Dally Curtis Novelas e Histórias

He opened the door. “Come on in, man. How you doing?” “Good.” Curtis ambled in all deceptively casual, his blue eyes taking in everything in mere seconds. Now that Gabi knew he had a military background, she wondered how the hell she’d ever missed the man’s keen intelligence and observation skills before now. Curtis, Dillon, Alex and Wes all looked like they were ready for anything all the time, and she wondered what kind of training had made them like that. “Hey, hon.” Curtis’ voice was its usual gravel. “You doing OK?”

It was late, but they were still serving sandwiches and soup. I ordered a grilled cheese and tomato soup. It is comfort food for people who still believed comfort existed. While I waited, I scrolled through my phone. Mistake number one. Azrael’s name was everywhere. “AZRAEL DE LUCA : DEAD IN PLANE CRASH WHILE FLEEING FEDERAL INVESTIGATION.” I felt the air leave my lungs.

Curtis sat upright on the hospital bed, his back supported by several pillows. Though his complexion had improved significantly compared to a few days ago, traces of weakness still lingered around him. The white hospital blanket covered the lower half of his body while a file rested in his hands. His attention appeared completely fixed on the document. Standing respectfully beside the bed was a young man dressed in a neatly tailored black suit. Harrison Drake. Curtis's assistant. He stood with both hands clasped before him, maintaining the professional posture he always carried whenever he was around his boss.

“Someone has been extremely curious about all the wedding crap going on around here.” “Oh, yeah?” Knox drawled, running a hand over his shaved head. “Tank?” “Nope,” Val said. “Guess again.” “Well, maybe Dallas,” King said. “He was married last year – maybe he’s offering pointers?” “Nope again.” Val paused. “Curtis.” “Say what?” King said. “Curtis?” “Yep.” Now Tank was in on it. “The man is interested, I swear it. Asks a million questions about engagement rings and shit like that every time he passes the room where the women are sitting and planning.”