Ruthless (Black Mountain Academy) - Mila Crawford Page 0,3

in a naive way. I didn’t like how the warmth in them made me feel. People with warm eyes always think they can fix shit. They annoy me. They usually have no idea how life works and live in one of those happily-ever-after books. She’d probably go on to have some boring life with a guy who was nice enough, pop out a few kids, and then die—not really doing anything wrong, but not really living. Those eyes made me want to be cruel. I felt a small tinge of guilt but I squashed that shit quickly. Humans are mostly bad; none of them deserves much. The mouse wasn’t any different.

My eyes took in her body; she didn’t look like most girls my age. Most of them were rail thin, so thin that they looked like they barfed more than they put into their mouths. Not this chick though, she had curves. Some would call her fat, but not me. I liked how soft she looked. In another life I might have called her pretty, beautiful even.

This girl didn’t seem to give a fuck about fashion; she looked like she was going to church, wearing her Sunday best. She was probably a naive little thing; she probably spent her whole life never experiencing anything more painful than breaking a fucking nail.

I crossed the distance between us, wanting to invade her space. A sick part of me liked that she had nowhere to go now that she was in a chair. I leaned over and put my arms on either side of her, getting really close to the little mouse. Her warm eyes rounded, her pretty, pink lips forming an O.

“Are you deaf? I asked you a question. What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, moving my face closer so there wasn’t much space between us. I could see her breathing growing shallower, her pupils dilating as her heavy tits moved in rapid succession.

I wasn’t sure if I was scaring her or turning her on.

“Mrs. Sinclair told me to come up here to find a book,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Did she now?” Monica really needed to understand that people weren’t welcome here. It was the only fucking place in this house I could stand.

I looked the little mouse in the eyes, letting the silence around us take the lead.

In my life, I’ve learned one thing: people don’t like silence. Most of them would talk about anything just to avoid it. Yet this little mouse seemed to welcome it, she looked at me, eyes startled but still gazing into mine, holding her ground. That show of strength never happened to me. There she sat, calm as fuck, and it made me angry that she was being defiant. I wasn’t used to defiance; I lived for compliance.

Now her pouty lips looked like pink cotton candy.

Pink cotton candy? What the fuck?

Her pretty mouth trembled and I knew I was winning this staring contest, I usually did. She finally broke contact, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

“Excuse me,” she uttered as she tried to push past my arms barricading her. I should have let it go. I should have let her run out of the room like the scared little mouse that she was, but I wanted her to suffer. I wanted to punish her for being so damn sunny, so innocent.

I leaned even closer, my lips just barely touching hers. I could see the barrier of liquid forming in her eyes. She was trying hard to hold them back, but her emotions betrayed her and a single tear danced elegantly down her sweet round face.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing each other again, little mouse. Now get the fuck out,” I spat, going for the kill.

She scurried up, and for a moment hesitated, before she pushed past my arm, I allowed her to break the barrier, still managing to brush my hand against hers, and for just a second she lifted her eyes and looked at me, daggers sharpening behind her tear-soaked eyes.

But that strength only lasted a second. She dropped her head in defeat then, running out of the library as if she was on fire.

I walked back to the chair to pick up the book, cradling it gently in my hands. I laughed at my own insanity. I didn’t want her to go, but I had no problems making her cry. I was a sick, twisted fuck. She’d done nothing to me; all she’d done was have the nerve to touch