Page 11 of Brutal King

“Enjoying your meals, ladies?”

We stopped chewing and froze before glancing up to where Axel stood at Layla’s shoulder, a conniving smirk on his face.

“Yes,” we both muttered, uncertain where this was going.

“Good. Good. We do pride ourselves on teaching only the best.”

We swallowed and forced tentative smiles. Was this Axel’s way of apologizing for the awful greeting that morning?

“Carbonara and marinara; interesting choices.” He glanced at Layla. “Have you ever heard of marinara sauce before today?”

“As a matter of fact...” Layla began.

“I would have thought you’d be more the bolognaise type.” He turned to pick up a plate of spaghetti from the next table. “Try this.” He spun back so fast that the spaghetti flew off the plate and straight into Layla’s face.

“Ah!” she let out as she jumped to her feet and quickly wiped the hot bolognaise off with her fingertips. “You bastard.”

“Oh, did I do that. I do apologize,” Axel said with the glint in his eyes.

Just as I was about to stand up to defend my new friend, a sudden warmth covered my head and trickled down over my ears and down my neck. I looked back to see Kobe standing there with the same devilish grin as his twin.

I couldn’t believe it. The boy I’d known... so sweet, so kind-hearted, so playful... and now. I barely recognized him with this new sneer of his.

“Kobe?” I muttered; certain I was mistaken.

It couldn’t be. But there he stood, just as good-looking and sexy as his brother, both with those smoldering eyes, both with those full lips, both with that thick black hair.

And both so filled with such inexplicable hatred for us.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Axel said, feigning remorse. “Country Barbie got fresh-made Italian pasta in her bleached blond hair. I bet you’re more accustomed to having hay in your hair, aren’t you? Sorry, but we don’t have that much hay out here... unless you go to the stable where we keep our thoroughbreds.”

Layla calmly and carefully pulled the pasta out of her hair. Despite her calm demeaner, I could almost smell her seething rage, or was it my own seething rage that burned my nostrils?

“This is a school of respect,” Axel said. “This isn’t some come as you are, arrive whenever you feel like it, roll out of bed and shuffle your way to registration sort of school.”

“I...” Layla began.

“Lateness,” Axel cut in, “is not tolerated here. Tardiness is such a show of disrespect. Disrespect for this institution, disrespect for the staff and disrespect for the students who show up on time.”

“Yeah,” Kobe chimed in. “That’s for you daring to lay your hands on Axel’s face. As the Kings of this school, we deserve respect, especially from a hick from some one-horse town like you.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was Kobe? What happened to the sweet almost bashful boy I knew at summer camp so long ago?

Layla’s lips curled in a manner I would have never expected. For a moment I feared she would pounce on Axel.

“Well, now this certainly shows what you boys are made of, doesn’t it,” Layla said with firm conviction. “If it’s putting down the people around you that makes you feel big and powerful, well go on. I can take it. I may be from the country, but I grew up straight and strong. A little pasta in my hair isn’t going to break me. But I guess for silver spooners like yourselves, the only way to feel strong is to push your weight around... use your daddy’s name to get what you want. How pathetic.”

The room suddenly became dead silent.

Oh, my God. Layla... you didn’t just say that. You can’t talk to them like that. Every word you said is true, but you can’t say that.

Axel puffed out his chest, his cheeks only slightly red from the insult. “You’re precisely the type of girl who should stay barefoot and pregnant. I bet you like that, don’t you. Walking around barefoot, a stick of straw between your teeth. You do have your own teeth, don’t you?” He walked up close to her, his eyes gazing at her lips.

With her hands firmly on her hips, Layla faced him, undaunted. “Feel like a man now, little boy?”

“Go home, country mouse. You’re out of your league here... way out.”

Layla pulled her hand back and prepared to lug him one, but he was ready for it this time. He caught her hand in his, twisting ever so slightly.

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