“Yeah?” I ask, feeling my stomach tighten with nerves. Now that I've seen what Havoc does in the dark, I'm simultaneously intrigued and nervous as fuck. “I should've known. You boys like to double down, don't you?” He shrugs again, but his vagary bullshit isn't enough, not today, not after the month we just had. “Won't it look bad for your guys' cases, to take off after being arrested? I mean, the VGTF is a segment of the FBI, isn't it?”

Victor laughs, this deep, throaty, male laugh that just oozes confidence. I can practically feel it coating my skin, poisoning my blood with lust. He's everything I never wanted in a man, but everything I need. He balances out my dark side in the best possible way.

“Fuck the VGTF,” he says, examining the long train of ash at the end of his cigarette. “They don't have shit on us.” He lifts his head to look at me, his purple-dark hair falling across his forehead and making my heart spasm in my chest. He has no goddamn right to be so pretty, so smug, so rude, so good in bed. Ugh, fuck Victor Channing and the horse he rode in on. “They only came after us because Brittany started running her mouth.” He stabs his smoke out in the ashtray on the nightstand. To be honest, I didn't think Oregon had smoking rooms in hotels anymore. Color me surprised and elated.

Victor pauses for a long moment, staring at the oil painting on the wall across from him.

“Fucking Brittany,” he grinds out after a moment, clenching his teeth against her name. “I should castrate Hael to keep him in line. We don't have the resources to deal with a Fuller High brat and her angry Protestant cop-daddy.”

“There are already rumors circulating the Prescott High social media circuit. Everyone thinks you guys broke out of the station and are on the lam.” I down the rest of my drink as Victor laughs again.

“Oh, please,” he says, looking back at me with his ebon eyes. “We lawyered up and skipped the fuck out of there singing show tunes. Once Oscar's finished with Brittany's dad, he'll be facing charges for what he did to us.” Vic cocks his head to one side, like an animal who's just scented blood in the water. “The only factor we don't have under control here is Ms. Keating.”

I close my eyes against the Vice Principal's name, a sick feeling churning in my stomach.

Breonna Keating is still in the hospital, and she has yet to wake up. But when she does, she's going to tell a story about Neil Pence, and about me, and I need to figure out how to deal with that when the time comes. The thought of calling her a liar makes me sick.

I've decided that Ms. Keating is not human.

How can she be? She's too nice. She makes me question everything I know about the world.

“Leave her to me, okay?” I say, and Vic turns slowly to look at me, assessing, curiosity apparent in his dark gaze. It's hard for me to focus on it though because his dick is just sort of … there, hanging out and taunting me. I'm having trouble concentrating. Fuck me, I'm dick drunk, I think with a groan. “Don't look at me like that, Victor.”

“You're afraid of what we might do to her?” he asks, and I shrug. I mean, look at them. They kill people, they bury them alive, they castrate them. But Ms. Keating is … she's different. I don't know how to explain it to Victor, but hurting her would mean losing everything that I am.

I want justice, even if it hurts. Even if the cost is high.

I do not want slaughter.

“She defended me against Neil, even though she was terrified to speak up. That has to count for something?” I almost sound like I'm pleading, but then, that's not really my thing. “I'm queen of Havoc now, asshole. You share a crown.”

Victor laughs at me yet again, but this time, the sound of it is different. He sounds … mirthful? Weird.

“Okay, wife. You can deal with Ms. Keating—just so long as she is dealt with.” He turns back to me, and there's a glint in his eyes that makes me sweat. The animal in me is both intrigued and terrified. Either he is hunting, or he is readying to mate. Since I'm not a goddamn animal, I know it's the latter, but his expression, his intent, the way his body tenses up … it could be either. “But first, you have to show me you know how to suck dick.”

I narrow my eyes on him.

“I don't have to do shit,” I snap back, but really, he knows he's getting to me.

“No?” he asks, grinning like the psycho he is. “But you want to. What's the difference? This whole time we've been here, we've been fucking like rabbits and yet, you haven't put my cock in your mouth.”

“Because you won't stay away from my pussy,” I snarl back at him, but I'm already anticipating taking him into my hand and squeezing my fingers around the thick base of his shaft, putting the heavy weight of him on my tongue. There can be power in it, in oral sex. If you let a guy put you on your knees, cool. But you also have his dick between your teeth, and if you're not afraid to bite down …

“What can I say?” Vic purrs, putting a palm on either side of me and leaning in so that I can smell him. He smells like fresh sweat, and Scotch, and cigarette smoke, and I'm absolutely living for it. Getting married at seventeen, in all reality, is dumb as fuck. Like, I'd make fun of anyone else for doing it. But, this is me and Vic and Havoc, and it just works. “I like your cunt. I like filling you with my seed. I'm primal and stupid and horny. Wanna try to tame me, Bernadette?”

I give him a dark look.

We both know Vic can never be tamed.

“I don't know, Victor. When you find your balls, let me know. Because I'm pretty sure I stole them in the last few weeks.” He chuckles, pushing his face up against the side of my throat and grazing my tender skin with his teeth.

“Do not mistake my being nice to you as anything but that: a favor. It is not submission. It never will be.” I reach up and grab him by the hair, and he returns the gesture, doing the same to me. Unfortunately, I'm the one who lets out a gasp first.

Asshole.

“Suck me off, so I can kiss you and taste my cum on your lips.”

“I hate you,” I whisper back at him, but when he slants his mouth to mine and kisses me, all I can taste is his carnal appetite, endless and yawning like a chasm, insatiable. And yet, I want nothing more than to try my very best to fill it.

Victor's tongue sweeps mine, a hot fury that soon takes over my conscious mind. I blame it on the magic of the honeymoon, but really, it's just us. Me and him. We are sin incarnate, and we both know it. My legs spread of their own accord, but thankfully, when Vic starts to undulate his hips against me, we have the sheet to protect us. Doesn't stop him from putting the very tip in, but the fabric's in our way and he ends up cursing and growling against my mouth.

“This is what I was talking about,” I murmur against his lips. With a string of colorful curses, Vic sits up and rakes his fingers through his hair. His pupils are so dilated that his irises look entirely black. In reality, they're a very dark brown, but it's impossible to see the color without a whole lot of light. “Now, get on your back.”

He gives a derisive snort, and I scowl.

“Nah, how about you get on your knees for me?” he asks, cocking a brow as he stands up and yanks me to my feet. I try to keep the sheets with me, but end up tripping over them and falling into his tattooed arms. His grandmother's ring sparkles on my finger as I curl my hand around his bicep.