Books About Guns And Roses Novels & Stories

CHAPTER FOUR CALEB'S POV After I had treated the shallow gash on my head, and securely bound the girl, I went downstairs to join the boys, and drink as well. The news about the abduction was still on, I was getting irritated watching it again Coupled with the fact that the reporters were adding spicy details to the story. There was a report that we had a shoot out with the police and killed two of them. There was also one that we killed some onlookers.

She spun around with her steps getting more erratic like she was starting to get to the highest point of her music. "No you are not fine" Just as Elena made to get out of the bed, Rose turned around and pointed the gun at her with so much precision which made Elena know she had learnt how to use a gun before and she probably wasn't a newbie. "You killed him, my joy. He died because of that pretty face of yours" "What do you mean, Rose, we can talk about this. Just put the gun down"

The baby cried, louder this time, but her cries seemed to carry a strange resonance, as if the very woods shuddered in response. The assassins closed in. I could hear their boots, their growls, their laughter. “Kill the brat first,” one hissed. “No!” My scream tore from my chest, raw and primal. The first blade slashed toward us and then, light erupted. Roses glowed, soft at first, then blinding. The pearl inside her flared, sending a pulse of power that knocked the assassin backward as though struck by an invisible hand. He hit a tree with a sickening crack.

He underestimated me. “I have information that will interest you boss.” He quickly said. He must’ve noticed my hand lingering on the gun beside me. “What makes you think I want to listen to you?” I raised my eyebrow. “Everyone in the underground is talking about it. A book.” He takes a deep breath, “There’s a book that has all the secrets of all the gangs in the city. Even that of El Alma.” The mere mention of the top mafia group in Chicago grabs my attention. Even though it was mostly non-existent and hidden, El Alma remained the biggest mafia group to ever exist. It’s been around since my father was still a boy.

The warm atmosphere chilled significantly at the interruption. The waiter stood there awkwardly, holding the roses, unsure whether to do as she said. When Heather remained silent, he chose to leave silently. This did not deter Charles at all. He continued to send a bouquet of roses, pink this time, to her studio every single day. None of the bouquets even made it inside; they were disposed of in the trash can almost immediately. At another art exhibition, Charles confronted Heather at the entrance and demanded why she refused to accept his flowers.

The girl leaned close, and the boy looked up at her, the corners of his eyes curving slightly. His gaze was full of her. He smiled and pointed to the flowerpot she had just placed nearby. Half teasing, he said, “Then Cecilia is a red rose. Delicate and thorny. Only I can afford to take care of you.” Cecilia turned and looked at the roses Lucas had placed in the room that morning. And tears streamed silently down her face.

The tires shrieked against the smooth concrete as I parked the car in a dark, unlit corner near the service elevator. I turned the key, and the engine died, plunging the car into a heavy, tense silence. "Check the magazine," I told her, nodding toward the gun in her lap. Rodah looked down at the iron, her fingers trembling slightly as she pressed the release button I had shown her earlier. The heavy clip dropped into her hand. She shoved it back into the handle with a sharp, satisfying *clack*, her jaw set. She didn't know how to aim like a professional, but she had enough rage in her blood to pull the trigger until it was empty.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked away, and Rome found himself wondering how he had slept through that--how thick were these walls, anyway? “What should we do?” Ella asked. “I don’t think we should do anything,” Gus replied, looking Ella in the eyes. “King has it under control, I’m sure.” “What were they shooting at then?” Rome asked. Gus stepped over to the monitors, his hands on his hips, as he looked from one to the next. These weren’t as high tech as the ones upstairs, but they could see what was happening. The two men they’d seen with shotguns were making their way through the woods. On another monitor, a spring of some sort was triggered, and the guns went off again, but this t

I stood on the pavement and stared up at the signboard of the shop he’d parked his ride in front of. “The Blossom Blooms,” I read out loud. It was a tiny floral shop wedged between the sporting goods store and the local pharmacy, but it stood out for the gorgeous, colorful blooms on display on the other side of its glass storefront. “You’re here to buy flowers?” I asked. “You like stating the obvious, huh,” he replied. Ollie held the door open for me, and it almost made me forgive him for his last sarcastic comment, almost. The Blossom Blooms interior smelled heavily of roses and magnolias and hyacinths and a few others I didn’t know the names for. This mix of scents was kind of nice and not

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