Brandon Routh Novels & Stories

I don’t know the voice before I recognize the face. “Fuck”, I say under my breath, “Brandon". He is one of the few kills in my career that I couldn’t accomplish. He stares at me with deep brown eyes fixed inside deep sockets. His skin is almost the complexion of coal. 6'9 and all shoulders, he towers over all of us. Muscles from a naturally active lifestyle ripple under his taut skin. He watches me out of the corner of his eye, and I can tell he wants to kill me---shoot me.

Unlike me, who's life history is available on w*k*pedia in seventy two hours. Like their Grandmother said, Storm is not just a name but a legacy, a pride that they are abide to preserve. "Girls, are you ready for the real fun?" Brandon's voice diverts our attention on the ever energetic man, thus putting a full stop on our conversation. "What did you do, Brand? I am not getting any fun feelings from you?" Roch narrows her eyes at her brother in suspecion.

“I just didn’t want to hear it so soon.” He paused, then continued, “I didn’t help you only because I wanted something back. I like you, Rue, but I also respect you. If your heart is with Percy, I won’t stand in the way.” I felt guilty hearing him speak, but his voice stayed calm. Brandon gave a small smile and said, “Then I’ll stay as your loyal friend. As a friend, I can still protect you and stop you from making poor business decisions.” I finally smiled a little. “You never stop making jokes.” He gave a small smirk and said, “That is how I keep my pride.” Then he stood up. “I’ll stay nearby if you need me.”

Brandon didn’t know how to wrap up the news that all this time he had an elder brother. He kept staring at the man in front of him, Ambrose Wayne, who got his looks from his real father while he got them from his mother, except for eyes and hair, of course. He had shoulder-length brown, messy hair and a big scar on his left eyebrow. Whatever the reason behind his injury, it could have damaged his eyes. Brandon wouldn't be surprised if he found multiple scars like that all over Ambrose’s body after all, the rogue’s life wasn’t an easy one.

Brandon stared at Cynthia and Jake as the duo gave him a hysterical laugh. “Buddy, if you’re not up tight ... this would be the seventh time a lady would whoop your ass today” Jake jested. “And that means I’d actually be spelling his name” Cy nthia said with a smirk “7 – 0 equals to B – R – A – N – D – O – N” “Just chill and see, I’d win this now” Brandon replied with a serious note as he picked his card up shielding the number to his side, it was Cynthia’s turn ....

“Can you sense him?” “Yes!!” Brandon nodded his head. “Five, Four, Three, Two…” A loud roar tore through the entire atmosphere. . #TBC

Moore put down the cup of tea on the table before he crossed his legs, showing a luxurious shoes from the brand Roose. “Brandon told us about it. He’s not good at hiding and I guess he never planned on hiding to us. He was so excited when he talked about Brent and so we got excited as well. You know, Brandon is 38 and he needs an heir and… Luna to protect him.” My forehead wrinkled. “Luna?” I asked. He lifted his hand and then gently scratched his temple. “Well… more like a Queen of the pack.” “Queen of the pack?”

It was like I had been drowning. The evidence lived in the way my eyes still felt sore and puffy, but I could only hope no one noticed. "Very good! Very good!" My shoulder’s squared back when Brandon entered the field more fully. It was the first time I was able to actually get a good look at him. Brandon was tall and handsome; his frame leaner than his alpha’s but just as in shape. He had dirty blonde hair that was tussled upwards on his head, showcasing his strong features, thin brows, and narrow eyes. I could see from where I stood they were a light brown, and I also noticed he had pearly white teeth when he suddenly smiled at me through the throngs of people.

Brandon said, as if he could see my anxiety. “Drake wants to ruin me. He wants to humiliate me so he can steal my fucking inheritance.” “Then don’t let him,” Brandon said, firmer now. “You’re Cameron-freaking-whatever-your-last-name-is. You’re smart. You’ve got me. And that’s basically like having your own personal chaos army.” I actually smiled at that—even if it was the tired kind, the kind that’s more for show than anything real. My cheeks moved but my heart was still face-down on the floor.

Brandon chuckled and looked away, the light from the window reflecting on his face and showing off his chiselled jawline. Then he spoke. "Yes, I can see that. I have not really introduced myself properly, have I? I am Brandon, the idiot's younger brother who also happens to be one of the commanders of our army. I am 23 years old and the second eldest in my family," he said and his smirk disappeared under a small smile. Finally, at least someone is pleasant around here, I thought.