His eyes are guarded, locked down like Fort freaking Knox. A pang assaults my chest. They used to be so open when he looked at me, so full of emotion. Good stuff, not the broody shit that has taken its place over time. I fooled myself into thinking what I saw wasn’t one-sided, that his feelings matched mine, and our connection...God, it was so powerful. I miss that. I miss it so fucking much, not that I’d ever admit to it. Those days are long gone, and allowing myself to go back to that time is like willingly taking a plunge into quicksand.
I’ll get sucked in, never to be released from its death grip.
I swallow hard, staring into the hollow eyes that used to fill me with hope. Squaring my shoulders, my lips finally part, ready to spew my thoughts on the subject. “You have no right to tell me what to do. If I want to go to a club, I am going to fucking go. If I want to punch a pussy ass bitch for being a cunt to me, I am damn well going to do it.” I hiss. Fuck him for thinking that he can control me!
“You’re never going back to that club. Mark my words.”
“Or what? You’ll teach me a lesson?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Boarding school sure changed the little princess, didn’t it? No more ivory tower for you, huh? Maybe you need to come crashing down to Earth, to get a fucking reality check. This life isn’t fun and games, Char. Not anymore.”
My breath catches. He called me Char, not Puppet.
“What do you mean, ‘not anymore’?” I whisper, the growing lump in my throat cutting off my air supply.
His leg shoves between mine, pressing right against my swelling desire for him. Damn it. He still turns me on to no end, even after everything. I draw in a sharp breath, inhaling his musky scent as my mind trips through the dirtiest thoughts of Xander ravaging me right here against the lockers with the school community looking on and getting off on every salacious second of it.
I force myself out of the lustful daydream quickly when I remember.
He hates me.
And I hate him.
Get a damn grip, Char.
He’s horrible.
A monster.
Just like...
“In your fucking dreams, douchebag,” I snarl, spitting in his face. “And since when did you turn into your brother Jase?” I know that’ll hit him hard. He hates his brother. I can’t see that his feelings would have changed while I was gone. And that snide comment will probably be worse for me in the long run, but screw it. I want to slice into him with the same venom he keeps spewing at me.
His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t address my comment. Interesting…
“You liked it when I pinned you down at your parents’ house. You begged for it.” His coffee-tinged breath flutters against my cheek. “And I can see in those bright blue eyes that you’re not over me.”
He can’t see that.
I am over him.
Ugh!
I’m not!
“All that you’re seeing in my eyes is loathing. I should have never let you touch me with your filthy hands before I left, Xander. You were as big of a prick then as you are now.”
“We’ll see about that,” he whispers in a menacing tone, letting his lips brush against my ear. It sends chills down my back, straightening my spine instantly.
“What is going on here?” Principal McCleary is barreling down the hallway at us. I wonder if he’ll take off with his tail between his legs the way the others did not too long ago.
But Xander surprises me by taking a step back, his hands in the air.
And my body immediately feels vacant and exposed, my internal conflict getting lost in the lust-induced fog generated by Xander.
“Just talking with my good buddy, Char. Catching up, you know?” Xander eyes me through slits, daring me to say otherwise. Not that it matters since the principal backs away when he sees it’s Xander standing in front of me.
What the hell does he have on these people? Must be some good blackmail photos because I can’t figure out why they fall at his damn feet.
“He just stopped by when he saw me re-painting my locker.” I can’t believe the words that tumble out of my mouth, but ratting him out for his girlfriend’s ridiculous display of territorialism seemed a little too childish.
I can handle him on my own.
And I will.
“I suggest you both get to class. Miss Hawthorne, you’re not off to a great start here.” Mr. McCleary folds his arms, glaring at us as we take a few more steps away from each other.
“Yes, sir.” I mutter under my breath, thankful that the principal cockblocked Xander’s lust-inspired threats. But the question on my mind remains...
How in the hell did I turn out to be the bad guy in this scenario?
Again?
Chapter 12
Xander
“You’ve been acting like a real ass lately,” Asher says, taking a long gulp of water from his bottle. “Ever since that girl showed up on the scene the first day of school. Are you gonna tell us what’s going on with her? Why she’s got your dick in such a twist?”
“Lemme guess. You tried to nail her and she kicked your ass to the curb because she found out about your little cock, right?” Chase snickers and shoots a spray of water into his mouth.
I mop my sweaty face with the edge of my tank top and bounce the basketball a few times before looking at my friends.
Friends. Interesting choice of words.
True, I have nobody closer to me than Asher or Chase. But they don’t know me, not the real me, anyway. Not the guy I was before…the guy I was with Char, the one without a black soul and red-tinged future.
Nobody else knew that guy, and nobody has known him since I pretty much locked him down the night before she left for London.
The monster who remains is the one they all see.
And fear.
I quirk a brow as I regard them both. “And you’d know all about little cocks, right?”
Chase rolls his eyes. “We’re just concerned, Xan. I mean, you’re usually a prick, but lately it’s been more so.” He gives my shoulder a nudge. “Is Melina not giving you the ass anymore? Maybe you need to pound her a little, work out all of the crap festering in your head.”
