Colten Gunn Novels & Stories

He stepped back from Colt, gun still pointed at him. I couldn’t believe Otis was eviler than I thought he was. For sure, he had nothing humane left in him. “Now let me tell you about Colt.” “I swear—” Colt was cut off. “His twin brother, Colton Rebel. Do you know how he died?” I gasped in shock. Twin brother? Colt launched himself to Otis, but he halted when Otis pointed the gun right to his forehead. “I will fucking kill you!” Colt gritted with rage, vibrated with the urge to revenge his brother—his twin brother.

Colton crouched beside him, gun angled outward, keeping watch. Julian stood apart. Not idle, never idle, but still in a way no soldier should be. His long fingers traced the line of the detonator pack he wore across his chest—something meant for the satellite’s power relay, but altered, tuned, sharpened for something more final. His mouth was dry, and yet he smiled faintly as if in conversation with someone unseen. Above, the drones descended like black rain. Rhett cursed under his breath, tossing a charge into Colton’s hand.

“Fine. You want in, you’re in.” They went to the armory room in the back of the club. Metal shelves lined with firearms, ammunition, and knives gleamed in the low light. Amy’s fingers skimmed along the collection before she pulled down a polished Colt 1911 and a snub-nosed revolver. Isadora grinned and took her favorites — a black Beretta M1951 and a sawed-off shotgun with a worn leather strap. “You ever notice,” Isadora said as she checked the Beretta’s magazine, “that people like us never really retire?”

I turned slowly. He stood at the threshold - Colton, one of Damien’s most trusted security men. Always polite. Always quiet. But today, his eyes were flat, devoid of the usual warmth. And in his gloved hands was a silenced pistol. “Don’t scream,” he said calmly. I didn’t. I rose to my feet slowly, every muscle in my body coiled tight. “You don’t have to do this.” “You don’t know what I have to do,” Colton replied. “You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to stay gone.”

- "I didn't intend for you to know, but things can get more violent. And if that's the case, you need to be prepared." The redhead's eyes swept the entire length of the room, where only Colton was. He was loading his revolver, pulling the trigger and aiming. Never shooting. Soon after, he removed the ammunition and repeated the process. - "Colton," Spencer called, and got the man's attention. - "Yes, sir." Colton left the gun on a bench and walked closer to the pair at the door. He wore a military uniform, and his toned body filled out the outfit admirably. The agent glanced at Blair, not exactly approving of the redhead's presence, then looked away to the inspector.

Amidst the smoke and smell of gunpowder, Colton was unperturbed as he approached the door. The men surrounding him were protecting him closely, not allowing any single bullet to stray toward him. If one of them were shot, another person would take that position. No matter how many went down from this reckless approach, they did not stop. Colton just continued walking, dispassionate and uninterested in how many people were lost on both sides. His expressionless face and cold aura freaked out the only person standing who was guarding the door. He pointed his gun at Colton but when he pulled the trigger, only the sound of an empty magazine responded to him.

DELUCA I stepped into the place, finding a tied up Colton by the door side, with another drinking male seated on a rocking chair. Already looking too far gone to notice us. I sighed with annoyance and gave a signal and Henry walked up to the guy who scrambled to get up but Henry gave him a soft push that had him stumbling back down and my eyes narrowed as I gave a short glance between a grinning Lucas and a smirking Henry. Fuckers. I aimed a gun at Colton whose eyes widened with fear and his mouth opened in a silent scream as I fired the gun thrice in quick succession.

Everyone was so shocked by the news that they instantly started to discuss it with each other. Trevyn got all worked up as he stood on the stage. He was in utter disbelief, and his eyes were filled with fear and shock. Then, he looked at Kolten with a frown and a ferocious expression, pointed his gun at him, and shouted, "Kolten, what did you say? Say that again!" Kolten was as calm as ever as he stood in place offstage. The soldiers next to him immediately raised their ballistic shields and put them in front of Kolten to protect him.

I punch him in the arm and, being the nice guy that he is, pretends that I actually hurt him. Daniel Jay McCowan's lean body stand about five foot ten; his tendons frequently stretching over his muscles. He was our high school's running back, probably would have gone to college on scholarship had he not injured his shoulder senior year. His dusty brown hair always tends to flop in front of his face when he moves, and his green eyes have always had a glint of mischief in them. All that, combined with Audrey's fiery personality and my willingness to go along with all their schemes, and we were always getting ourselves into trouble.

But when we arrived, only our mother was there waiting. “Oh, thank Goddess!” She cried, “One of you please tell me what’s going on!” “Mom, where’s Colton?” Cary’s panic was plain in his voice. “He’s in surgery. They said he was shot with a silver bullet. He’d lost so much blood already and his wolf couldn’t heal. Why would someone shoot him?” She sobbed. “Fuck! There was so much blood and we were so worried about Mallory/ I didn’t smell the silver.” Guilt threatened to overwhelm me.