7. Lex
7
LEX
T hat lecture was boring as fuck.
I crack my knuckles then the back of my neck. I’ve been stuck in this place too fucking long. I don’t even know why we were sent to this backwater location in the first place. We could have been studying in Paris. The food here is terrible, though I try to make the best of it with what I can forage in the local area.
I do know, though, even if I try to deny it. Our father has a history of wanting to put distance between us and him. Our mother left when we were only babies, and since then we were raised by a revolving door of wannabe stepmothers and nannies. I cringe at the thought of one of the nannies in particular.
Besides, our father decided we’d never survive Paris. We’d end up either dead or locked up. Young and wild, with zero shits given for any consequences of our actions. That we’re identical twins means people remember us, too. Good. I want people to remember us, to know who we are. If we have to rule people by fear, then so be it.
No one disrespects us and gets away with it.
It’s lunchtime, so I head into the cafeteria. I’ll have to make do with a burger and fries since I don’t have time to cook for myself every mealtime, unfortunately. At home, we’d take time to eat, to sip a glass of red wine while enjoying seared tuna in a salad, but here eating is like a chore—something to be gotten over with as quickly as possible.
I spot one of the other Vipers, Zane, across the room. First, I grab my food, and then I head over to him. As always, I try not to stare at the red, angry scar that runs right across his throat. He doesn’t like us calling attention to it. He hasn’t even told us the full truth about what happened to him—only that he was attacked and it left him with damage to his vocal cords. His body language always changes when we bring it up, though—like he stiffens and curls in on himself, as though he’s trying to hide. We normally tell one another everything, and the fact he’s not shared makes me wonder how fucking awful it can be.
Something about him seems different. His spine is straight, his shoulders back, and there’s a new level of darkness in his eyes.
He taps out something on his phone then pushes it over to me.
There is a new girl. Curves for miles. Dark hair. Some ink too! Fresh meat .
I grin at him. “Is that right? We could do with some. I’m so fucking bored of the girls here.”
Came with a biker gang, he types . One of them caught me looking at her and threatened me.
Now I really am interested. “They threatened you?”
Yeah, to stay away from her. You know I only see that as a challenge. No one tells me what to do.
A challenge for Zane is a challenge for all three of us Vipers.
“Does Saint know yet?”
Zane shakes his head.
I don’t know where my brother has gotten to, but it’s not unlike him to take himself away from the chaos of Verona Falls for a while. The noise and people get to be too much for him, and he has to go and sit alone in the woods until his mind quiets again. If he doesn’t take that time out, he loses his shit, and that’s never pretty for whoever might be around.
I finish my food, grimacing at the taste, just as the bell goes for the start of that afternoon’s classes. I get to my feet, give Zane a light punch in the shoulder as I pass, and head to my class.
I walk into the room and stop short.
Like a rose among the thorns, there’s a girl sitting at one of the desks. I don’t recognize her except from the vague description Zane gave me.
Merde. What the fuck is she doing in our calculus class? She must have made a mistake. It’s understandable, since she’s new here, but that doesn’t mean she should get away with it. Women here know their place, and it needs to stay that way for our world to continue the way it must.
I approach the desk where she’s sitting. “Hey. You’re in the wrong room.”
She tilts her chin toward me. Her brown eyes are big and wide, and she flutters dark lashes, though it’s more out of nerves than her flirting with me.
“I don’t think I am.”
“Are you year three?” If she’s in our year, even better.
She shakes her head. “No, year one.”
“So, you’re definitely in the wrong class.”
She takes out her schedule and shoves it under my nose. “See, here. Calculus, room 3B with Mr. Fryatt.”
“ Non ,” I say.
She arches her eyebrows. “No?”
“Girls don’t take calculus here. You don’t need to.” The office has clearly screwed up big time. Giving the new girl the wrong year and wrong fucking class is bad, and I’ll be telling them.
“Why?”
“Because women don’t run our business, sweet-cheeks. You’re here to have the babies and make sure we have something tasty to come home to.” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively at her to ensure she understands that I’m not only talking about food.
She holds up one finger. “First of all, do not call me sweet-cheeks. My name is Ivani, or Vani, if three syllables is too much for you.” Another finger pops up. “Secondly, I will be running my own business one day, whether assholes like you want me to or not. Now, I suggest you go and sit down and mind your own goddamned business.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck .
Did she just dismiss me? This girl has clearly been taking too many lessons from her MC club. Like Zane said, no one tells us what to do.
I slam my hand down on the desk in front of her. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
At the front of the room, the teacher has entered.
“Mr. Laurant,” he says, clearly sensing trouble, “can you make your way to the desk please?”
I point at the new girl. “Not until she leaves.”
He clears his throat. “There is special dispensation for Ivani McGrath to take this class, so I’m sorry, but she will be staying.”
“ Conard ,” I hiss under my breath. Asshole.
I can’t fucking believe this. Who the hell is this girl that she gets special treatment? Not to mention that she’s a freshman.
I open my mouth, but he holds his hand up. “Go back to your seat.”
I stare at her as I pass, and she doesn’t look down at her paper but holds my gaze. I can see the fear in her eyes, but she refuses to look away.
Saint should be here, but he’s clearly decided to skip class, too. I want him to see her, because this girl isn’t just cocky and beautiful, she’s smart.
It rubs me the wrong way.
Zane should be here, too, but he often skips classes and just gets the notes. Zane might be silent most of the time, and moody as fuck, but he’s clever and good with his hands.
Fresh meat answers every question correctly and without hesitation, leaving the rest of us looking like we’re fucking dunces. I catch a few of the other guys in class throwing her appreciative glances. Let’s not pretend they’re admiring her for her brains. She has curves for days. I bet those thighs rub a hole in her jeans within a matter of hours of her putting them on, and, when she gets up to answer a question on the board, I see that her ass fills out the back perfectly. Her tits practically spill out of her top, and I’m mesmerized by the soft swell of her belly, the shape of her highlighted beneath the tight cotton of her t-shirt. I know full well that I’m not the only one who’s noticed.
A lot of the women here keep themselves stick thin because they think it’s what we all want in our wives. They diet, and they work out, and they all have the same hard bodies. She’s an oasis of soft sensuality in a world of high-maintenance, frigid bitches. It makes me more intrigued by her.
I picture how soft her body would be beneath my touch, how I’d dig my fingers into her flesh and have her wrap those thighs around my head. She’d smother me in them, but hell, if I die, I die. I bet it would be worth it.
I give my head a shake. What the fuck am I thinking? I don’t need some smart-mouthed girl to kill me off. I’m better than that.
Maybe I should toss her to Saint?
I find myself smiling at the thought. Yeah, he likes a challenge, and this little bitch looks like she’d give him a fight, too.
Never mind that Zane has already noticed her. Screw her and her arrogance. She’s got no idea who she’s messed with.