Eddie Noodleman Novels & Stories

“Not any kind of man, okay? Good looking men! And why do you care by the way? Don’t come and start acting like you’re my parent or something.” Eddy scoffed and raised his hands in the air. “Well, my bad. I’m not your parent. Have fun.” He uttered and headed right for the dining table. Noah clenched his jaws and before he could continue walking to Natasha’s room, Natasha was done and she also stepped out. “Hey, why are you standing there?” She asked without realizing that Eddy was in sight. “I was having an unpleasant conversation with my super annoying brother.” He answered, and this was when Natasha looked up. She saw Eddy sitting at the dining table. He seemed to concentrate on his food.

A few moments later, the man returned with a young man with a curt face, wearing a formal work uniform. "I leave you two here. I still have a lot to take care of," said the man again, before finally leaving him with the curt man. The crowd of cafe staff, who was standing some distance behind him, immediately dispersed voluntarily as soon as the curt man cast a sharp glare at them all. "Your name?" The man's curt tone intimidated Raymond a little. "Raymond. Raymond Cooper." "Oh." The man turned around, motioning for him to follow the man. "I'm Edward Groningen, but you can call me Edward."

"He'll know by tonight that Reeves is dead and the drive is in play. He'll move fast." She walked out of the diner without looking back. Cole sat with the drive in his palm and stared at the table. I sat across from him. Waited. "My team," he said finally. "Martinez. Cho. Reeves." He stopped. "Not Dana Reeves. Different Reeves. Eddie Reeves. Twenty-six years old. Had a kid he'd never met yet." He set the drive flat on the table. "I went to his wife after. Told her he died well. Told

Something… familiar. “You must be Nathan,” he said softly, taking a step closer to us. “And you are?” Nathan responded, his eyes narrowing slightly, his stance defensive but intrigued at the same time. The man extended his hand, that strange smile still playing on his lips almost as if he were enjoying a private joke at our expense. “My name is Edward,” he said, pausing, almost as if he were pausing for some sort of effect. “I’m your long-lost uncle.”

“What’s your name, sir?” “Edward,” the man replied with a slight bow. “And I promise you won’t regret this.” I hoped we wouldn’t. … As the moment for the performance approached, my nerves were strung too tight to even speak. I stood beside Noah at the forefront of the crowd, my heart pounding in my chest as we waited for the old man, Edward, to hobble out on stage. And, Goddess, he was slow. Not that it was his fault, but… still.

Looking at my watch, there was still another forty-five minutes until we traded off in the kitchen. Liam opened the door five minutes later, hand-in-hand with a tall man. He had short blond hair and his eyes were an electric blue. He was very handsome, and I held out my hand. Smiling, he took my hand. “Alpha Desmond, it’s good to finally meet you.” “Dillard Young, it’s lovely to meet you as well. I told my son he should have brought you over sooner.” Liam cleared his throat. “Dad, come on.”

When I got to his shop—a hole-in-the-wall sandwiched between a pawn store and a closed-down bakery—Eddie was already waiting behind the counter, disassembling a security camera with the patience of a surgeon. Eddie was the type of guy who blended into the background—unremarkable, if you weren't paying attention. He had the sharp eyes of someone who saw more than he let on, and the quiet patience of a man who'd spent too many years in the shadows. His hair was unkempt, dark and slightly greasy, as though he hadn’t bothered with it in days. He wore a faded leather jacket, the kind that had seen better days, with scuff marks on the sleeves and fraying at the edges. There was something about his

This was his world, and tonight it felt colder than ever. He limped away from Kalu’s worried gaze, slipping quietly between containers until he reached a faded corner where old dock laborers gathered. Most of these men had been working here for decades, their skin weathered by salt and sun, their eyes sharp with secrets. One figure caught his attention—a large, burly man named Jonah. Eddie had heard whispers about him—Jonah once worked closely with Cassiel before disappearing from the syndicate’s radar. Eddie approached cautiously. “Jonah.”

That’s who she was. His best friend. At least… she used to be. Today marked the first day of senior year at Woodstock High, and while Eddy should have been excited, something felt missing. Without her, it wasn’t the same. Eddy, short for Edward Loraine, was seventeen, the quarterback of the Woodstock High football team. Popular. Handsome. Known as a ‘player’ simply because he flirted too much. Girls adored him. Boys wanted to be him. His grades were good, which only added to his charm.

These shots made the phone pics look tame—full-on bedroom stuff. Sophia set them down, lifting her tea for a measured sip, tone dripping sarcasm. "Mr. Sullivan, your hobbies are something else. Snooping on folks in the sack now?" Edgar's eyes narrowed a fraction—clearly not the freak-out he'd banked on. "Quality's beside the point." He drawled it casual. "Key fact: this guy's no dad of yours." "Name's Todd Ward. Pro con man, plays whatever role pays. Laundry list of aliases."