Puppet: Ridgeview Prep Book 1

by Quinn, Londyn

  Chapter 6

  Xander

  I pull on my school uniform, running a hand through my dark hair. It flops back over my eyes, looking hungover. It’s pretty ironic since I didn’t actually drink anything last night. And I wish I had drank enough to feel like shit. The late nights and early mornings are my undoing. I really need to figure out how to get more rest. But that’s an issue for another time.

  My bare feet sink into the plush carpet on the stairs as I stagger toward the kitchen.

  More specifically, the Keurig coffee machine.

  I drop a pod into the holder and slam the top down to start the brewing process.

  I lean on my elbows, clutching my head in my hands as the coffee drizzles into the mug. The scent makes my stomach roil. You’d think after all of this time, I’d find a different flavor to drink, one that wouldn’t torment me as much.

  But that damn cinnamon roll coffee had always been Charlotte’s favorite, and every day since she left, I fuel my body with it as a reminder to never lose myself in another person again.

  She broke me, permanently, and I’ve never been able to put the pieces back together.

  It’s better this way. The jagged edges, sharp corners, and deadly shards of who I’ve become make me a valuable asset to the family. I no longer feel pain.

  I only inflict it.

  “What the hell were you doing last night?”

  I grit my teeth before letting out a deep sigh.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” my father growls from behind me.

  I grab my steaming mug and swivel around, leaning against the cabinets.

  “Why the fuck were you at that club last night, Xander?”

  “If you knew I was at the club, then you know what I was doing,” I grunt, taking a sip of the scalding liquid. It burns a fiery path down my throat, but a little pain is good for the blackened soul.

  At least, that’s what I tell people just before I deliver my own personal brand of torture on them.

  Not that they ever agree.

  “Jase and I told you to stay away from there,” he says, his voice sharp. “You purposely defied us!”

  Jase. My asshole brother sold me out. He must have followed me, knowing I’d never listen to him. And he didn’t stop me himself because then he couldn’t go running to my father to tell him I’d ignored his warnings. Scumbag is always looking to tear me down to pump up his self-inflated ego. He thinks it’ll keep him in Dad’s good graces, that he’ll finally get the respect he’d give his left nut for.

  But that won’t ever happen. He’s too much of a liability, something he’s proven again and again to my father and his crew. He’s had more brushes with death than I can count, all because he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. I’m actually surprised he’s lived to see twenty-five.

  I think my father is, too.

  I narrow my eyes and take a few steps toward him. I have at least three inches on my dad, and I use them all to hold my ground. “I needed to talk to Lorenzo. He knows people and can get information for us.”

  “And how did it go? Did he tell you what you wanted to know?” Dad’s eyes blaze at me, but I stand my ground. I don’t care what he thinks.

  “Look, I know you’re pissed at me, but think about it. Lorenzo can help us. He just needs some incentive. Now it’s on his radar.”

  “You have nothing to give him that Moretti can’t double or triple!” My father slams his hands on the granite countertop. “How can you be sure that Lorenzo isn’t already talking to someone in Moretti’s crew? Haven’t you learned what happens when you trust too much, Xander? Haven’t you seen it firsthand?”

  My jaw tightens. “You know, I think I’ve done a damn good job of delivering for you over the past few years, Dad. When you took over the family after Massimo was killed, I supported you. I did everything you asked.” I dip my head lower. “I played the game the way you wanted and made us a lot of money.”

  “That’s exactly why I told you to stay away from that club,” he hisses. “Because you’ve stopped playing the game according to the rules. You started making your own, and that’s dangerous, and by going into that club and confiding in Lorenzo, you’ve put us all at risk.”

  “I’m the only one with the balls to do what you need to do to stay on top, Dad. You’re losing the game, and you know it. My rules will help us win.” I square my shoulders. “Or are you going to count on Jase to help you keep shit together? Because he hasn’t screwed things up enough since you took over, right?”

  “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that again, Xander. I give the orders. I set the rules. Remember your place, or I will eliminate it. Do you understand me?”

  He doesn’t wait for my response. He just levels me with a final glare and stalks out of the kitchen.

  I grip the handle of my mug tight, letting the anger consume me.

  Not that it ever really lets up.

  I work to feed that rage. It keeps me focused.

  And lethal.

  At eighteen, I’ve seen my fair share of spilled blood.

  I’ve drawn it myself more times than I care to count.

  All in the name of family obligation.

  I’ve done my part.

  Traded in my innocence.

  Embraced the life.

  And now he wants me to take a backseat? When we’re so close?

  I gave up so much to take my place in this damn family, one that doesn’t reward you for a job well done, but will throw your ass to the wolves if you stray the slightest bit.

  The bastards who gunned down Massimo, the last boss, got to him because he was weak. Sloppy. A two-faced sniveling rat fuck. Because of him, we nearly lost everything, and it’s taken years to rebuild.

  How the hell am I supposed to think about anything other than taking them down? About senior year and prom and college applications?

