I told him I loved him and he tossed me aside like a fucking candy wrapper.
Never said it back.
He walked away, letting me get on that damn plane to rot away in England.
My best friend.
I hate him for turning his back on me. On us.
I hate that I missed him each and every day.
I hate that I can still remember the way his lips felt crushed against mine.
And most of all, I hate that I want to experience it again.
But Xander doesn’t wait around for me to finish my jaunt down Memory Lane before he lashes out yet again, his tone scathing and his gaze murderous.
“Fuck you, Puppet,” he snarls, dragging a finger down the front of my shirt. My nipples pebble, and I bite back a frustrated scream since my body is clearly on a different page than my inner raving bitch. She’s such a goddamn traitor!
“You’re about to find out how it really feels to be under someone’s control. The shit with your dad is nothing compared to the hell that awaits you here. So get fucking ready.” His dark eyes spit fire, embers of hatred glowing threateningly in the depths. He backs away, a slow, malicious smirk lifting his lips. As he strides away from me, I blink my eyes to convince myself that what just happened wasn’t some sick and twisted nightmare, that I am actually standing in the center of a room with a whole lot of curious and critical eyes on me.
Puppet. The ridiculous nickname slithers over my skin like a slimy snake. I remember the first time he called me that. Fucking idiot. He thinks I’m the same girl I was when I was sixteen. I’m not. People change. I’ve changed. And I am not going to be Xander Iazetti’s Puppet. And he sure as shit will not get the last word in…ever. Goddamn me for letting it happen again! He isn’t going to just be able to walk away from me again.
He may think he runs things here, that people bend to his every whim.
Little does he know that he won’t get very far pulling my strings.
Nobody controls me anymore.
Nobody.
“Friend of yours?” Ellie questions with an eye roll, diving down to help me retrieve my books.
“He used to be. He definitely isn’t anymore.”
“Seems like a real jerkwad if you ask me,” Ellie snickers. “I’ve only ever seen him around school. Haven’t really crossed paths with him. But I’ve heard things.” Ellie swallows hard before continuing. “Terrible things.”
“That’s not a surprise at all. He’s someone no one should know. A devil in sheep’s clothing.” My warning is ill-fated. Xander clearly thinks he runs things here. The king of a cheap castle. The ruler of peons and pathetic drones that crave attention—positive or negative—they don’t care which as long as they are on the short list for prom court.
I shake off the encounter, letting my buzz creep back in. Xander isn’t going to ruin it for me. He isn’t going to get the better of me. I’m not his puppet to control.
“You all right?” Blaine rushes to my side, eyes wide, his jaw tightening.
His hand feels like fire on my prickling skin.
“Yeah. He’s nothing I can’t handle,” I brush him off a little. I am too high and too pissed off for real pleasantries.
A burning stare rushes like wildfire over my body. Glancing over Blaine’s shoulder, Xander is posted up a few tables away, lip-locked with some street-walker-looking teen. His eyes are glued on me as his fingers twist into her hair, his tongue plunged into the back of her throat. My heart clenches and my stomach flips. I hate that he is getting under my skin. I hate that his diabolical actions have any effect on me at all.
Grabbing Blaine’s forearm, I bat my eyelashes at him. Two can play this game. I lean up and kiss Blaine’s clean-shaven cheek.
“Thanks for checking, though. You’re sweet.” I make sure my voice is elevated enough to carry over to my watcher.
“Yeah. Of course. Can’t have someone as pretty as you being treated like that around here.” Blaine’s fingertips trail down my arm, weaving our fingers together. I can see all the lust that was buried years ago rushing back into Blaine’s eyes. His dark irises soaking in it as his gaze rakes down my body.
“Want to eat with us?” I motion to the table where Ellie’s and my food trays are sitting.
He bows his head. “Rain check. I have to go talk to my coach.”
“I am going to hold you to that.”
“Please do.”
His lips connect with my cheek. Fleeting. Empty. But perfectly for my plan.
