Fireman Sam Arnold Novels & Stories

But before Egan could call him, he opened his eyes again. “For Pertrov’s plan, use me.” “What are you saying?” Egan asked, even as his heart twisted, as he watched life slip away from his best friend. “Use me.” Sam smiled, his teeth all bloodied. “The best gift I can give Prim is you.” Egan stared in disbelief. This could not be real. Sam had survived several near-death experiences. “Don’t call the ambulance.” Sam whispered, and then he closed his eyes forever. *** Egan watched with bloodshot eyes as Renzo was dragged into the room, bound hands and feet.

The one who had vanished into the professional circuits but had apparently never forgotten the guy in Lane 4. "I heard the Armani heir was trying to make a comeback," Dalton said, leaning against the truck. He looked at Samuel, his eyes sharp with a competitive fire that was entirely clean of Antonio’s poison. "I figured you’d need someone to remind you how to actually dive. Your form always was a little stiff, Sam." The silence on the porch was absolute for three heartbeats. Then, for the first time in all of Part 2—for the first time since he had woken up in a house that felt like a prison and realized his life was a lie—Samuel laughed.

"Carson, this here's Sam." Sam gave me a beaming smile and stuck out his hand. He was a big man. At least six foot three and like Bill, looked like he had worked hard all his life. He appeared to be about the same age as Bill. One other thing, he was African American. I shook his hand and could feel the strength in his grip. "Well, young man, lets hope you like it here. I could use the help," he said. I guess at twenty eight I was about half his age so he considered me to be young. "I plan to give it my best shot," I replied.

Arnold Comfrey smiled and said, "You should call me uncle just like Anabel, don't call me Mr. Arnold, it's weird. I know we are in the company but never the less I am still your uncle" After speaking to Arielle, when he turned his head to face Sam Holves again, his face immediately became a little stern and merciless, "Director Sam, you can talk about it, but it must be snappy, truthful, and nothing but the truth. Come on, tell us why there is so much going on in the factory without the knowledge of the higher-ups."

Now that he encountered Ash, he couldn't help but feel angry. "Fuck! I told you that she wasn't here!" Arnold angrily spat off, but Ash didn't believe him. "Where's Havoc?" Ash walked inside their house, making Arnold's temper explode. "Don't think that I won't kill you just because you are our benefactor," Arnold coldly said and stopped him. Ash looked at him in the eyes and sneered. "You should be glad that I didn't start killing on-spree. If you don't hand Samarah over, I'll kill you and your son together."

"Captain says get the hell out this minute." Apparently Sam either wasn't listening or was ignoring him because the man turned to his captain and shook his head. Misa could just visualize Sam, doing his job with that supreme confidence he wore like a second skin. Not taking chances but knowing how far he could push himself. Misa inched as close as she could to the scene, snapping pictures one after the other. Then a roar went up from the crowd. People pointed and she looked up. A fireman in full turnout gear had made it out of a third floor window and onto the extension ladder. One arm cradled a baby securely over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry, oh my God Aaron is so hot, oh my God did he just wink at me? wait did you see that? did you see it? did you??" Samantha is 22 years old... and she acts like a 9 year old sometimes. We headed for the stairs and that was the same time Amber decided to walk downstairs too. He had this white tight tank top on that brought out all his damn muscles and showed a good view of his tattoos and body...well I prefer last times view tho. He wore this baggy short that hung from his waist and his Calvin Klein waistband was in view. His eyes were glued to his phone and he walked past me without even looking at me or saying a word.