Battlefield 4 Recker Novels & Stories

***Derrick's POV*** A sinister smirk grew on my face as I made my way to the front line. They underestimated me. They thought their little trick with the landmines would bring me down. I snarled. I had prepared myself for this battle. Even after losing over five hundred men. I have a thousand more to fight for me. Today will be the beginning of my reign. After, I kill Ryker and her mate. All the power will be mine. I smell my victory in the air.

" Okay, but what about my payment?" I nodded. Finding no other way to kill my time here. He guides me to the bar and steadies the revolving bar chair for me to sit. I felt strange again. No man has treated me with so much respect before. He seemed like a nice guy. We started chit-chatting, but my eyes were fixed on my brother's back. Ryder was telling me that he was the head warrior in the second-biggest pack in the world. He attended mid-semester to finish his studies.

He can't see me cause his face is on the opposite side which gives me a full view of his large tanned back, tensing at his compressed movements. With the bar on his shoulders, he does some repetitive squats and the veins of his streaky arms throb at every crouching position. A few drops of sweat are glistening on his spine till they disappear in his grey joggings pants. I try to catch my breath because I'm suffocating due to too much hotness. That guy is too peachy. Oh, what am I doing? It's like I'm stalking him. Stop this Hayat! Shaking my head to snap out of those thoughts, I take a deep breath to gather courage and finally call him in a loud tone, "Eren!"

Ryker. Dead eyes glowing, grin already splitting his face like he’d won the lottery. I blinked once, twice, and then smiled a wide, sweet smile innocent enough to rot teeth. “Hi, Ryker,” I chirped, voice sugar over razor blades. “Nice catch. Molto eroico(hero). Ten out of ten, would fall again.” He stared for a beat, chest heaving against mine and then he threw his head back and laughed loudly unrestrained, and absolutely fucking unhinged, the sound bouncing off stone walls.

I sunk my claws into his stomach. I pushed on, searching the field for my father. Garrick’s voice cut through the chaos, calling positions. Warriors were being flanked. Mothers screamed names. The whole pack seemed to die slowly by the minute. I found him at the center. Alpha Ryker stood surrounded by Lucius warriors. His movements were slower now. He was bleeding seriously. barked a command and then cut down another attacker. I charged. Two men fell to my jaws and claws before I reached him. fought together in sync. He swung while I tore, and together we forced a little space around us.

It cooled my raging anger when I saw his one eye gone and lips busted with all the beating he received. “Alpha Adonis, hello. It’s nice to see you as a single man again.” He smirked. Ryker growled and it made his smirk grow wider. I was giving him the satisfaction. “And I am pleased to tell you that your breathing is numbered, Derek. With the wake of the dawn, you’ll be left as the food for starving scavengers, isn’t it great?” I laughed maniacally. For a split of second, I saw the fear of death masking his face but he quickly hid it.

Lina sat on the lid, her eyes locked on the cracked screen. A ping. Bailey Reid’s message materialized like a ghost. Seller: Kamden Travis. Cargo: Military-grade automatic rifles, AP rounds, two crates of RPG-7s. Buyer: Victor Russos. Status: Logistics complete. Staging: Sector 4, Parking L2. Lina’s heart stopped. A cold, sharp ache blossomed in her lungs. Sector 4. Parking Level 2.

Visions flashed: *pinning her against silk sheets, her gasps mingling with pleas, my hands mapping every curve until she arched under me, begging for the release only I could give. Fuck. I shoved it down, hard. A bonus, maybe, if the pieces fell that way. A sweet aftertaste to victory. But not the play. Not yet. Focus on the board, Zacian. Scare Dom back into line, watch him fold. My phone buzzed on the marble counter, shattering the haze. Ryker's name lit the screen. He was my right hand, built like a muscular tank yet lithe and agile enough to vanish in a fight. The one guy who could crack a smile in a bloodbath without losing an ounce of edge.

My fingers brush cold polymer. The Glock. It must have flown out of Drakon’s holster during the roll. I grab it. It feels heavy, a solid weight in a world that has lost its gravity. I check the slide. It’s in battery. The back doors of the van are twisted, hanging open on bent hinges. Through the gap, I see a pair of combat boots stop. A shadow falls over the opening. A Reaper leans down. He peers into the wreckage. He’s wearing a skull mask, his rifle raised.

"The King says keep the throttle pinned! Blood on the asphalt!" The Revers roared their approval, the sound of fifty open-piped choppers deafening the alien calls of the jungle wildlife. But the jungle wasn't just going to let an army roll through its pristine, mutated ecosystem unchallenged. "Movement on the right flank!" Captain Reyes called out. She was standing in the gunner’s hatch of a heavy scav-crawler right behind the motorcycle vanguard, her plasma rifle coated in the residual, glowing Origin-Code from the Neon Rain.