Cry Havoc (Vengeance is Mine Book 3) by Ashley Gee

Author:Ashley Gee [Gee, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Monday morning finds me in the dining hall for breakfast and more than a little annoyed that Drake is giving me the space I asked of him.

“Are you guys going to the funeral?” Anya asks in a stage whisper as she sets her tray down on the table.

I have to assume she is talking about Brady. “I don’t even know when it is, so probably not.”

Felicia has her head buried in a textbook as she shovels food into her mouth. When she sat down, she announced that her European History professor does pop quizzes on the assigned reading before each class and hasn’t said another word since.

She shakes her head in a negative before turning the page.

Anya shoots me an incredulous look. “How did I hear about it and you didn’t? Brady is getting some huge Havoc House send off to the glorious beyond. People are planning to caravan into the city and throw some kind of hotel party after the reception. Then they’re having the Bacchanal at Club Havoc, of all places, the next night. The entire weekend is going to be wild. Please tell me you’re in.”

The same weekend as they’re planning to have the Initiation. Something tells me that Brady’s death won’t be enough to cancel it. Another coincidence that probably isn’t one.

Drake and I haven’t spoken since the night of Brady’s death. The Havoc party set for Saturday was cancelled. From what I heard, the guys just sat around drinking Brady’s favorite whiskey and toasting his memory. I hadn’t been invited to join them, which is probably for the best. It would have been hard enough to pretend that I was in mourning, much less resist the urge to confront my boyfriend.

If he even is my boyfriend anymore.

It’s my own fault for expecting him to grovel. Drake is not the kind of guy who responds well to the silent treatment. He provided his explanation and made his apology. Now, it’s up to me if I want to accept it or not. The guy was raised by a raving narcissist. He spent most of his childhood being wronged with no expectation of getting an apology. That he admitted to the lie before I caught him and apologized without prompting is a watershed moment for him.

I hate how clearly I can see him because it makes it hard to stay angry.

But I’m really trying.

“People want to turn a funeral into a party?” I ask incredulously, Anya’s words finally sinking in.

She shrugs like that’s a totally reasonable thing to do. “Sounds like it.”

“When?”

Anya doesn’t even have to think about it. “Not this weekend, but the next.”

“Classy.”

“Obviously, we’re not talking about bringing a keg to the gravesite.” Anya pops a grape into her mouth and meditatively chews on it. “Well, I hope that’s not what people are talking about. Drake hasn’t said anything to you?”

“He has not.” I spear a piece of cantaloupe with my fork, imagining for a split second that it’s his face. “I didn’t see him all weekend.

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