Finney Black Phone Novels & Stories

Feeling a dull ache in her wound, Teresa looked a bit pale, the smile on her face had long since been replaced with an immeasurably commanding and impatient expression. Sahara was waiting for Teresa to give Hilda a slap in the face, but she didn't expect to hear something else. "Miss Damien, the cell phone Miss Adams is using is not a knock off, but a genuine custom made model produced by the Jordan Group's cell phone division. Only a pair of them are available across the globe!" That was right, Hilda certainly wouldn't use a knock off cell phone. In reality, her cell phone was a customized Jordan Phone model made specially for her by Connie and Linux.

I was friends with the owner of the shop, but I was not me at the moment. Gillian, the buff dark skinned man sat behind the counter, shooting up when he caught sight of me. “Oh shit, Al—” he stopped himself from completing the word. “What can I help you with today, Henir?” He coughed out awkwardly. “I want to get a burner phone,” I informed him, keeping my voice and expression cool. “Of course,” he brought out a boxed phone and handed it to me. I scrutinized it and hummed, satisfied. “How much?” I asked, looking up at him.

A kid with blue hair and a nametag that read Tyler looked up from his phone. His eyes went wide, taking in my face, the scar on my jaw, and the fact that I looked like I had been spat straight out of Hell. "Can I... help you, sir?" he stammered, looking like he was about to crap his pants. "I need a phone," I said, my voice low and probably sounding like a threat. "Newest model. Best camera. Maximum storage." "Sure, sure. We have it in black, silver, and....."

I shifted the pages and saw a burner phone, the same one I use to communicate with my whisperer. “Why does he have a burner phone in the first place?” I dug my hands into my pocket, removing my own burner phone, and called the single number present inside. And after a few seconds, Blackthorn’s burner phone rang. What? My eyes opened wide in shock as the phone fell from my hands. “It’s him.” Blackthorn was the whisperer I have been communicating with all this while. But h-how? Has he been the one handling my investigation all this while?

I can't see it, but I swear he smirks at me, and not over the hurt neck. "You're phone's been going off." I reach to the side of me and pass the device to him as the screen glows again. This time an image of Trey takes up the entire display. "Yeah," Finn answers with sleep still in his voice. He's quiet for a few seconds listening as Trey speaks. Trey must be yelling because there are mumbled parts of his conversation coming from the phone. "I'll be right there." Finn ends the call. "Everything okay?" Obviously it isn't, but asking seems the polite action to take.

"Yes, ma'am? What do you need?" Alina remained facing the window, silhouette dark against the fading light. "I need you to get me a phone," she said quietly. "Not one registered to the Blackwood accounts. A prepaid phone. One that can't be traced." Mrs. Helen's breath caught. "Ma'am, I—" "I know it's a lot to ask." Alina's voice was calm. Too calm. "And I know it could cost you your job if anyone finds out. But I need a way to contact the outside world. And this is the only way."

"That lying fucking bitch. You know that I would never do that." "I know man. You protected Finley. We saw it happen. For the love of god please tell me that you have a good lawyer." "Yes. His number is in my phone." "I'm going to need a name. I have no clue where your phone is." "Steve Jones. Will you also call my dad?" He raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Wait, Finley, is she awake?" "Yes." "Good, give me your phone."

I’d spent the few hours between dropping my head onto my pillow and jumping off the bed at the first ring of my phone, staring at the Home Screen and then at the diamond on my finger that always seemed to catch my eye. For the past couple of minutes, my phone was relentless. It was buzzing continuously and for someone who had been all too eager to get the latest gossip, I was worried about what I might see. I mustered the courage and picked up the phone, now ablaze with notifications from my few remaining loyal employees, frantic lawyers, and, worst of all, scandal sheets. The screen was a horror show. BLACKWOOD VS. BLACKWOOD: BATTLE FOR THE BLACKWOOD EMPIRE BECOMES A FAMILY FEUD

My telephone rang and I quickly brought it up to my ear. "Secretary Carter of Black's corporation here, what can I do for you?" I asked in my professional voice. "Hi secretary Carter, is Dylan still in his office? He wasn't answering his phone calls." The voice said. I stood up immediately when I recognized whom the voice belongs to. "I'm sorry Mrs Black, forgive my manners." I said instantly. "Mr. Black is still inside his office." From what I knew, Dylan is Mrs Black's most prized treasure in this world. Mr Black died almost immediately after he was born and he was the only son. The only treasure the BLACKS had.

Zion frowned. "What have you done? I feel disgusted to even talk about it." Mr. Black rubbed his face before speaking, "You tried to rap a girl. I feel so ashamed. How can you forget with your IQ of 150+ that you have a wife? How can you be so low?" With that the colours on his face faded. That bitch made a complaint against him. She hasn't learnt her lesson yet. "Mom, give me Hannah's phone number." They heard him saying.