Chris Janson Novels & Stories

127| I Think I Am Doomed! JULIE There are files, pens and papers scattered over the huge brown desk on which glass has been put. There is silence around me. Mr Winter stretches his hand across the desk and grabs a specs case and his speed is very slow. Yeah, he is old. How much we can expect from him? Even in his late fifties, he works like a late seventies. Not his fault. I do not blame him. Right now, I am just thinking about my situation.

He rambles in anger. "Chris, take a chill pill. She's not worth getting yourself worked up. Who cares if she's lied to everyone about what happened? Forget about her bro. Karma will pay her a visit at the right time, dude." Jason pats him twice on his back as Chris runs a hand through his hair out of frustration. He takes a deep breath and leans on his car. Jason does too. "Where's your jacket?" Chris hesitates before answering. "It's with her." Jason doesn't need rocket science to know who he's referring to.

You deserve it, dude," Chris said, What the heck!!! Lewis screamed at him. Chris just sat down not listening to him anymore by putting on his headset, he isn't the type who likes it when someone doesn't accept he or she is wrong. So I think the conversation is over. "Hmmm guys I need to Io skype with Jina," I said happily

Katerina: “Hello?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I answered whoever was calling. Nathan, who was asleep by my side, opened his eyes, frowning in confusion at who was calling this early in the morning. “Hello, is this Mrs. Katerina Kozlov?” A man asked. “Yes, it’s me” I said, sitting up. Nathan sat up, shaking his head in confusion before a smile replaced his forming frown. “I am Professor Jasper from…”

Noah said and looked back at the phone. He then showed June another picture of a man who was smirking at the camera, the man looked exactly like Chris but he was not muscular. He was lean and tall, he was wearing a white tank top. His left biceps was overed with tattoos of dark roses which reached to the nape of his neck. "He's Jason.Chris and him are twins. But Jason isn't interested in the company, he has a band." June nodded his head in understanding. The pervious owner of the body had no information about Noah, "So you got the company?"

He teased as she laughed. “No. I’m just saying maybe it’s up to Damien to decide whether our father is an asshole or not. I’m sure he would learn early on, but who knows, maybe Dan will do things differently with him since he missed nineteen years.” Jason couldn’t argue with that. He took another sip of his drink as he looked up to see Chris Sanders walking up in his button-down shirt and some slacks. His hair was freshly tapered and his greys were starting to show through his beard. He gave them a kind smile as Janet and Jason looked at each other. Tension amped in the room as they stood to greet him very respectfully with great manners. Jason shook his hand, squeezing strong as he did so.

I nodded my head in understanding. Jason stepped forward. “Neil, Mark, and I have had a lot of interactions with the Delta. From what I can tell, he is one of the saner ones in this pack, although that is relative to those around him.” Jason shrugged, which looked strange coming from the large head warrior. Jason was huge – taller than my 6’1” frame by at least four inches and was a wall of muscles. As an Alpha and Guardian wolf, I was stronger and faster than others, and while I knew that I could take Jason, most others, including other Alphas, could not.

A deep voice husked and her eyes shot straight to meet with jade green ones and she tensed up. The guy was now facing her as he lazily leaned against the slab. She was taken off-guard by his looks. He appears to be a complete replica of Rasmus. His height and build were the same, massive, and impressive as Rasmus, but this guy has jade green eyes, so cold and cruel. There was a tribal tattoo starting from the left of his neck and disappearing into his grey T which aligned with his muscular body like a second skin, she noticed the words tattooed on the knuckles of his left hand.

All the rage and frustration I'd swallowed down, all the fear from last night came spilling out of me like a tsunami. "You pompous, self-important, grandiose prick," I spat, squaring my shoulders. "You look down at everyone from your ivory tower and talk about the Zoe you used to know but what about the Greyson I used to know, the shy, sweet, geeky kid with the too-big glasses who I kinda had a crush on? That Greyson would be ashamed of this Greyson. This Greyson is the thing that Greyson hated the most. A bully." "I'm not a bully, Miss Smithson, I'm a businessman," Greyson said calmly, "now please leave before I call security.

He places his hand inside his left jacket, taking out his reading glasses and placing them back on his face. He makes his way inside the building towards his dorm. At the entrance to his stairway awaits his childhood friend Brandon. A young boy who is the total opposite of his. Brandon is known by most people. He's popular and outgoing. Dark brown hair and toned fair-skinned, with a sculpted body he likes to show off. Although Russell is in better shape than he is, and could probably kick his ass in an instant. But no one knows of Russell's hidden talent and a favorite hobby of illegal underground cage fighting.