Captain America So You Got Detention Mga Nobela at Kwento

Oliver stood under the hot, white spotlight. The bright light burned his eyes. He stared at the tall man holding his hand. The truth hit him like a heavy, cold rock. Alexander Whitman. The famous hockey captain. The man who fucked him so hard in the hotel pool. He was actually a Montgomery. He was the son of the enemy. Oliver pulled his hand back. He pulled very hard. Alexander’s fingers were strong, but Oliver ripped his hand away. The skin on Oliver’s wrist burned red from the tight grip.

the captain informed Jaquie bluntly. Jacquie's heart stopped pounding; she got paralyzed and couldn't think of anything to say. She had no idea that her every move would be recorded on CCTV. "Captain Magnus, let me explain," she began, but the captain cut her off straight away. "I don't need your explanation on this; plainly you have done a wonderful job of getting another crew in danger," he informed her.

"Year: 1997. Mission: North territory conquest. Head of mission: A.M.T and Captain P. G." It couldn't be. Violet analyzed the paper again. A.M.T. were Arden's initials. He used to sign his documents using that. Violet knew because she saw him signing lots of papers during her life, even though she was never allowed to see what they were about. Did Arden kill Lance's parents, just to conquer some territory? Was that what those files were about? And P. G. should be Phillip, the head of the guards from the Diamond Pack. He had been Lance's captain for years.

He watched me for a long moment, those icy blue eyes studying my face like he was trying to figure me out. The silence stretched until it felt uncomfortable. Noah had stepped back into the kitchen, pretending he wasn’t listening, but I knew he could hear everything. “Alright,” Cole said finally. “There’s something I want you to look into. I have a feeling Damien Holt, that captain from Ridgeview, has a secret relationship with Marcus Vale.” I frowned. “Who’s Marcus Vale?”

"Right here, real as it gets." She scoffed. "Comforting yourself with maternal clichés now? Next you’ll say you’re glowing." The bartender, a lanky kid with nervous eyes, hovered nearby. He set down my second mojito and cleared his throat. "Ladies, maybe we keep it, um, less personal?" "Zip it, Captain America," I commented taking a quick glance at him and then, back at Nora. "Thanks, but I haven’t even started." I turned my gaze icy. "You think you can waltz in here and dismantle me with rumors? Guess again."

Every movement Elliot made triggered another layer of protection. This wasn’t amateur work. A new message appeared. YOU DON’T BELONG THERE. Elliot paused. Excuse me? The text continued. BLACKWOOD OWNS YOU NOW. Elliot felt irritation rising. I work here. A short pause. Then— YOU’RE TRAPPED. Elliot glanced briefly around the room. Engineers worked normally. No one seemed to notice anything unusual. Still, his pulse had quickened slightly. Another message appeared. WE CAN HELP YOU. Elliot frowned.

Didn’t hear if I was scared, hurt, or furious. I stared at their retreating figures, Yvonne’s delicate frame leaning against his side, as they vanished beyond the station doors. Unwilling to accept it. A low chuckle snapped me out of my daze. "See?" The officer smirked, tapping his pen against the desk. "Told you he wouldn’t pick you." I froze, unable to refute. My wolf, usually calm, let out a low growl inside me. But when Alpha Jackson pursued me, he promised—he promised he would love me wholeheartedly.

He just watched me, like he could see through the bullshit, but wasn’t ready to call me on it. Finally, he said, “The inmates who sparked the fight were detained. Ice Cell. Seven days. That’ll buy you a little breathing room.” I smirked faintly, though it tugged at the stitches in my side. “Detained? That’s a pretty word for frozen alive in a box.” “Call it what you want,” Tommy replied evenly. “It keeps them from finishing the job.” For a second, the room was quiet. Just the beep of some monitor tracking my vitals, the scratch of Anaba’s pen against her clipboard. My body ached like hell, but my mind? My mind was a firestorm of rage and restlessness.

If this was death. “Shit,” I rasped, lips cracking around the word. “If this is heaven, then somebody screwed up my reservation.” A laugh cut through the darkness, “Trust me, Capone. Heaven doesn’t take men like you.” My eyes blinked open, adjusting to dim light. And there he was. Remo Lombardi. Leaning against a steel table. “Fuck,” I muttered, head lolling against the restraints that bit into my skin, “Of course it’s you. Hell couldn’t handle me, so they gave me you instead.”

The commander ordered the captain to take Martinez and his son away. The Captain walked towards Martinez and hit him on his head with the back of his gun. "Let's go stupid… you're not bailing yourself out of jail this time." The Captain assured. Danvers family? Both Martinez and his son were shocked even more. Now they knew they had probably messed up. They wanted to apologize to Liam, but it was already too late, both father and son were being dragged to the S.W.A.T car. The commander walked towards Liam and greeted him. "Hi, it's an honor to meet you Mr. Danvers, I'm Zack Dawson." The commander introduced himself.