“I hit it plenty, thanks.” I let out a snort. “Getting laid isn’t the problem, but I appreciate the concern.”
They exchange a look before Asher speaks up. “You guys used to be friends, didn’t you?”
My nostrils flare. “How do you know that?”
He shrugs. “After that whole thing with the locker, I overheard a couple of people talking. Said something about her leaving in the middle of sophomore year and that you guys used to be close.”
I rake a hand through my damp hair and pace toward the basketball hoop. “It’s none of your goddamn business, Asher!”
“Look, Xander,” Chase says, grabbing hold of my arm as I stalk past him. I shake off his fingers and root him to his spot on the concrete with a death glare.
He backs away, his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shut us out, man. We’re only trying to help. Shit got crazy last night. It looked like you were going to tear her apart at the club. If her friend hadn’t shown up, what the hell were you gonna do next?”
“And today at the lockers, you had that same look on your face. We know you’re a sadistic fuck, but with a girl? What the hell happened?”
My breathing hitches, my pulse throbbing hard against my neck. I want to lash out, I want to claw their fucking faces off right now for questioning me. They think they know me. Ha! What a joke! They know nothing! They have no clue about the things I’ve done, the blood I’ve spilled, the lives I’ve taken.
They. Know. Nothing.
Including the reasons why I am who I am.
Charlotte has everything to do with that, why I hate getting out of bed in the morning, why I hate looking at myself in the mirror.
It’s because I see that guy and the life I might have had if the girl I loved had actually taken control of her choice
s.
The way I ultimately took control of mine.
Asher and Chase look at me and see the bravado, the take-no-shit attitude, the power I wield. To them, it’s a status symbol. For all of the money and cars and expensive toys they have, they still think I have something over them because I’m Marco Iazetti’s son. And they reap all the rewards, respect, fear, and pussy with none of the work.
Hell, they don’t even know what I do to command all of those perks.
They think it’s just plain nepotism.
It’s not.
I work for it all.
They’d never be able to handle the truth. And I keep the reality buried in part to protect them. It’s almost like an unspoken exchange…they pledge their devotion and loyalty to me so I can have a shred of what I’ve been missing my whole life — control — and I let everyone believe they’re part of my family’s inner circle.
Everyone wins.
But they can never know what really goes on, what my life has become, why I’ll never be like them.
And they especially can’t find out that Char is now tangled in the clutches of my family’s archnemesis. I couldn’t get to the guy who’d been stalking her at the club, but I will. Especially since I snapped a picture of his butt-ass ugly face.
I’ll find him, and then I’ll find Moretti.
I will get my father’s respect. If it is the last thing I fucking do, dammit!
Chase and Asher play the part of the tough guy well enough when we’re strutting the halls at school, but it’s not exactly their game. If they came face to face with the underworld scumbags I deal with, they’d crap their khakis. I can’t get them involved with my business. It’s too risky, for everyone.
I’ve always thrown them little crumbs, and they’ve accepted them. But more and more questions are coming up, and now the crumbs no longer satisfy them.
I let out a deep sigh. I have to give them something now that they’re involved. I brought them to the club the other night. I exposed them to whoever is watching me. The least I can do is give them an explanation about why I flew off the deep end and am still dangling over the edge.
So I cock an eyebrow, bounce the ball a few times, and take a shot. The ball lands cleanly in the hoop with a satisfying swish.
“What happened was she chose another guy over me.” I narrow my eyes at my friends. “A real cocksucker who doesn’t deserve her…a guy who’s been out to get me for a long time and finally got what he wanted.”
“That sucks, Xan.” Asher shakes his head. “So, who’s the guy? Let’s find him and fuck him up!”
I appreciate my friend’s willingness to ‘fuck him up’ when he doesn’t actually know who ‘he’ is. And if Asher found out that ‘he’ is a business associate of his father’s, how eager would he be to take a machete to Chuckie’s Bentley then?
That’s why I just smile.
I don’t need anyone’s help to handle my nemesis.
Charlotte’s back.
That’s all I need.
A familiar ringtone blares out and I jog over to my bag, digging out my phone.
My teeth clench.
Jase.
“Yeah?” I say, gripping the phone tight in my hand. Too many old wounds have been torn open over the past couple of days and fury swirls in my gut, raging through me, ready to be unleashed.
“A delivery just came into Philly’s Garage. Check under the cushion of the car seat. Should be four pounds of blow and four pounds of heroin.”
“Fine,” I hiss. “I’ll take care of it now.”
“Once you confirm it’s there, let me know and I’ll set up the sales.”
I click to end the call. “Guys, I’ve gotta run. Family business.”
They exchange a look and I have to stop the smile from spreading across my face.
Still king.
I slide into the front seat of my car and gun the engine. Philly’s Garage is near Lorenzo’s club in the shittier area outside of Ridgeview. I take the back roads and pull up in front of the place about twenty minutes later.
I sweep a hand through my sweaty hair and take a towel from my bag, giving it a good wipe-down before I get out of the car. I look down at my clothes and wish I had on something a little more menacing than a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and Nike basketball shorts.
