ll never work here, never walk down the street of my hometown without people staring. Maybe calling it my hometown is too generous. I wasn’t born in this shithole. Not sure what it says about me that I stay, even after everything. Probably that I’m crazy as a shithouse cat, like Dad always jokes. Guess it runs in the family. We’re all a little unhinged in our own ways. After all, we’re all still in Faulkner, not just me.

Even here at Thorncrown, I can’t go to church without the congregation whispering.

There’s that boy.

I can’t believe they let him walk free.

After what he did to that girl.

Such a shame…

My blood boils with rage. It will be a shame, what I’ll do to that girl.

Just not the one they’re talking about.

“No,” Saint growls at me. “No one touches Mercy. I’ll make sure she’s gone.”

“You better,” I say. “Or she won’t be fucking innocent for long.”

I turn and stalk out of the room. I can’t remember the last time I was pissed at Saint. Maybe never. We don’t disagree on shit. We’re a brotherhood, the Hellhounds. We have each other’s backs. Even before we came to Thorncrown and joined the secret society, we were brothers. More than he’sherbrother, that’s for fucking sure.

Even when I was in juvie and they’d both gotten out, they wrote me letters, because that was the only way we could communicate. Like it wasn’t enough to lock us up, they had to treat us like we were goddamn preteen girls in the nineties writing to our pen pals. But that’s what we got. We weren’t allowed phones. My friends couldn’t visit because the state saidthey weren’t family, even though we are. They don’t count the kind of brotherhood we’d formed during the trial. Before that we were close, and we might have even called ourselves brothers. But the trial cemented us together. That’s when I knew they’d stand by me no matter what, even when their families didn’t.

At least parts of their families.

I remember Mercy on the stand, nervously telling the judge what I did to her at Angel’s that day, like that proved I was capable of fucking murder.

A smile stretches my lips even though I’m seething. Saint says she so innocent, but I know the truth. I’m the only stain on that innocence. I wish I’d tattooed my cum into her skin. She fucking deserves it.

I step into the confession booth and pull it closed before I get to work. I think about the games coming up, and how much fun I’ll have. I’ll get all this pent-up frustration out then. I almost feel sorry for the girls I catch.

Like lambs to the slaughter.

I have more chaos in my veins than usual now that I’ve seen Mercy Soules for the first time since she turned on us. I’m ready to play a little game.

Too fucking bad she won’t be among the girls. The things I’d do if I caught her…

I can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. When I’m walking back to my dorm. When I’m listening to confession. When I’m jerking off.

Maybe it’s time to lift the curtain on Mercy Soules. Even her brother thinks she’s untouchable, that she’s pure of heart. But I know better.

The world deserves to know. They deserve to know she’s not as pure and innocent as they believe.

Soon, Saint and Angel will know it too. They just need a little push.

Luckily I have just the little push I need to convince them.

I could tell them ahead of time, but where’s the fun in that? I like the games. We all do, if we’re honest with ourselves. We’re all heathens, no more evolved than animals.

Some are predators, and some are prey, but in our deepest natures, none of us can deny our makeup, our DNA, our instinct. We all want what animals do—something to eat, someone to rut, a place in the pack where we belong.

And the three of us, we belong firmly on the predator side of the divide.

Saint will be pissed that I defied him, but so fucking what? We make our own rules. And my rule is the best one of all—there are no rules. Saint knows that. He accepts me for it just the way I accept him, even though vengeance runs in his veins like havoc runs in mine. He’s still loyal to me above her, and once he knows the truth about her, he’ll want to break her even more than I do.

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