Puppet: Ridgeview Prep Book 1

by Quinn, Londyn

  My stomach grumbles as I watch from my balcony my father leaving the house.

  Grabbing my phone, I dial Ellie.

  “Hey,” she answers. Her tone is usually upbeat but from that one word, I can hear that something’s up.

  “Wanna grab a late dinner?” I hopefully ask.

  “Can’t. My father found out I snuck out the other night and has me on house arrest.”

  “Crap. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. Have a drink for me. I have to go. I am not supposed to be using the phone.”

  “See you at school tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. See you there.”

  Fuck it. I’ll go by myself.

  My mouth waters from the sheer thought of sangria and roasted chipotle salsa from my favorite Tex-Mex restaurant, Green Cactus.

  Without missing a beat, I order an Uber.

  Now to get past the guards.

  I make sure to put in the notes in the app for the car to wait outside of the gate on the north side. The hedges block the guard from being able to see well. Man, I am way too good at being able to ditch my bodyguards for being away for so long. Who knew that sneaking out was like riding a bike?

  I change into a killer deep red dress that I have been dying to wear, grab my clutch, and sneak down the trellis like it is nothing.

  The driver parked in the perfect spot.

  At least something is going my way today.

  As I fasten my seatbelt, the entire evening starts playing over in my head. Kissing Xander — why did it have to be so perfect? And why did it have to be ruined by his dickhead friends? I have no idea what is actually happening in my life. The guy whom I secretly love is playing games and has turned into my mortal enemy. And for a split second I let my guard down. He saw the opening and took his chance. And boy did he get it.

  How could I have been so fucking stupid?

  How could I let Xander play me like that?

  I know better.

  At least, I thought I did.

  My mind trips over the drive to my house. How Xander choked on his words. It almost sounded like the old him. The him who cared about me. Could it have been genuine concern? Or did I make it all up in my head?

  “Miss, we’re here,” the driver calls back to me.

  I didn’t even notice that we were parked at the curb.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, making sure I have my phone and purse before exiting the back of the sedan.

  The street is quiet. Only a few people are walking on the other side of the street. Closing time is coming fast, but I have just enough time for one fruity drink and an appetizer. That’s all I need. Just enough to help cleanse me of this wretched day.

  Without warning, a hand grips the back of my arm, pulling me around the corner of the restaurant to a dark alley.

  My brain tries to catch up as my heartbeat thuds against my temple.

  “What in the hell!” I yell out as I am spun around and thrown against the brick wall.

  That scar. It mocks me as I gasp for air. The wind completely knocked out of me.

  “Hello, Charlotte.” The stalker holds me by the shoulders. My skin ignites from his touch. My body trembles. My throat dries out.

  I struggle against him as he inches closer. “Help! Someone help!”

  With my phone still clutched in my hand, I try tapping the screen frantically.

  “Not so fast, little one. I’m not done with you yet,” he rumbles so close to my ear that I can feel the vibrations. He smacks the cell out of my hand, quickly pressing his entire, broad body against mine.

  I scream out as my phone crashes onto the pavement, “Siri, call Xander Iazetti.”

  I have no idea if he still has my number blocked, but I didn’t have anyone else to call. My father wouldn’t answer. My mother was probably getting something wrapped or peeled without her phone in ear shot. I can’t let my father’s staff know that I am not at home. Xander is my only hope for salvation.

  I hold my breath as the phone lights up and starts to dial. I can’t take my eyes off of it. I can’t look at my attacker. His eyes that burn through me. His scar that will be forever engraved in my brain. His menacing frame.

  Why did I get myself into this shit?

  Why couldn’t I have just listened for once in my damn life?

  “He can’t save you, little girl,” the stranger whispers in my ear, pressing me harder into the wall. His fingertips dig into my hips.

  “Help!” I shout, but no one is around to hear me.

  Hot breath lands on my prickling cheek. “Nobody is coming for you, Charlotte. There is no one to rescue you. Not this time.”

