تسجيل الدخولRaised from an infant in discipline, Reza Kelson has been trained to be a cold-blooded killer. Nothing has stopped him when he's been ordered to an assignment, and nothing probably will. An agent for a secret branch of government, he kills and incinerates anything with the discipline of a sharp knife. But even though he's the best at what he does, tables turn when the government dumps Reza from bureaucracy, albeit with a place to be hidden away in. Now Reza finds himself struggling to integrate into the sleepy town of Lonewood. Raised without any form of love or compassion, he naturally comes off as rude and abrasive, and therefore drawing attention. And with other dumped agents, with some bent on settling scores, the entire situation could not be more risible and outrageous. Not to mention the strange boy, Dane Rochelle, who seems strangely possessive of him, and with Reza balances the life he never should have had.
عرض المزيدGracie
My fiancé is gay. That was the thought echoing through my head as I stood there frozen, watching a scene I could never unsee. I stared at the man thrusting into my fiancé’s ass, and at Charles moaning like a goddamn whore in heat. This was my fiance, the man I was supposed to marry in five days. The man I had shared a bed, a future, a life with for five whole years. But he was there, legs spread wide, eyes rolled back in bliss I had never seen cross his face when he was with me. I couldn’t breathe anymore, everywhere felt like it was spinning. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. My eyes stayed locked, watching as if my brain couldn’t register that this was real. “Ah, fuck, Mark… yes, I love this… fuck… you’re so big.” Charles moaned, and the words hit me like punches to the gut. My hand flew to my mouth, pressing hard to keep the nausea down. My heart felt like it had been torn from my chest and shoved down a garbage disposal. Was this a nightmare? Was I going to wake up in our apartment, beside him, with his arms around me and none of this real? “Fuck yeah, Charles, baby,” the man grunted. “Take my big boy. Take him good.” “Ah, daddy! Give me your big boy!!!” Tears burned the back of my eyes. My knees buckled slightly, and I reached out to the doorframe for support. Daddy? He had never called me anything in bed. What was I saying? He had never seemed that interested in sex with me. Two minutes. That was the amount of minutes he took before he came. Anytime I asked him for more, he would say he was tired or he would just give me a disgusted look before leaving. My mind raced, spiraling out of control. Is he gay? Bisexual? Has he always been like this? Had he been faking it with me? All these years? Every kiss, every time he said I love you, every plan we made for the future, was it all a lie? I felt humiliated, sick, and like a goddamn fool. How do women process this? How do they act when they find out their supposedly straight fiancé is getting his back blown out by another man days before the wedding? But what was I saying? Most women haven’t caught their future husband mid-thrust with another man. I felt something wet on my cheeks. My hand lifted, brushing my skin. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. “Fuck, yes, I’m close!!” Charles moaned from the bed. I shook my head slowly, like maybe if I shook hard enough, I could wake up from this twisted reality. But the sound of him panting, the sight of them tangled together was still there. I laughed bitterly. “You know what?” I said, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You’re really fucking shameless, Charles.” They froze and Charles’s head whipped toward me. His eyes stretched wide in panic. He scrambled away from the man between his legs, grabbing at the nearest blanket and yanking it over himself like that could somehow undo what I’d just seen. “G-Gracie…” he stammered, his voice cracking. “What… what are you doing here?” I pressed harder against the wall, still wiping at the tears with the back of my shaking hand, trying to stay on my feet. “What am I doing here?” I repeated slowly, meeting his eyes. “That’s the first thing you have to say? After I walk in on this?” He shook his head, still clutching the blanket. “No. No, it’s not— it’s not what it looks like.” “Not what it looks like? Not what it looks like?!” I pushed off the wall, legs wobbling, hands balled into fists. “Charles, you’re cheating on me with a fucking man. In our bed. In the house we brought to live together after our wedding. You are spreading your ass for someone else, moaning his name like you have never been fucked before, and you have the audacity to tell me it’s not what it looks like? What exactly does it look like, then? He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His face crumpled as he looked at me with shame, guilt, and mostly fear. “You’re a bastard,” I hissed. “After everything I’ve done for you. After five years of loyalty, patience, planning our goddamn future together, this is what I get in return? This is who you are when I’m not looking? How dare you do this to me!” The man who had been inside him only moments ago rolled his eyes and sat up. “Jesus,” he muttered. “How dramatic.” He started pulling on his clothes, unbothered. “I don’t want to be caught up in this mess, Charles. I’m out.” Charles turned to him, panicked. “Mark, wait— I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” Mark cut him off with a dismissive wave. “It’s fine. You were right about her, though. She is dramatic.” That did it. Something inside me snapped. My whole body shook with rage. Why were they acting like this was normal? Why were they not on their knees begging? Why was no one crying but me? He didn’t even look surprised, that meant he knew Charles was already in a relationship and still went ahead and fucked him on our bed. “You fucking asshole!” I stormed toward him, hand raised, ready to deliver the slap he damn well deserved, but before I could reach him, Charles moved fast. “Stop it, Gracie!” he shouted, grabbing my wrist and yanking me back. His grip was tight, fingers digging into my skin. “What the hell are you doing?!” “What am I doing?” I spat, eyes blazing. “Stay out of it, bastard! Wait for your fucking turn.” I jerked toward Mark, but Charles stepped in front of me again, blocking my path. “Don’t be delusional,” he said coldly. “I won’t let you touch him. Don’t even dare.” My heart dropped. He sounded so… protective of him. The man