  Senior year is just a way for me to pass the time before I can get the hell out of this town and go to Chicago where my brother Phoenix heads up our midwestern business dealings. Not that I’ve told anyone about my plans. But there’s no way I’m going to stick around Ridgeview as Jase’s peon. I’m tired of living in his shadow, especially since I’m the reason why he’s still alive in the first place, ungrateful prick that he is.

  College isn’t even a blip on the radar for me. I’ve gotten plenty of education over the past few years and none of it can be taught from books or teachers. I learn something new every day, and I don’t need to pay anyone hundreds of thousands of dollars for those life lessons.

  And prom? Like I need an excuse to get dressed up and fuck some girl who’s drunk off her ass. I don’t need the tux to do that. And I sure as hell don’t have to wait until the end of the year to get off. If I so much as look at a girl, I can have her pussy in my mouth within seconds. Case in point, the panties stuffed into the pocket of my jeans.

  If I want something, I take it.

  That’s why I went into that club.

  That’s why I’m going to Chicago.

  Maybe if I’d taken what I wanted a year and a half ago, things would be different for me today.

  A long time ago, I was on the path to becoming one of those over-privileged and entitled Ridgeview Prep dickheads I’ve grown to detest.

  I thought I had it all.

  The best of both worlds.

  I was fucking delusional.

  I may not have chosen this life, but it sure as hell chose me.

  I made my bed and a lot of enemies in the process.

  But I haven’t looked back once.

  I never will.

  * * *

  I slide into the driver’s seat and turn the key of my Pontiac GTO Judge. The engine roars, almost loud enough to rival my soul. I catch a glimpse at the clock on the dashboard.

  Noon.

  My stomach grumbles in acknowledgement.

  Looks like I’m right on time for my first day.

  It’s not long before Ridgeview Prep comes
into view.

  My castle.

  The only place where I rule from a throne, not grouse from the cheap seats where I sit pretty much everywhere outside of here. I swing my car into a spot right by the front entrance clearly marked ‘Reserved,’ my tires squealing on the pavement.

  Reserved for His fucking Majesty, of course.

  I push open the door and step out slowly, taking in the enormous architectural structure. Old money created this ostentatious campus, and new money commands it.

  New money meaning me and my friends.

  Everyone knows who we are and what we control both inside of these walls.

  Outside is another story, but perception becomes reality.

  The spoiled-rich kids here don’t care that I get shit on daily by my father and Jase. It’s respect by association. They sense power, and they cower to it.

  “Xander! You’re here! Just in time for lunch, like usual.” Melina Lasca squeals, strutting toward me in ridiculously high heels and a skirt short enough to give all of the male teachers here an insta-hard-on and all of the female ones an insta-coronary.

  I snicker to myself. Melina is the exception. She doesn’t cower to it. She just spreads her legs wide for it, and I have no issue with that. At all.

  I slam my door shut and lounge against my car as she closes the distance between us, puffing out her chest so I can see right down the front of her barely buttoned shirt.

  She slides herself against me, making sure she presses herself against my cock for good measure. Fuck me. Is she even wearing panties?

  Yeah, Melina is one of those girls with daddy issues.

  And I’m the happy and sexually satisfied recipient of the pent-up rage she’s had for her father since he took off on her and her family a few years ago.

  Angry sex is the best sex, and between the two of us, there’s plenty of fury to be unleashed on the nightly.

  Melina trails a hand down the front of my shirt, pausing at my belt buckle. “I wish we didn’t have to be here right now,” she murmurs. “I can think of a hundred other things we could be doing right now, and all of them include this fat cock.” She palms my dick and licks her red painted lips as it thickens against my dress pants.

  I grab a fistful of her hair and dip her head back, crushing my lips against hers. I drag her lower lip through my teeth right before pulling away from that kiss. It’s hot as hell but empty.

  It’s always empty, something that I’ve just learned to accept.

  It’ll never be any other way, not with Melina.

  Not with anyone.

  A flash of blonde in my periphery has me doing a double-take. I furrow my brow, blinking fast as the tall figure disappears into the school. I narrow my eyes, staring past Melina. She’s mumbling something about blowing me in the gym, but all sound around me instantly mutes.

  I release her hair and push her away as I walk into the school.

  “Xan?” Melina calls out, pawing at my arm. “Where are you going? You can’t just walk away from me!”

  I shake off her bony fingers, my sights set on what can only be an apparition because there’s no way it can be…her. My spine stiffens as Melina’s voice fades to white noise. I don’t even turn around to silence her with a look, to remind her of her place and who can crush her like a fucking cockroach if she doesn’t acknowledge it. I never let anyone question who has the control in any situation within the wrought-iron gates of Ridgeview Prep.

  But at this moment, I feel that control slip away, seeping out of me like my soul did a little over a year ago.

  My heart spasms in my chest as I storm into the school, eyes wild and darting in every single direction until they spy another flash of blonde down the hall outside of the cafeteria. A garbled yell catches in the back of my throat, and I press my lips together before it shatters the air.

  “Hey, man. Where the fuck have you been today? Skipping the first couple classes already?” My two closest friends, brothers Chase and Asher Valetta, saunter toward me like they own the place.

