Dc Young Fly Dad Novels & Stories

Dylan replied with a smile lingering on his lips. "Tell the kids I'll miss them too." Dylan gave me a deep kiss goodbye when we reached the doorway. He had an early flight so we chose not to wake the kids. "Have a safe trip. Call me after landing." I said. After watching my love away, I went to get the kids up for breakfast. “Mommy, are we going to call Uncle Dylan Dad soon?” Cazz, my daughter suddenly asked at the table. "I don't want to call him that. What if we meet our real father one day?" Laz, my son said with a frown.

Kids screamed near the swings, a dog barked, an old man read a paper like the world wasn’t burning. His phone buzzed. One word, from Lily: When? He exhaled, shaky. Typed: Tonight. Seven. At your dad’s. Hit send before he could think better of it. Seconds later, another buzz. Damian this time: Understood. No argument. No evasion. Just acceptance. Like they all knew the center couldn’t hold much longer. He leaned back, stared up through the canopy of leaves at a sky that couldn’t decide if it wanted to clear or storm. The air carried that charged, heavy smell that always came before rain. Fitting.

The dad is not Ronan. "Juicy. Keep me posted."

“Dad and I are in the middle of discussing business.” “Are you serious right now?” I spat at him. “I didn’t fly all the way back to this shit hole to have a casual chat with you about how the Yankees are doing this season. What I need to discuss with Dad is business too, like how the fuck we’re going to remove you from having any kind of power to make decisions in this company.” “Hold on a second, Blake,” my dad said, standing up to plant himself between Danny and I. “I’m assuming you are talking about the email. It was just a proposal.”

They just wanted him to come out. And he had foolishly fallen for it. "So?" He asked them again. "Here, this came in for you and it had Levon written on it." Draya handed him a clean white envelope which Dylon took eagerly and shut his door right in their faces yet again. "And take a shower, you reek of sadness and depression and death and ow ow ow…" Dylon couldn't help but laugh at that, he knew his Dad was probably pulling the girl down the hall by her ears.

Start Flashback Dylan was running inside the forest when he heard someone calling him from back. Dylan felt the voice was familiar. Very familiar. Dylan turned quickly and saw his mom, his dad were standing there, smiling at him. "Mom, dad" Dylan whispered happily. "We are so proud of you, my boy. We are so proud, you honey. You made me so happy. We can now rest in peace thinking this that the kingdom is on a faithful hand. On your hand" Dylan's dad said and smiled at him. "But I am scared dad. The responsibility is too big for me. I am scared that someday I will fail on them. Their hopeful eyes made me scared" Dylan replied. Sadness was all over his face.

My dad smiles at me and says, “I thought you'd never ask. Give Crimson control for now, and I’ll shift into my dragon. Let’s fly.” I give Crimson control, and she takes flight. Shortly thereafter, my dad joins us in the air. After the 2 dragons have their chance to fly, my dad asks me through the mind-link, if I'd like to give it a go. He goes over some basics with me like banking, and not flapping my wings too much. To just glide for the most part, and only flap when I need more lift, and to never take my eyes off what is in front of me.

After Liberty went on a business trip, Duncan clearly told Sonny that in the future, when he missed his mother, he could take Duncan’s private plane and fly to where she was on a business trip to see her. At that time, he thought Duncan was a really good man, even better than his father. Every time his dad saw him, even though he treated him well, he liked to speak ill of Dunc in front of Sonny, making Sonny feel that his dad was not that great. Dunc was not a bad person. Dad, Granddad, Grandmom, and Aunt all think he was just a three-year-old who did not understand anything, but actually, he understood everything.

Hot tears slipped free. Mom smoothed my hair. "It's okay, baby. You can cry—holding it in only makes it worse." "I don't want to," I lied, and a sob escaped anyway. Dad held me tighter and let me cry without questions, his silence a kind of shelter. Still, a thought flickered through me — if Ryatt ever crossed him, even in a nightmare, he'd be dead meat. *** It was weird that I still liked watching Cinderella. Even weirder that Dad still enjoyed it with me.