he cheated with. The man who had just mocked me, smirked at me, and walked out of bed with my fiancé like this was some goddamn sitcom. “Why?” I whispered, stunned. “Why are you protecting him? Are you seriously defending him? After what you did to me? Shouldn't you be on your knees right now?” Behind Charles, Mark straightened his shirt, not even trying to hide the smugness on his face. Then he looked at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “Why are you surprised?” he said, shrugging casually. “Did you honestly think he ever liked you in the first place? Use your brain, girl.” My mouth opened, but no sound came out. “If it weren’t for your families being involved,” Mark continued, “do you really think he’d even look at someone like you?” My vision blurred with anger. I could feel the blood roaring in my ears. “Let me go,” I growled through gritted teeth, yanking at my arm. “Let me go this instant, Charles!” “No!” he barked. “Stop it, Gracie!” I shoved him hard enough to make him stumble back a step. I charged toward Mark, ready to slap the smug off his goddamn face but Charles lunged between us and in a flash, his hand shot out and slapped me hard. My head jerked to the side, cheek burning at the sudden impact. “Don’t you fucking dare lay a hand on Mark!”"Happy birthday, Reza," says Dane as he gives a sweet hug."This wasn't necessary," I say into his arm and chest. His soft red sweater is comfy as it forms a cocoon around me."I would do this even if I had only ten cents left," says Dane sweetly.He rocks me softly from side to side as he nuzzles the top of my head. A gentle waltz in place."I'm happier than I appear," then I say happily.I hug him tighter, and he does too."Aww, that's so sweet," remarks Dexter from behind Dane at the kitchen island."Yeah. It's amazing," adds on Ves.Letting me untangle from him slightly, Dane lets me take in the scene before him. A vanilla cake sits on the kitchen island and a few gifts sit on the counter beside it. Some balloons in red and pink float to the ceiling.Everyone present, Ves, Mia, Pika, Jack, Dexter, and even Rupert has a hat on their head. A cone with colorful lines. Lewis and Irene came by earlier in the day to leave their gifts, and gave a hug and kiss on my cheek.Sweet people."
"Don't you want to text your friends that you're okay?" asks Evan as he pulls the ropes on my body away. "I'd rather you take me back to the mall," I say flatly. Meeting back up with everyone, especially Dane, is something I want to happen in the near future. Right now to be precise. "I will, but I want to chat first," he says, well whines really. "And it'll take more than thirty minutes?" I ask. "Probably. So even if we talk in the car, we won't have time," he says. Having untied the chains and ropes around me, he sets them in the corner and puts my Ruger and phone on the table in front of me. "I'll text them then," I say. Evan nods and I send a quick message to Dane and Ves. They're the people in need of knowing what is happening. "So, what do you want to chat about?" I ask as I slip my phone into my pocket. "So you're the third most dangerous person in North America?" he asks. He leans on one arm of his chair. I sit back in my chair, one arm on each of the c
Walking around the mall with seven other teens, I think of how if this was under any other circumstances where I was in my former occupation, I would be absolutely ballistic. No agent with a third of a brain would ever need any kind of hint or clue to gather that this would not be an acceptable situation. It just stands out too much.But, I'm not that, and I have to tell that to myself. Eight people walking around a mall is probably not an unusual spectacle. Eight teens walking around is probably what every American has seen or imagined once in their life.Entering a retail store, we disperse into groups of two or three to look around. I drift around with Mia and Lewis."Look at this shirt. It's so pristine," remarks Mia as she pulls out a baby blue shirt that looks to be made of cotton. The pearly buttons glisten with the shiny surface of the shirt."It looks good with your hair," complements Lewis as he looks over from a rack of jeans."He's right," I say.Looking around, I notice a
"Have you heard what happened to Avezedo?" I ask Dexter as he sets a plate of eggs and pancakes on the table in front of me. Butter slowly slides off the steaming surface of it. I pick up with my fork and eat the food gratefully. "Nothing, zilch, nada," replies Dexter with a shrug. "But he's definitely alive?" I ask. "Probably. No body was found in the woods or anywhere else. After they released him from the police station they didn't keep a tab on him. Needless to say," says Dexter as he sets a plate in front od Dane, "we know he's out there somewhere." "That's ominous," I say flatly. "Yeah," says Dane. His plate clearly has more food on it compared to mine. "But knowing you, it shouldn't be a problem," says Dexter. "Don't say that. You'll make him want to go out and find Avezedo to end him," says Dane with a frown. "Reza wouldn't do that, would you?" asks Dexter. "I might now that I have that idea," I say with a grin. Dexter grins with me as we look at Dane who
Walking up to the school building, I notice the name written across the thing above the doors. A wall? I don't know. It's made of brick anyhow.Lonewood HighschoolUgh. So ghetto.The school looks to be in a state of decay. The once red bricks of the outside seem to be cracking, like old makeup. Wh
I've never felt so exposed. Even during the most intimate sessions during my dead career, when I was naked and they were screwing with me, I never felt as if I was exposing a part of me. As if I ought to be mindful of how I should be more protective of my body.But that was because I had somethin
Walking through the white and clean hallways, I make my way to the briefing room. The white lights glare down at me with cold blue-tinted light. It makes the whole place seem unbelievably sterile. But because I've lived here through the years, the whole setup has a calming effect on me, making me a
Arching up against the meaty flesh of the Russian, I mewl as he rubs his clothed crotch against my butt. He smells like cigars and whiskey, but the pungent smell makes me even hotter for his flesh. "Little squirrel. You've wandered into the ogre's den. And I'll eat you up so that nobody can ev


















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