  I scream out, praying the Xander is listening on the other end of my phone. I yell his name, the place, anything I can think of for Xander to be able to get his ass here and save mine.

  “Daddy Hawthorne needs to keep a better eye on his little canary. Letting you out of your cage is very dangerous,” he snarls, breathing in deeply, his nose pressed against my hair. “So fresh. So pure. You’re going to make a nice addition to my collection.”

  I try to wiggle. Try to stomp my feet. Move in any way at all. But this guy is a giant compared to me. And he has me completely trapped. It gets hard to breathe as I gag on his cologne and the potential looming threat.

  “Get the fuck off me, you goddamned scumbag!” I bellow, craning my neck to get my face as far away from his as possible.

  “You’re not safe. You’ll never be safe again, Charlotte Hawthorne. Don’t ever forget that.” His whisper is gravelly as it whisks into my ear. My back tenses as I try to straighten up. I cannot show this guy one more ounce of fear. That would make this all too easy for him.

  “Leave me alone! Get off of me!”

  He snorts. “No.”

  I finally look at him, the bright scar blaring at me. Without a second thought, I do the only thing I can, I bite down as hard as I can on his stubble-covered cheek. The saltiness from his gross sweat makes me want to hurl, but there is no way that I am letting go. I want to add to the disfigurement of the asshole if it is the last thing I do. And it might be. For all I know, he is going to kill me right here, in a back alley next to a smelly dumpster.

  Or worse.

  He’s going to take me with him, prolonging the inevitable.

  Chapter 18

  Xander

  The plan is simple.

  Find Lorenzo.

  Give him an incentive to divulge Rossi’s location.

  Kill him if he resists.

  That last part was Jase’s idea.

  Fucking idiot. Lorenzo is our only link to Moretti right now. We kill him and we screw ourselves hard.

  My phone vibrates on the table next to me as I toy with the forkful of spaghetti, twirling it over and over again in the center of my plate. Mom is in the kitchen and Jase was too pissed off to make conversation after shoveling in his dinner. I glance at the screen, wondering if it’s Phoenix with the details for tonight.

  It’s not.

  Charlotte’s name flashes, and I grab the phone, sitting straight up in my chair.

  I stab the Accept button and put it to my ear. “Hello?”

  But she doesn’t respond. At least, not in the way I expect.

  I stand up from the chair, straining my ears. There’s a lot of noise — crashing and screaming. I can’t make out full words.

  “Char!” I shout, clutching the phone tight. “Can you hear me?”

  “Xander!”

  Fuck. I hear that.

  Then she yells something else. I clutch my hair. What the hell was that? “Say it again, Char!” I yell.

  Mom runs into the dining room, a concerned look on her face. “Xander, what on Earth—?”

  “Scar!”

  Sonofabitch. Rossi.

  He’s got her. Somewhere.

  My pulse throbs thickly against my throat, so hard I almost choke on the rage bubbling in my chest.

  Did he break into her house? How the hell would that even b
e possible with the fucking surveillance on her estate?

  I hold up a hand to stop my mother from finishing her question since I have no fucking clue what on Earth and give my head a wild shake. Her eyes widen as she watches my expression morph into one of panic. I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on her voice. Green Cactus. The Mexican place over on Main Street. We’d spent many afternoons there stuffing our faces with build your own tacos and their homemade guacamole.

  What the fuck is she doing out of the goddamn manor?

  I kick the dining room chair to the side in my haste to get to the front door. I look at my mother and Jase who’s now entered the kitchen, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “I’m coming, Char!” I shout it as loud as I can…right before the line goes dead.

  On her side.

  “Xander, what the hell is happening?” Jase yells, running after me.

  I slide my feet into my sneakers and grab my keys. “Tell Phoenix there’s been a change of plans. Char is in trouble, and I think it’s our guy Rossi. I’m going after him.” My voice drops. “And make up some bullshit to tell Ma so she doesn’t freak out.” I pull open the front door, ready to bolt.

  “You can’t do this by yourself,” Jase growls, grabbing my arm and yanking me back. I level him with a glare and pull away.