  They fucking don’t.

  I hold up a hand to silence them as I pass them by without a word. They exchange a look, but neither asks the question on their lips. I know they’re smart enough to follow me inside the building. They’d never be seen without their leader.

  Fucking serfs. Just like I am to Jase.

  My chest tightens, and I clench and unclench my fists as the thought percolates. This is the only place where I matter, where I have any influence at all, where anybody gives a shit about what I think, do, and say.

  Something caught my attention last night, and that same something is now only mere feet away from me in my kingdom.

  That something represents an end to that semi-innocent life I used to lead, the one that was normal, happy, and hopeful.

  The one I wasn’t in…not the way I am now.

  Immersed.

  Drowning.

  Sputtering blood on the daily.

  I was enjoying life on the outskirts, dipping my toes in but able to cut and run at any time. Nobody had expectations, and that was just fine with me. It gave me the best of both worlds.

  Until one of those worlds was yanked out of my grasp.

  I’ve been flailing ever since with zero grounding, not that I’d ever let a single person know it.

  And my downward spiral just keeps drilling me deeper and deeper into the shit I wanted to avoid.

  The image of the tall blonde beauty from the club is seared into my memory, the latent wrath that bubbled to the surface when she stalked away from me after hate-fucking me with her eyes about to be unleashed.

  I always know what to expect when I walk through these halls. I’m never surprised.

  Never challenged.

  And I’m sure as shit never disregarded the way I was last night.

  Cast aside just like I was so long ago, set free only to become prisoner to an existence that has me fully shackled with no hope for release.

  Out in a box.

  That’s the only escape plan.

  Truth be told, sometimes it sounds tempting.

  I swallow hard past the growing lump in my throat, stalking past students who move to either side of the hallway, instinctively knowing that they’d be smart to get out of my fucking way. Silence falls around me. Nobody speaks. Nobody moves.

  They all just watch.

  My presence alone keeps the kids in line. They know where I come from, things I’ve done, who I work for…and what happens if some asshole sets me off.

  Nobody fucks with me because they know punishment will be swift and painful.

  I like knowing they fear me.

  At least, now I do. I never cared before, but now, things are different.

  I’ve earned my place here. My father didn’t put me at the top of the food chain.

  She did.

  And while I guess I should be thankful for that much, my heart and soul were stolen in the process.

  I don’t think I can ever be made whole again.

  My shoes pound on the polished floor, every step closer to my destination making my temples throb harder.

  Because deep in my gut, I know what waits for me beyond those heavy wooden doors.

  The lives that were taken from me.

  Mine and hers.

  My palm grips the door handle, my bicep twitching as I swing it open with all the strength I can muster. It lands against the wall next to it with a crashing thud, eliciting gasps from the students tracking my every move.

  They don’t know what’s coming next.

  They can’t even fucking fathom what happens now.

  I don’t turn my head toward the idiot teacher who dares address me like the pompous prick he is. But he’ll pay for it later. He’s new and one of the very few who don’t realize his new reality.

  Red stains my periphery, fogging my vision. Blood rushes between my ears, my insides flooded with a deep-seated fury that courses through my veins. I shove my way through the crowds of students loo
king for seating in the crowded cafeteria until I’m directly in front of her.

  The girl from the club.

  The girl who destroyed me because she couldn’t stand up to her dickwad father to fight for herself…to fight for us.

  The girl who has now walked away from me not once, but twice.

  She’ll learn to never fucking do that again.

  “You,” I growl through clenched teeth, my hands curled into tight fists at my sides. “Looks like Daddy’s little puppet is back in town.”

  Chapter 7

  Charlotte

  I know that voice…

  I spin around, the low rumbling sound from behind me like an assault on my senses. A jolt zips through me, electrifying my insides, and I forget about the stack of books in my arms when his eyes meet mine—the dark, searing gaze from the night before that paralyzed my shredded heart. They are storm clouds of anger and disgust only inches away.

  His tight uniform button-down clings to his pronounced muscles as he pulls in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. Dread and desire form a conflicting mix that makes my stomach churn. My fingers twitch, the overwhelming desire to slap his smug face coaxing me to show him just how devilishly bad I can be. I take in a deep drag of his intoxicating scent, memories of his signature pomade and cologne festering in my tormented mind. How comforting to know that not everything has changed. But dammit, that knowledge also enrages me.

  Fuck him for not saying anything the night before. He had to have known it was me! How didn’t I know it was him? Did I just not want to believe it? Did we both want to just live in denial for one more night?

  Xander’s head cocks to the side, the slightest hint of a sneer dancing across his lips. God, they look delicious, and now even more so because I’ve actually tasted them and know that to be the case. “Welcome back, Puppet,” he growls before slamming his fist down onto my stack of books, sending them and a mountain of books crashing to the floor.

  “Really,” I hiss. “How mature of you. I see you’ve really grown up over the past year and a half.” My glare never wavers, blood simmering in my veins as I conjure up all of the tortuous things I’d like to inflict upon him.