As Blaine walks away, I notice that Xander has retreated.
Your move, asshat.
Ellie and I munched on the school’s version of vegetarian lasagna. Evidently only the best culinary masterpieces are served here at Ridgeview Prep. It was cheesy pasta bites of heaven, but there wasn’t a lot of time to enjoy its savory goodness. Our little smoke session and ludicrous encounter ate into our lunch time a little more than either one of us had realized.
The bell rings right as I am popping the last bite into my mouth.
“Have you found your locker yet?” Ellie asks, grabbing her tray to toss into the bin.
I shake my head. I had completely forgot about that. We didn’t have lockers in boarding school. “Not yet. Haven’t found the time between classes.”
“I’ll help you find it. It’s better than lugging these damn things all over Timbuktu all fucking day.”
We weave through the throngs of students rushing to get to their next class. Once we deciphered the long locker list posted on the bulletin board outside of the administration office, Ellie led the way. It was as far away as possible, tucked in a back hallway at the end of the new wing of Ridgeview Prep.
“What the?” I checked the number five times. There is no way that we were at my locker. How could someone have already gotten to it first? In bright red marker, the phrase I’M A SLUT was blaring at me.
“Holy hell,” Ellie scoffs, trying to force down a laugh. “That’s fucking cold.”
Xander.
There was no other explanation for the shaming remark.
“He’s going to pay for this shit,” I growl low. There was no way in hell I was going to let him get away with this.
First day at a new school? No fucking way.
We’ll see who the puppet really is.
* * *
“We take these matters very seriously at this school, Miss Hawthorne. I don’t know what jokes you were able to pull in London, but here in Ridgeview, we have a zero-tolerance policy for things of this nature.”
“Mr. McCleary, please. Why would I write something so heinous on my own locker?” What in the fuck? How could this be my fault?
“Seeing the reports from your last school, you tell me…”
The old douchebag was squinting through his bottle-thick glasses down at my file. Every black stain branding me as a problem child. I get it. I know that I am not a model student. But this? Really?
“Sir, please. You have to believe me.” My voice cracks. My hands shake with rage. I want to scream, throw a complete fit. But I know that it wouldn’t do anything. No one ever listens anyway.
“You’re getting morning detention for defacing school property. You are to show up early tomorrow morning to repaint your locker. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” I bow my head. I want to roll over on Xander, but how could I prove it? There was a mountain of paperwork sitting inches away that painted the picture of Charlotte Hawthorne: Menace to Society.
“Your father is on his way. I will explain the circumstances to him. Don’t take this lightly. I am going easy on you just this once. Any other outbursts from you and I will be forced to take harsher disciplinary action.”
My father? How in the hell did Principal McCleary have that kind of juice. My father refused to let anything interfere with his work day. Even when I broke my arm, it was my brother who came to my rescue.
I hear the clearing of someone’s throat behind me. I twist in my seat. Mt heart sinks.
My father’s disapproving and enraged glare is ripping into my flesh like a ravenous wolverine.
“Charlotte, it’s time to go.” My father’s broad body takes up the entire doorway to the small office. He towers over me, and instantly I am an ant ready to be squashed by his shoe.
Following my father out of the office, I feel eyes boring into me. Glancing back, Xander is just staring over at me, leaning against the far wall of the building with two cronies on either side. His smoldering stare cuts through me as he mouths the word Puppet.
Without hesitation, I flip him off. As he starts to laugh, my blood boils.
“Charlotte,” my father barks next to Rolland’s Town Car. “I am not in the mood.”
I want to stay and fight.
I want to prove that I am not going to let Xander trample me. I am not Mufasa. He is not a herd of wildebeests.
My father’s heavy hand wraps around my wrist, yanking me toward him. “I am not going to say it twice.”
I slide into the backseat without protest. This was a war. One by one I will win battles. I will be victorious.
My father slides in behind me. The divider is up. We were alone. I didn’t have Rolland to offer a kind glance in the rearview.