  “I’m going. You wanna stop me? Shoot me.” I run into the night air, clicking the unlock button on my car door.

  I gun the engine and peel out of the driveway, the tires squealing along the pavement. If I drive like a normal person, I can make it to Green Cactus in fifteen minutes.

  But I’m not normal. Not by a fucking long shot.

  I take turns at light speed, running stop signs, and flying through yellow lights to make it there in eight. A quick glance at the dashboard clock confirms that it’s almost closing time. I come to a screeching halt against the curb and jump out of my car. My eyes dart in all directions, but there are no other cars in sight. It’s a weeknight and pretty slow since everyone is back in school.

  I slam my fists on the top of my car and grab my phone to dial her number as I run toward the restaurant.

  Why? I don’t know.

  Maybe I’m just hoping—

  In the distance, I hear it.

  Her ringtone. Our ringtone.

  The Avengers theme song, set to play when my number calls.

  Still.

  Even after all this time.

  “Char?” I call out, jogging in the direction of the tune. It gets louder as I make my way deeper into a dark alley next to the restaurant. I dial again when her voicemail picks up and the song amplifies in volume.

  I’m getting closer to the phone.

  But she doesn’t answer.

  Questions pop inside my brain like bullets.

  Did he take her somewhere? What the hell does he want? Is Moretti behind this?

  Christ, the list of questions is damn endless.

  And I have zero answers to any of them.

  I creep farther down the dank and damp space lined with large beaten-up dumpsters, the stench of old Mexican food assaulting my nostrils. I choke back a gag as I push one out of my path, my heart skidding to a hard stop when I see a pair of feet sticking out from behind another dumpster.

  No.

  Please fucking no!

  I take a deep breath before darting toward the bare feet. One sandal sits on its side a few feet away, the other gone. I drop to my knees, right into a puddle, and reach out a shaky hand to brush the matted blonde hair away from the girl’s hidden face.

  But it’s not just any girl.

  It’s my girl.

  My shoulders quake as my head falls to her chest. Short, sharp gasps escape my lips as I listen for a heartbeat. A strangled cry catches in the back of my throat as I run my fingers over her swollen cheek, her lip split as if she’d been hit with something hard.

  Like a fist.

  My gut clenches, tears pooling in my eyes.

  He did this.

  Moretti.

  Maybe it wasn’t done by his hand directly, but the order came from him.

  To hurt the girl I love.

  The fury rising in my chest blurs all sensibilities and mutes the thoughts crashing between my ears.

  A tiny moan slips from her mouth and I lean closer to make sure I actually do hear it, that it’s not really my imagination fabricating the sound because I’m desperate for Charlotte to be okay.

  I’d give anything for her to be safe, to be anywhere but here.

  Ironic that it was because of me she ended up in this alley in the first place.

  “Char?” I whisper, dipping my head lower. I gently stroke the side of her face as her eyelids flutter open. She blinks a few times.

  “Xander?” she whispers, wincing as she lifts her head. I catch it before it slams back onto the concrete.

  “I’m gonna help you up, okay?”

  “Yeah,” she mumbles weakly. “Nobody came. I screamed and nobody…c-came.” Her soft whimpers make my stomach roil. I wanna hurt the bastard who did this to her. No, fuck that. I wanna kick his ass and then empty a clip into his chest.

  After I shoot off his goddamn balls.

  “Don’t cry, babe,” I say, lifting her as carefully as I can off the uneven pavement. “I’m going to take care of this. I swear. You just need to talk to me. Tell me exactly—”

  “It was him, Xander,” she whispers. “The guy with the scar. But why? What does he want with me?” Her shoulders quake as I lift her into my arms and carry her over to my car, the only one on the desolate street.

  I pull open the backdoor so she can lie down in the backseat, but she refuses.

  “No, please. I want to sit with you.” Her face recoils in pain as I shift her into the passenger seat. She leans back against the leather head rest and lets out a labored breath, clutching the side of her head.

