Captain Phillips Novels & Stories

Suspicion rolled off him in waves. “You didn’t tell me you made new friends,” Asher said, finally glancing at me with a blank look. I folded my arms. “We just met. Like… fifteen minutes ago. And he seems nice,” I added pointedly. Mr captain smiled slightly at that and I threw him a smirk. Asher hummed. “That’s what they all look like in the first fifteen minutes.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re dramatic.” Mr captain laughed softly, moisturising his lower lips with his tongue. “It’s fine. I get it.”

“You were in that junior year. You know if a video like that really existed?” Marcus met the question without heat. “A lot of things existed that year. Not all of them stayed.” He left it there and stepped back onto the ice when the whistle blew. No visible reaction beyond the fact that he had absorbed every piece of the rumor and filed it away. From the stands and from the bench, the lack of response landed harder than an accusation would have. Marcus was interested. He was simply refusing to show how much. Coach’s whistle cut through the drill sharper than usual. “Everyone in. Now.”

Thorne. Captain of the team that now owned my contract. The man whose championship trophy I'd stolen with a last-second, impossible goal three months ago. He looked even bigger up close, a mountain of muscle and simmering rage barely contained in a Vipers t-shirt and track pants. His ice-blue eyes locked onto mine, and the air grew thick, heavy with the promise of violence. "Valdez," he said, his voice a low growl that vibrated through the floor. "Welcome to hell."

I’ve done my best. ‘Hey, don’t close your eye.’ The officer dropped his head, and died. Prince Philip was angry and mad. The war was getting worse. The pirates are roaring, though there was great lose on their side. Captain Taylor ran to one of the guns, pushed the dead officer on it aside, and aimed the engine side of the pirate ship, and shot at it. There was a great blast. The ship was badly damaged, and gave out a wrecking sound. There was fire everywhere.

Elijah chided, though there was more affection than anger in his tone. He held her tight, as if afraid she might slip away from him. "You're going to live. We still have a lifetime together." Such sweet words. Unfortunately, they weren't meant for me. I doubted I was included in the future he spoke of. Just then, an urgent voice crackled through the boat's radio. "Captain Jensen, come in! This is Staff Captain Oscar Baker. We've completed the headcount, but one person is missing. We're turning back to look for them."

I was ready to open the door when it was opened from the inside by Lia, "There you are, Lia. I've been searching for you. Is there a problem, please? What went wrong?" "What's the name of the Team Captain on the other team again?" she inquired. I was taken aback by what she was asking, but I still responded, "Phillip Garcia. Why? Is he causing you any problems?" She sighed and said, "Is there anything that resembles Phillip? Do you think he looks like someone you know?" I pondered it at the time. I felt he seemed familiar, but I couldn't come up with anything, "He has some striking similarities, but don't be suspenseful. Just get to the point. What exactly is it?"

He wasn't looking at me, but there was a faint, ugly smirk on his face that hadn't been there ten minutes ago. He had seen the note. Or maybe he’d seen the person who put it there. I shoved the shard into my pocket, my skin crawling. I needed to get out of here. I needed to be alone. I hurried to the parking lot, my head down, ignoring the few fans waiting by the gates. I climbed into my car and locked the doors, leaning my head against the steering wheel. My phone buzzed in the cup holder. Unknown Number: Meet me at the old pier in thirty minutes. Don't be late, Captain.

He chuckles, the sound low and rough. Everett Griffin stands at least six-foot-three, broad-shouldered, with the lean, sculpted build of someone who's spent years on a volleyball court. Dark hair falls carelessly over sharp brows, framing a face that's unfairly handsome. The kind of face that makes girls lose their minds. Which is honestly a waste. Because his personality is absolute trash. Everett is the captain of Gladdis' men's volleyball team, and annoyingly, he's incredible. His spikes are brutal, his reflexes ridiculous—I've watched the men's championships once or twice—and everyone treats him like some volleyball god.