“What did I warn you about this morning?” Charles Hawthorne’s signature growl rips into my ear. I keep my eyes forward. I can’t look at his thundering eyes. I can’t see the disgust in his glare right now.
“I didn’t do it,” I mutter. One last ditch effort to profess my innocence.
“Then why are you the one with detention? Why was I pulled out of a meeting to collect my daughter on her first day of school?” he snarls. The heat radiating off my father burns at my flesh, down to the bone. It makes my heart sink into my churning stomach.
“It won’t happen again, sir.” I retreat.
No freaking way.
I’m not going to be a puppet for Xander’s—or anyone’s—amusement.
Effective immediately, I’m going to start pulling the strings on my life myself.
Chapter 8
Xander
“Some things haven’t changed, huh? Big Daddy Hawthorne still has a flagpole up his ass.” Asher snickers, reclining in a large leather chair. I toss him a bottle of VitaminWater and sink onto the couch.
“Looks like,” I grunt in reply. Fucking asshole rolling up in his precious car like the pretentious douchebag he is. I know he heard me laugh. But he wouldn’t even give me the satisfaction of a glare so I could have told him to suck my cock right to his face.
Guess I’ll have to try harder next time. Really ruffle his ass feathers.
Because knowing I got the best of Charlotte wasn’t enough. I want that bastard to feel it, too...every single thing I do to torture his puppet of a daughter is gonna come back to bite him in the dick. I’ll make sure of that.
“What’s the deal with you guys, anyway?” Chase asks, taking a long sip of his drink. “She disappears in the middle of sophomore year, and nothing? You guys were constantly up each other’s asses for as long as I can remember. But you never said anything after she took off. Why not?”
I shrug. “Nothing to say. It was bound to happen. We don’t exactly run in the same circles. Shit would have fallen apart on its own anyway.” But even as I speak the words, I know they’re bullshit. I would have done anything for her, to keep whatever friendship we had intact. I wasn’t afraid of her parents or their money. Hell, my family has enough to rival theirs. But her father didn’t give a damn about who had more to spend...only who had more to gain by me and Char being apart.
He fucking won, because once she left, I lost everything.
My life, my soul, my purpose.
And even though I do serve a purpose now, it’s a hollow existence.
I care about nothing.
I empathize with nothing.
I am nothing.
“Xander, I love you! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me!”
I remember those words...words that tumbled in desperation from Char’s lips as if they were just spoken moments ago, but the truth is, I didn’t leave her. She left me, a long time before that.
When she picked her family over her alleged love.
Love. What a joke. It’s just a word. That’s all it ever was, at least on her side.
Because you don’t just walk away if something matters to you. You don’t agree to hop a plane to London to satisfy your prick-ass father’s need to control every single element of your life.
You fight for it.
You bleed for it.
You never cower from it.
She cowered. She caved. She’d made her decision before she even let me in on the plan.
The same way she’d done for years before that.
I always ignored it because I may not have known much, but I knew, even back then, that I needed her in my life.
And she needed me, too, except she was afraid to admit it to her father.
She didn’t fight for me. She knew the hellfire that would rain down on her if she spoke against him. He’d been pulling the strings for years, and Char just let it happen, never standing up for what she wanted.
What she deserved.
And I refused to sit on the sidelines and watch for a fucking second longer.
So, yeah, I high-tailed it out of there and threw myself to the rabid wolves waiting in the wings.
I needed her, and she cast me aside like trash.
The trash her parents have always seen me as being.
“I don’t know why you’re sitting here grousing about her being back,” Asher says.
“I’m not grousing,” I grumble.
“Okay, sorry. You’re just acting like a moody bitch because…?” Asher lifts an eyebrow, and at this second, I fucking hate him for calling me out, exposing me for the very things about myself that I hate.
The fact that much as I try not to, I still do feel when it comes to Char.
A lot.
