Page 159 of Lessons in Cruelty

I might even leave Haven alone and concentrate on enjoying the party.

Yeah, who the fuck am I kidding?

Tormenting this girl has become my favorite pastime.

The entire time Hillary’s been droning on about fundraising, all I could think about is how I’m going to make Haven’s life a living hell.

Vaseline on her doorknob. Hiding her textbooks right before a test. Fucking with her laundry so she only has one outfit to wear.

Childish shit that’ll make her paranoid as fuck.

I’ll sign her up for every campus volunteer opportunity until she’s drowning in commitments. Heavenly can’t refuse them, not without looking ungrateful.

Spreading rumors will probably do the most damage, though.

Her and Rooke.

Maybe a pic or two of her sleeping in her car. Old news, sure, but it’ll stoke the fire.

Hell, I could go full scorched earth. Call in an anonymous tip about a student with a meth problem. I know where to score that shit. I’ll plant it in her room, get her grant revoked. Make sure she ends up exactly where she started—sleeping in that piece of shit car, giving hand jobs for grocery money.

But no. That’s too quick. Too merciful.

I want to savor this. Draw it out. Make her suffer in ways that leave no bruises for Rooke to kiss better.

Starting with letting everyone know exactly what kind of trash just moved into their pristine sorority house.

“Speaking of donations,” I cut in, the words a little muffled with my plastic straw in my mouth. I try to always keep a sucker on me. It’s probably the only thing that’s helped me quit cigarettes.

Fuck nicotine patches. Raspberry suckers are the way to go.

“Maybe your new sister has some ideas. You know, from personal experience.”

Haven’s eyes snap to mine, wide with alarm.

I rock back on my chair and grin. Widely. Showing all my fucking teeth.

“You’re from Riverside, right?”

I can literally see the blood draining from her face, but just as quickly, spots of color bloom in her cheeks. Panicked eyes narrow into slits.

“Yeah. Just like you, Kai.”

Jesus. The bitch has teeth.

I pretend I don’t hear her.

“Who better to tell us what the poor need than someone who probably dug through donation bins as a kid?”

Melissa leans forward to catch my eye, mouth opening on a protest, but I’m not done.

“What do charity cases like you need, Haven?” I stage-whisper, my sucker stick pointing her way.

She flushes, and just for a moment, I swear I can see those marks around her throat.

And fuck if that doesn’t make me hard.

I did that. Me.