  The side that looks like it was smashed in by a fist.

  Rage floods my insides as an image of Rossi beating Charlotte wallpapers my mind. That rat bastard will pay with every last breath in his fucking body!

  “Tell me what happened,” I say, trying to control my voice. I don’t want to scare her, but the gun under my seat is burning a hole in the floor. I have to fight every last urge to comb the surrounding towns to find Rossi and blow off his deformed head.

  She’s quiet for a minute, her normally bright blue eyes so sad and dejected. The anger from earlier tonight has been replaced with pure defeat, which pains me to no end and I know that the look stems from more than just the attack.

  “After you dropped me off, I had a fight with my dad,” she says in a shaky voice. “It was bad. Really bad. About Mom and Andrew…and,” she sniffles. “Well, everything.”

  Okay, the first person I want to shoot ain’t Rossi anymore.

  “He grounded me. Told me he had plans tonight and was leaving.” Tears spill over, cascading down her bruised cheeks. “I couldn’t…” She chokes on a sob. “I couldn’t stay there alone.”

  “But what about Rolland?” I ask. “You weren’t alone. And you had the security guys.”

  “I didn’t want any of them,” she says, raising her eyes to mine. “I wanted you, even after you made it painfully clear that you didn’t feel the same way.”

  “Charlotte—”

  “I needed to get away,” she says, interrupting me. “And so I ordered an Uber. Then, I walked toward the front door of the restaurant and he grabbed me.” Her voice cracks. “H-he hit me and I bit him.”

  “You bit him?”

  “Yeah, right on his cheek. Hard. I tasted blood. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t all mine.”

  Her eyes flutter closed and she lets out a sigh, then cringes in pain. “Then he punched me in the jaw and knocked me out. I thought he was going to kill me, Xander. That’s why I called you. It’s always you,” she mutters.

  “We should have you looked at,” I say, pulling away from the curb. “I need to take you to the hospital.”

  “No!” She ye
lps. “No way. They’ll call my parents. I’m fine. He didn’t beat me to a pulp. He smacked me around a little. I’ll survive. I don’t want to deal with my parents tonight. Especially because…”

  “What?” I demand, leaning over her. “Did something else happen?”

  She nods. “Yeah. He said he wasn’t there to kill me. He was there to send a message.”

  “To who?” I croak, barely able to squeeze out a breath at this point.

  Charlotte takes a deep breath before looking at me.

  “He wouldn’t say. He just laughed and said this is only the beginning…a hint of what’s to come.”

  * * *

  My head spins like a top as I drive back to Hawthorne Manor. I’m still wondering how the hell we’re going to avoid any kind of fallout once we get to the guard booth outside the wrought-iron gates of the estate.

  Like nobody is gonna ask who beat the shit out of Charlotte?

  The wheels inside my brain spin so fast, I can swear I smell smoke. Shit! I’ve been so focused on tormenting Charlotte that I put her right in the line of fire.

  I need to get to Phoenix.

  I have to figure out how to stop what the hell is to come.

  How did I get so careless? Since school started, I’ve made my association to Charlotte crystal fucking clear to anyone alive and breathing, and I really have to wonder how Moretti knew to target her?

  Information comes damn cheap if you know the right people.

  And Christ only knows, the Iazettis have plenty of enemies who lurk and wait for an opportunity to strike.

  I pull up to the gate and turn to look at Char. I pull off my baseball cap and drop it into her lap. She puts it on and pulls the bill down low. Between the hat and the dark shadows, we might actually get away without me getting pulled from my car and pelted with fists, courtesy of her ex-Navy SEAL bodyguards.

  The guard from before nods after giving me a long look. I guess he remembers me from before. Thank fuck.

  I drive through and let out an unsteady breath.

  “Did you think they’d suspect you attacked me?” she asks with a snicker.

  “I kind of feel like they’re the act first, ask questions later kind of guys, yeah?” I pull slowly up to the cobblestone circular driveway, assaulted by déjà vu since I was in this very spot a short time earlier.