I pull open the glove compartment and pull out my box cutter.
I may not look like a threat, but I sure as hell slice like one.
I jog into the garage and slap a couple of the guys on their backs as I pass. “Philly!” I yell. “Where are you?”
Philly appears a few seconds later with what looks to be an Italian hero in his hand. Tomato and lettuce spill out of the sides as he takes a huge bite. His ruddy cheeks look even ruddier right now, and I wonder if the hero was preceded by some bourbon.
Like maybe a whole bottle judging by the way he staggers over to me.
“Xander!” he exclaims, giving me a little punch on the shoulder with his free hand. “How you been? Jase call in sick today?” he says with a snicker, a piece of capicola hanging out of the side of his mouth.
“Nah, he’s getting a massage,” I say, deadpan.
Philly rolls his eyes. “What a pussy!”
I snicker. “You know it.” And he does, too. That’s one of the reasons why I love Philly. He knows exactly how my family operates. My dad is lucky to have him. “So Jase tells me we got some merchandise that needs to be checked out.”
He waves me into the back where a beaten-up Honda Accord sits in the middle of the floor. “They have a baby,” he says with a pointed look toward the backseat. “And it’s a fucking mess back there. Just look at the cushion on that car seat. I don’t even wanna touch it.”
I open the back door and peer at the car seat, feeling around the whole thing for any bumps or bulges. I furrow my brow, checking again.
“Hey, Philly,” I call, waving him over. “I think we’ve got a problem.”
He takes another bite of his sandwich and pokes his head next to mine. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing there,” I say, struggling to keep my voice calm. “It was supposed to be under the seat cushion, but there ain’t shit under there.”
“That can’t be right.” A look of fear shadows Philly’s face. “Xander, you know I’d never fuck with you or your family. I felt it myself. If I said it was here, then it’s got to be here.”
I take a deep breath through my nose. There’s no way I’m going back to Jase to let him know we’ve been taken for a hundred grand. But something is very wrong, and I don’t like that Philly is in the middle of it.
I back out of the car and walk around to check the rest of it. I run my fingers over every inch of the car, I check every available crevice, surface, and underside, including the hood and trunk.
But the search comes up empty.
Someone fucked us.
And I’m not leaving until I figure out who.
“I wanna see the security feeds,” I say to Philly. He nods his head quickly, backing away toward the back office. “Sure, let’s go and look.”
I follow Philly into the back, eyeing each guy whom I pass. I recognize them all.
The question is…do they recognize me?
Because if they do, they know what’s coming next.
Philly dumps the rest of his hero in the trash, wiping his greasy fingers on his jeans before stabbing a few keys onto the keyboard on his desk. He brings up the security app and brings up the feed for today. I notice his hand trembles slightly as it slides the mouse left and right to pull up the feeds.
Motherfucker.
I place my hand over Philly’s. “Lemme do it.” I find the feed for the space in the garage where the Accord is parked. I watch as it’s driven in, I see the driver step out of the car, and I grit my teeth.
Philly’s nephew, Manny.
A chill slides down my spine when I toss a quick glance over my shoulder. Through the office window, I can see his beady black e
yes narrow when they meet mine. How the fuck does he have the balls?
Did he really think he was gonna get away with it?
My spine tenses as I watch Manny stuff packets into his own pockets on the feed. You skim a few, okay. Everyone has sticky fingers at some point. I’ll fuck you up for stealing from me, yeah, but to take it all and put your uncle between a rock and a knife blade?
That’s a cocksucker right there.
I slam open the office door. “Manny!” I bellow.
He looks up from the car he’s working on, tossing his tools aside. “Yeah?”
“Get in here.”
Christ, I’m gonna destroy that asshole!
It’s what I do.
It’s who I am.
And nothing I want.
But my choices are limited unless I want to be in Manny’s position.
Palming the box cutter in my pocket, I know it’s not a good one to be in.
He walks toward me, jeans around his ass crack, smug look on his face. He walks as though the entire world should be waiting on him.
I clench my fists, slamming one against a wall. “I don’t have all goddamn day!”
Still, he takes his sweet ass time…until he reaches the middle of the garage. With a quick shrug, he darts left and runs right out the fucking door.
I don’t blink, I just run.
Okay, maybe the change of clothes wouldn’t have come in as handy as my sneakers, so I guess that’s the silver lining of the day.
A nagging thought eats away at me.
Did Jase know? Did he send me in here because he knew what I’d be up against?
A smirk lifts my lips.
If he knew what I was walking into, then he’d also know I’d be the only one walking out with all body parts still attached.
I fly down a nearby alley in the direction of Manny’s feet thumping along the cracked pavement. I stomp through puddles and jump over boxes he hurls at me, barely breaking a sweat.
“It’s a dead end, Manny,” I call out to him as he runs, checking over his shoulder every few seconds. I come closer and closer and the tail of his shirt is almost within my grasp. All I need to do is just push a little—
Crash!
Puppet: Ridgeview Prep Book 1 Page 10