Page 42 of Ravage

I've seen Vivian around, mostly hanging with Siobhan and Eliana. She seems to be doing okay—at least on the outside. But if she's feeling anything like I am, it's a deadly curse. I'm on edge, tiptoeing across a tightrope. One sudden gust of wind and I'll fall off into oblivion.

"Psst, little killer."

A smile creeps onto my face, a rush of heat sliding over my cheeks as I feel eyes on me. Charmaine is busy pacing at the front of the room, droning on about classical literature. She takes no notice of the fact that Grey is practically rotated ninety-degrees in his chair, facing me.

"Ssh," I scold him playfully under my breath. "Pay attention."

I twirl my pencil between my fingers, stopping to point it at Charmaine. I pretend to give a shit about the so-called academia that is offered here. I can't help but wonder how much Charmaine knows—whether she understands that it's a waste of time. She's not teaching us our future—she's distracting us from our impending deaths.

Grey raises an eyebrow, his mouth forming a smirk. I watch as his eyes dart to my pencil, excitement in them.

"I'm not stabbing you," I grumble quietly, feeling a sense of déjà vu. "But I might letyouimpalemeif you behave."

Maybe Ihavegone insane and my brain scrambled by Dr. West's machines. Never in a million years would I say something like that out loud. I nearly cringe at myself except for the fact his lips part and his eyes flash with stunned, heated need.

Quickly turning my attention back to Charmaine, I pretend to listen, ignoring the burning gaze on me which doesn't move for the rest of the class.

As soon as the bell rings for free time, I've barely gotten to my feet when an arm swings out, grabbing my wrist and yanking me toward the door. People are shoved out of our way as Grey drags me to the library, ignoring the guards that attempt to keep some level of order as patients flock out of classrooms.

I can't resist the laugh that breaks out of my throat when I'm shoved through the library doors, stumbling slightly until I gather stability. Turning around to find Grey, he grabs hold of the end of the nearest bookshelf, pulling the wooden structure until the side snaps off with a crunch.

He shoves the broken wood between the two door handles, turning around to face me. His eyes are darkened, a look that anyone else would describe as psychotic—reminding me that I'm playing a dangerous game.

"You want me to impale you?" he asks, taking a step toward me.

Instinctively, I step back, shrugging playfully. "Did I say that? I don't think I did."

He doesn't pause his movements, slowly creeping toward me like an animal about to attack its prey. I realize I only have a matter of seconds before he'll have me cornered, and I turn, sprinting to the tables, ducking around to the other side. The sound of his loud footsteps echo behind me and I quickly dash to the other end, putting a table between us.

"Do you think you can outrun me?" Grey teases, stalking around slowly.

We circle each other, my mind and body extremely conscious of the fact that he could leap across the table if he wanted to. But something tells me he's enjoying the chase—the thrill of hunting me and letting me believe I'm getting away.

"I'll keep trying," I taunt back, picking up pace when his movements speed up.

Grey laughs, eyes dancing. "It's cute that you think you'll win. I'm almost tempted to let you."

"Don't underestimate me," I shoot back. "I could be quite fast."

He stops walking, making me halt in the process. My heart starts racing as I try to anticipate his next move.

Suddenly, he pushes himself off the ground, sliding across the table on his ass. I let out a squeal, running to gain distance, but a hand swipes out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me backwards.

My back hits his chest with a thud, arms pinned to my sides by strong hands. Grey pushes me onto the table, bending me over so my chest is squished into the laminated wood.

"One would almost think that you wanted to be caught," he murmurs, locking my hands behind my back. "I guess that's what happens when you bite off more than you can chew."

"What makes you think I can't handle it?" I breathe out, my cheek pressed into the table as I stare up at him out of the corner of my eye.

Holding my hands together with one of his, he trails the other down my back, stopping on my ass. He squeezes it before lifting my skirt up in a painfully slow manner.

"Maybe you're right," he says quietly, running a finger over my underwear. "But you're already wet for me. Does being chased turn you on, little killer?"

I bite back a moan, closing my eyes. Shaking my head as well as I can from this position, I play stubborn. "Nope."

"Liar."

Grey slides my underwear to the side, exposing me to the cool air. The sudden movement makes me gasp quietly, his finger trailing down the centre of my lips. Even with his soft touch, it sends shivers racing up my entire body.

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