Connor Stoll Novels & Stories

It couldn’t have been on purpose… right? “So how’s the wrist?” Davis asks, scooching over and patting the spot beside him on his bunk. We’re all getting ready for bed after a long day of training, which I missed half of due to my injury. Boyd’s bunk is across from mine and Davis’, and Connor has the bottom. We got to know Connor a little better at the bar on Saturday and it turns out he’s a really nice guy. He’s from Reid’s pack in Stillwater. Connor’s sitting on the edge of his bunk, facing us, and leans forward a little to watch as I sink down next to Davis and extend my wrist forward, twisting it around.

If anything, this strengthens my resolve to push back against the Mitchells and whoever else might be behind this smear campaign. One thing stands out to me as I read further into the article—Connor. His name is mentioned, not just as a casualty in the crash, but specifically as my bodyguard. That detail is strange, and it bothers me. Connor’s role was something we kept quiet, especially since he was only recently hired and supposedly working for an agency that doesn’t even exist anymore. The article paints him as part of the crew, yet somehow, his real identity is exposed.

Then Johnny said something else, and Connor pulled the cell away from his ear and hit a button for speakerphone. “Lily?” I smiled. “Hi, Johnny.” “You made him call me, didn’t you?” “Yes.” “Thank you. At least SOMEBODY’S brain is working right.” “Hey,” Connor warned. “Where’d you get the car?” “I called Frank D’Agostanzo.” “Who’s that?” I asked. “Owns an exotic car dealership in Beverly Hills,” Connor explained. “He gave me a loaner.” I looked around, stupefied. “This is a loaner?”

he growled. “Yeah, you’re not done yet, but there’s no point in lingering on them. Remember, we are not perverts or stalkers,” added Connor, who received a response in the form of small coughs and clear throat from around him because his words were the opposite of what they had been doing so far.

I rolled my eyes and shouted in his ear, "Her heart is perfectly fine!" Too bad he could not hear me. The doctor froze, seemingly perplexed by that, but replied, "Ms. Clark's heart didn't seem to be affected by the incident." A smile finally broke out over Connor's face. "Thank you, Dr. Wilson." He shook hands with the doctor and bade him goodbye. I followed Connor into the room. That was my first time scrutinizing Connor up close. He was a finance consultant and earned a fierce reputation as Hawk-Eye and a steady fanbase due to his astute predictions.

“It’s way better than prison food, that’s for sure.” Just then, a man approaches us. He has a black apron tied around his waist and when I pay close attention to his face, I realize that it’s Caden. How did he get here so fast? “Hello, ladies,” he says to us as he looks back and forth between the two of us. “New friend, Paola? Who’s she? I didn’t know we had a new member.” I look at her, confused, and she says, “Delaney, this is Connor, Caden’s brother.”

Enter Fuck Buddy #5, who was due to come over that night. With the last pile of laundry folded, I decide to slip into a brand-new set of lace underwear I had recently acquired. Just then, a knock at the door interrupts me. Through the window, I spot Connor. He's a straight-A student and the captain of the UP men's soccer team, a compact bundle of energy. "Hey, Connor."

"I saw you stand up to him on the sidewalk today, and I heard you insult his massive ego perfectly. You proved that you are completely done being his helpless victim, and that specific realization made you the absolute perfect candidate for the arrangement I urgently need." I chewed a small bite of the blueberry muffin, swallowed the sweet food, and wiped my mouth with a paper napkin. "I still do not understand what you could possibly need from me," I replied, tracing the rim of my mug with my index finger while I waited patiently for his full explanation. "As the captain of the hockey team, my entire life revolves entirely around my athletic performance and my academic grades," Connor state

He had sat alone in the room holding his head while figuring the way out of this mess. Just like the busy couple, Enzo had not noticed someone taking their phone out, clicking pictures of what was clearly Donavan Frantino and an unknown woman in his arms, kissing like it was their last day on earth.

Connor gives me a bewildered look and gazes back out the window in disbelief. “Who is Declan, Connor? Eddie Morano is a crazy asshole that everyone is scared of. How is it that this man comes along with a million-dollar car and kicks his ass without breaking a sweat? This is crazy.” I reply, holding my hands up in surrender. Connor shrugs his shoulders with a puzzled frown. “I asked him, but he wouldn’t answer. I mean, he had a military jacket in his file, which means he’s trained to kill people. Right?”