Cavaliere

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

WREN

I pump my legs faster, enjoying the welcoming burn that rips up my thighs as my feet pound on the pavement. I moved to Ravenna Heights about two years ago. The first thing I researched about the city was whether there were any running spots. I was happy to find that the outskirts of Ravenna Heights were absolutely gorgeous. Long roads surrounded by gorgeous trees made for some of the best mind-clearing runs I’ve ever had.

Don’t get me wrong, I love living in the city. Anything you could ever want or need is at the tip of your finger. However, sometimes, I find myself feeling less lonely away from that and on an open road. Everyone keeps to themselves, making it nearly impossible to meet new friends. Sometimes, I feel like I’m just a body that’s easily interchangeable with anyone else. It’s lonely.

And I think I’m in that lonely rut. I’m turning thirty this year, and I feel like I have nothing to show for it. I don’t have a boyfriend or even any potential prospects. I don’t even own a fucking house. My dingy apartment won’t be winning any awards anytime soon. Hell, I don’t even have any friends. Everyone’s out for themselves. If you can’t further their career or social circle in some way, you can kiss that sweet dream of friendship goodbye.

Society puts so much pressure on having your life figured out by this age. If you’re not shacked up with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids, you’re obviously a fucking failure.

Anyone who tells me they have everything figured out is immediately flagged as a fucking liar in my world. I wake up every day with no clue of what I’m doing. We are all just going through the motions until we find a semi-comfortable level of chaos.

I finally see the trees becoming thicker and not as spread out, letting me know that I’m about two miles out of the city. On my run days, I look forward to smelling the crisp, fresh air, but all I’m getting today is a smoky scent mixed with a little gasoline. Almost as if something is on fire.

I push a little harder until I’m in a full-blown sprint for the next mile. Normally, I like to keep this speed for the last mile or two. It really gets all the ick out, making me feel clear again. But something about today has me slowing down halfway through. And that something has to do with a stream of smoke that’s now in my sights. Thick, black streams of smoke are flowing up into the sky straight ahead of me.

Well, that’s fucking weird.

That little voice of reason in the back of my head is telling me to stop and turn around, but my gut is telling me to be the nosey bitch I know that I am.

There are barely any houses on this stretch. The biker clubhouse is still a few miles out from here, and I highly doubt trained criminals like them would cause a scene like this. I can’t imagine it would be good for business.

Just as I round the curve, I see where the smoke is coming from. A car went off the road and crashed head-on into a tree. A feeling of dread settles in the pit of my stomach as I twirl my self-defense ring, the need to reassure myself I put it on before I left riding me hard.

I should probably make sure everyone is okay, if someone is even still in the car, right? That’s what a good samaritan would do. Unless this is a ploy to kidnap a naive person who is now realizing it’s probably not as safe as she once thought to run alone. The true crime junkie in me is praying it’s not the latter.

The front of the black Bentley is basically split in half by the tree. It isn’t until I pause my music and take one of the headphones out of my ear that I hear the groaning. It’s faint, but it’s there. I wince at the pain behind it. Whoever it is sounds like they’re in a shit ton of pain.

“Hello?” I call out as I slowly approach the car. The airbags are deployed, and the windshield is smashed, leaving glass covering the ground. I hear more faint moaning coming from the car as my feet crunch on the glass.

Slowly moving the airbag out of the way to get a better look, I inhale sharply as I lay my eyes on the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. Even with the blood that is pouring down his face right now, I can still make out the sharp, defined cheekbones through the swelling that is growing before my eyes. His finger-length jet-black hair is tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it over and over. The front is matted down from the blood.

“Hey,” I say as softly as I can, considering I’m trying not to freak the fuck out at the fact that I literally ran into a barely conscious and bloody man. “Can you hear me? I’m going to get you some help, okay?” I’m scared of startling him, but I’m honestly not sure if he even hears me. “Please be okay,” I mumble as I unzip my running band to grab my phone. The last thing I need to add to my list of all the things wrong in my life is seeing a man die.

“P-phone p-pocket,” he moans before trailing off. “A-Alessio…”

“I’m going to call for help from my phone, okay? The ambulance will be here in no time. You just need to stay with me.” I’m trying not to let my fear escape into my voice, but I’m failing miserably. The guy looks like he already has one foot out the door.

He painfully tries to clear his throat before responding. “N-no c-cops. A-Alessio.”

No cops? As in, he doesn’t want me to report this?

“No cops?” I ask as I’m wondering who in the hell Alessio is.

Bloody Man lets out another groan that I’m pretty sure was supposed to be a grunt of confirmation. Well, I’ve always been a firm believer in honoring a dying man's wish.

“Alright, alright,” I say more to myself than to him as I stick my hand through the broken window, trying to be mindful of the glass as I reach toward his pockets. If he wasn’t already so fucked up from the crash, I would be embarrassed with how I’m searching around trying to find the right pocket.

With my dignity still intact, I find his phone on my second try. I forgot how clear the screens are when they aren't cracked. Holding the phone up to his face, I pray that it recognizes his busted-up face enough to unlock the phone.

I’m in!

Quickly, I search his contacts until I find Alessio’s name and hit call.

I’m only left waiting for one ring before a deep voice answers, “Yeah?”

“Uh… is this Alessio?” I ask, suddenly scared that I may have dialed the wrong number because the man on the other end sounds scary as fuck.

“Who in the fuck is this?” the man demands, his tone oozing with menace.

I clear my throat before answering because, damn, this man isn’t even here, and he’s making me nervous. “I’m Wren. I just need to know if this is Alessio. I have a… pressing matter.” That’s a safe answer, in case this isn’t actually him. Bloody Man obviously wants this under the radar, and the adrenaline from all of this is making me almost too happy to oblige.

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line until the man bites out, “This is Alessio. Now, tell me why in the fuck you have my brother’s phone.” Ah, that makes more sense now.

Choosing to ignore his murdery tone, I continue, “Hi, Alessio. I’m calling from your brother’s phone because there’s been a little accident, and he asked that I call you instead of the cops. I’m not sure it’s the best id?—”

“What kind of a little accident?” He cuts off my rambling with the same tone.

“Uh, he crashed into a tree?” I say as my voice goes up an octave. Like I’m scared he’s going to think I’m the one that did this.

“Tell me where you are,” he demands without missing a beat. I rattle off the location and let him know that his brother is kind of conscious before he disconnects the phone without another word.

“I guess I’ll just wait with you…” I trail off as I sit down on the ground, feeling lost on what to do. I have a man next to me covered in blood that’s now passed out but still breathing, and an other man on his way that sounded like he wanted to kill me just for saying something happened to his brother.

I hate to say it, but I really think today’s events are about to be added to the list.