I leap up from my chair and launch my body at his, my hand gripping his shoulder tight, my lips hissing right against his face. “Don’t you ever make a comment like that again, do you understand me? You’ve got a place, yeah?”
Asher’s eyes widen and he nods, clearly not expecting my calculated move.
“If you don’t want to lose it,” I say in a low voice. “Then don’t fucking dare ask me a question like that. You have a great life right now. Don’t fuck it up because you think you can pull off being a smart-ass.”
“Easy, Xan. I didn’t mean to piss you off.” Asher puts up both of his hands and I back away, raking a hand through my hair.
Jesus Christ.
I’m as bad as Jase.
“Forget it,” I grunt.
“Forget what? That you’re pussy-whipped again because your little rich-bitch girlfriend rolled back into town and showed up with an insanely hot body courtesy of all the fish and chips she’s been eating?”
I clench my fists as the snide voice of my brother slithers over my skin like a slimy fucking leech.
Not now, dammit!
Jase walks into the room, arms folded and wearing a shit-eating grin.
I’ll make him eat shit.
We’ll see if he smiles that big afterward.
“How the fuck do you know she’s back?”
“I mighta seen her with another hot piece of ass walking together when I passed by your little school earlier.” He licks his lips. “Mm. I’d love to tap that.” Then he lets out a sick snicker. “Well, that and that actually.”
“Actually. Big word for you, bro. Don’t choke on it,” I say in a sharp tone, grabbing my jacket and nodding to the guys. “Let’s get out of here. ”
Jase grabs my arm as the guys make a beeline for the front door. Nobody relishes being around my turd of a brother for too long because everyone knows he’s a loose cannon, someone who can blow off heads at any given second for pretty much no reason at all. “Don’t get your panties in a wad just because she might prefer a real
man now that she’s done honking the English horns. And we both know she’ll be addicted once she gets a taste of my cock.”
“Oh, you mean your STD-infected cock? The one you ram into any hole you can find, no matter who it’s attached to?” I puff out my chest, pulling my spine straight up to meet his gaze face to snarling face.
Jase snickers. “Don’t be jealous, baby bro.” He nods at the guys backing out of the house. “I’m sure you’re at least packing more than these two clowns, anyway.” He narrows his eyes. “Speaking of which, where are you dumbasses headed anyway?”
My face twists into a grimace. “If I don’t tell you, you’ll have me tailed anyway. So why fucking bother asking?”
Jase sweeps a hand through his spiky black hair and lets out a loud rumbling chuckle. “So you’re still pissed off at me, huh? For selling you out?” The laughter stops abruptly and he backs me against a wall. “For telling Dad what a fucking stupid move you made...the one you were specifically told not to make?”
“Is that the real reason, Jase?” I seethe, pushing my weight against him. “Did you tell Dad because you thought it would be bad for the family? Or bad for you?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he yells, slamming a fist against the wall next to me.
“You need me to say it, brother?” My chest shudders with rage as I draw in sharp breath after sharp breath. Each one slices away at my insides, shredding me more and more. A quick glance out the front door confirms the guys are close enough to the house to be within earshot.
And they can’t witness this...any of it.
For plenty of reasons, namely their safety.
If Jase thinks they’ve heard anything and he’s at risk of looking like an asshole, then he’ll have a point to prove.
Twice.
“Yeah,” he says, a murderous look glimmering in his dark eyes. “Say it. I wanna hear you say it! And then I’m gonna stuff those words right back down your punk ass throat!”
My eyes slide back to my friends’ questioning looks.
This double life is wearing. Half the time, I’m used as a physical and verbal punching bag for my unhinged brother while he sends me off to do his ‘errands’, all the menial shit to keep me occupied and away from the big-ticket stuff he wants to take all the credit for. And the other half I spend trying to convince the rest of the world that despite what happens within the walls of this monstrosity of a mansion, I really am king of my own domain.
Puppet: Ridgeview Prep Book 1 Page 6
