Hayes Grier Novels & Stories

The rough friction of his skin against my bare leg sent a violent shockwave of liquid heat straight to my core, making my breath hitch sharply. "My territory is secure," Hayes growled out loud, his voice dropping into a register so deep it made the silverware on the table hum. He didn't look down at me, his face a stone-cold mask of pure lethality as he stared Raymond down. "And my wife’s status is not a topic for a pack that hasn't managed to secure its own southern ridges in three decades." Raymond’s jaw tightened, his eyes flaring yellow at the blatant insult. "Hayes—"

I knew the law, and I knew how to use it to protect myself. Hayes Group's stock plummeted. In just a few days, the company lost tens of billions in market value. Longtime business partners pulled their investments, and competitors seized the opportunity to strike. I visited Hunter once at the detention center. He wore a prison uniform, his hair cropped short, looking exhausted and haggard. He stared at me through the glass, his eyes bloodshot. "Rose… I was wrong." Those were the first words he said to me. I looked at him. "What exactly were you wrong about?"

her father said, looking at the certificate to see the name. "My husband, obviously." Mr. Reid ran his hands through his hair, frustration etched across his face. "You married a complete stranger?" He picked up the marriage certificate and read it again. "Adrian Hayes…" He looked at her. "Who is he? Some nobody?” Mr. Reid searched his memory, but the name meant nothing to him. If Adrian Hayes belonged to any influential family, he would have recognized it immediately. Instead, all he saw was an unfamiliar surname attached to the man who had ruined months of careful planning.

Grier by the shirt and shook him to his senses. Mr. Grier walked off his aggression. He was old enough to know you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar. It was because he hadn’t been around a willing woman in some time and his old boyish habits resurfaced. He stared at Cady being plowed by Mr. Nelson. He had her off the desk now bent over as her tits brushed the cool dark cherry veneer of the heavy desk with every thrust.

"Mr. Hayes, does this count as a draw?" Hayes let out a sinister chuckle, toying with a dagger in his hands. At twenty, he was the oldest in the group, but far from the sunny and cheerful disposition one might expect of someone his age. Everyone knew Hayes was unpredictable, dark, and cold-hearted – no one dared to provoke him.

The next day, I saw Mr. Hayes again. He introduced himself properly this time—his name was Alexander Hayes. His son, Noah Hayes, was in good spirits today. I knelt on the mat and continued his stretching exercises. As I leaned forward, the lapels of my white coat fell open. The sweat-soaked sports vest beneath clung to my chest like a second skin, the fabric so thin you could make out the contours of my areolas. "Relax. That's it. Easy does it..."

I put on my gym clothes and grab my gym bag before heading back to the lobby. I own a small bike that I use to get around locally. I got on my bike and once I arrived at my gym, the lobby had a man behind the counter that I have never seen before. I locked my bike and walked into the lobby. "Where is Pak?" I asked and the man looked up before he said, "Welcome! Oh, Pak? Yes. He no longer works here. This morning he fell asleep and dropped a cigarette on the wrestling mats. It caused a small fire that caused him to lose his job."

I threw Fauna a glare. “Why you did not tell me that he was back in town?” I hissed at her. She shrugged before I rolled my eyes and I was heading toward his office again. “I look forward to knowing that the article was done. Yes, thank you. Talk to you soon,” Hayes said before I knocked on his door. He ushered me in before I stood in front of his table. I think this guy was a hot mess. Papers were everywhere and I have the urge to clean his table.

Griffin looked out over the ground, now riddled with bodies. Among them, one straggler still twitched. Just a head left, hacked clean off, dragging a length of torn, bloody tissue as it struggled weakly through the pile. It let out a broken growl, jaws snapping toward the doorway. Thud! Griffin kicked it out of sight. "We're clear." Hayley gave a small nod and stepped forward, moving through the field of corpses. As she passed, her eyes landed on a skeleton that had been picked completely clean.

"Let's go." We leave the hospital and Trish gives us directions to a hideout where the C-4 is supposedly hidden. In the back of my mind, I can't help but wonder if this is a trap. "How did you manage that?" Connor asks, voice full of awe. "Yeah, you two just pulled off a bloody miracle," Rylan states. "I think a couple of things have changed his outlook. At least a little," Trish says. "One, he almost died. When I was talking to my mom last week, she said he mentioned Griffin and started asking questions."