Brandon Routh Novels & Stories

"I'll be in touch, and I'll let either you two or Liam know when I'm ready to meet you again. I'll see what I can do." Brandon Hancock, aka Rooster, hadn't been to this middle school in years. Not since he and Liam Walker had been kicked out and threatened with jail time. Brandon shook his head as he thought of his wild childhood. Things hadn't been easy for either one of them. Liam was stuck trying to live up to the preconceived notions that everyone had about him since his dad was the leader of Heaven Hill. Brandon had been busy trying to get as far away from an alcoholic stepfather as he could. The two of them ended up hanging out with each other on more than one occasion. Brandon knew th

Brandon sighed deeply, as if weary of repeating that we could never be together. "Well, Rachel and I will be returning to Stockholm tomorrow morning, and I need to retire for the night," Brandon announced with a hint of finality. "I'll see you before I depart," he added, making his way towards the door. I wasn't surprised that I couldn't convince Brandon to be with me. Brandon is an epitome of unwavering loyalty and honor. He would go to great lengths to uphold the trust placed in him, and his noble character remained steadfast. He never engaged in actions that would betray people's trust.

Because I was too weak and the force he had thrown me with was quite much, I landed fist-faced to the floor. Besides, with the hard floor, I got some bruises on my skin. Even though I couldn't care less about the injury and wanted to sit up and how before this Alpha who looked quite intimidating, my body wouldn't listen to me. "What do you think you're doing? Kneel!"

Brandon’s voice sounded right next to my ear a second later, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “I…I’m n-not!” I cursed myself for stuttering as I turned around slowly to face him. Brandon was wearing a dark red t-shirt today, with its sleeves pulled up to his elbows. The V-neck in the front was low enough that I could easily see the lines of his collarbone and paired with a pair of black jeans, he embodied the bad-boy vibe that he was well known for.

Neither of us could believe it. Brandon was an Alpha, soon to succeed his father's throne after graduation. Wealthy, desired by many, and a known playboy, I knew I wasn't his type of girl, not to mention the future Luna. "Bloody shit! What sort of stupid fate is this? You, of all people? A rut like you? Naïve, dresses worse than a nerd, dirty, weak, and barely able to speak for yourself? I'd rather die than accept you!" he roared, anger flashing in his eyes.

"I want to live it up while I still can." "My man!" Brandon said as he threw an arm around me. "All right, first thing's first, we gotta get you girls—lots of them." "I think I'll handle that on my own," I replied, hiding a slick smirk. "All right, all right," Brandon said as he took his arm away, "good man. You'll need that confidence to impress the ladies." He then turned to the other two. "Did I or did I not say the boy's gonna be six-foot-two, two-twenty-five and ripped? He's on his way to becoming a man! Yeah!"

The attacks that brandon unleashed one after another. His every move is very fast and polished. I finally understand what Amanda said about Brandon. He is a big man and his fists are so big that the force he releases is almost double. I hear screams and shouts as brandon attacks me non-stop. And since I haven't formed yet, all I do is dodge and parry every attack he unleashes. Even when he is attacking, I see that he is always on the defensive so I find it difficult to see an opportunity to attack him.

His canine teeth were still extended, wet with the evidence of his treason. "Oh, hell! Luke!" Brandon barked, his voice cracking with a coward’s despair. He threw his arms over his waist as if he could shield the truth. "It’s not what it looks like. We were just... the heat... it just happened." Just happened. Like a lunar eclipse. Like a thunderstorm. Repeatedly. On my floor. "Luke, let me explain." My ears were joining the conspiracy now. That was definitely Brandon’s voice—the quarterback of the Coastal team, the man who was supposed to be my Alpha.

With my front hands still cuffed in front of me, I leapt forward, aiming for his throat. Just at that exact moment, I heard shouts come from around me. Was this Daemon coming to save me? Perfect timing. That momentary distraction was enough for me to stab Brandon in the throat with the nail. Leaving the nail there, I slammed my fists into his ribs, the cuffs biting into my own skin with each blow. He grunted but didn’t falter. Desperation clawed at me. I couldn’t let him win. I twisted, aiming a knee for his groin.

Alessio growled, his and Dante's guns pointed at Abruzzo. "He's here to help," A man in a custom white suit stepped forward, flashing a big grin. Standing five feet nine inches with pale skin and bright grey eyes, he was Nino's younger brother, who had been living away with his family. "Tom!" Russo growled, warning him to step back from him. "I'm here to help." Jenoah Abruzzo muttered, his face fell in shame, "Angelo should be punished, so no one dares to betray their leaders." Jenoah said.