Jonas Taylor Novels & Stories

Riley Adams 19 years old A sophomore at Michigan university in the Business administration and management Program. Same college and program as Jonas. This is a delightful surprise. “Do you know this girl?” I ask Jonas and he peeks, then laughs. “Oh yes… She is a dick tease.” “I want you to do something, Jonas.” “What?” “Put in some effort and get into her pants.” He chuckles. “Okay… I can try. But why?” I pick up a photograph of the three of them having lunch and laughing together.

But Jonas is indifferent and aloof, he knew from the start that Tyler set Aubrey up to make her the bad person and ruin her life but he didn't meddle and just watched. Jonas is the type of person who observes others' personalities and behavior in a secretive way. He may look like he doesn't care but he's studying what kind of person the others are. Despite knowing Tyler's scheme he still sticks with him as his closest aide. He saw something in Tyler that motivates him and encourages him to do better. Tyler was his mortal enemy, he was always behind him and no matter what he does he couldn't get past Tyler. They were classmates when they were in middle school. Jonas was the pride of their fam

"Jonas, do you really think she'll be alright? Nora, I mean." Jonas paused for a moment, his gaze meeting mine with unwavering conviction. "She's a fighter, Alpha Chester. She's strong, and she'll fight through this. We have to believe that." His reassurance offered a glimmer of hope amid the despair. I nodded at him. "Thank you for everything, Jonas." He nodded. "Alright, Alpha." I watched as Jonas approached the door, when he abruptly halted in his tracks. His sudden pause caught my attention, and I looked up from the letters in my hand, concern etched across my features.

Conversation along one side of the bay softened almost at once. “Mr. Taylor’s here,” someone said behind her. Another voice answered, more surprised, “Here?” Serena’s hand stilled on the tablet before she looked toward the entrance. Damian had just walked onto the development floor. He wore a dark suit that looked entirely out of place among diagnostic equipment, tire carts and technicians in work clothes, yet somehow the room adjusted itself around him rather than the other way around. A Street Nation executive walked beside him, speaking quietly, while Miles Gibson had suddenly discovered a level of posture Serena hadn’t known he possessed.

“I couldn’t accompany you to the end, and that was my regret in this life, but the years I spent with you were the happiest, and my life is, in a sense, complete. Tanner, be happy.” The recording was very clear. It pierced Tanner’s ears. But in the end, Jonas couldn’t say a single word. She had been with him every day, yet she didn’t know when he had made the recording. “This is real.”

Jonas said hitting his foot on one of the stones on the floor. “That's why I'm here to help.” I saw Lira show up from the distance. “You came fast.” I noted. “No,I was just around the corner.” “You? Again?” Jonas planted himself right in front of her. “Do you want us to do this or what?” Elyan shot at him. Jonas stepped back holding his hand in surrender. “Only for Duncan's sake.” He used that as an excuse to slip away. I only frowned at his disgusting habit and turned to Lira. “Lead the way.”

He looked directly into the shadows, his eyes locked with Jonah's, viewing the white, tension-lined face he loved more than anything else in the world. "The foundation that I am establishing, the future that I am selecting… it is not my own." He swallowed, the sound passing through the microphone. This was the final border, the final wall to be destroyed. "It is ours.". He took a deep, steadying breath, as if about to dive into the furthest reaches of his existence. "His name," Clarkson announced, his voice ringing out, clear and proud and unhazarded, "is Jonah Jones." The name hung in the air, simple and towering.

Taylor’s eyes widened in recognition. “And what is happening here?” Will asked, stepping up to the group. Taylor let out a small gasp of surprise. “I know who you are. You are Williams Jones, son of Mr. Lazarus Jones.” She quickly extended her hand. “Taylor McCarthy. I’m a huge fan.” Will shook her hand with a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Taylor McCarthy.” Taylor shook her head, showing her fingers, laughing nervously. “Not married yet. Still a Miss.”

Firewood, books, a kettle whistling softly. The man poured tea. No questions. Just silence. Finally, Elijah spoke. “What’s your name?” The man gave a small smile. “Jonas.” Elijah repeated it softly. “Jonas…” “You stayed here,” Jonas said. “With me. For seven months.” Elijah’s breath caught. “Seven months?” Jonas nodded. “You came out of the woods. Bleeding. Barely breathing. Said you didn’t know who you were. I took you in.” “Why?”

Three times. Slow down. Easy. The same knock as at the door in my heart. My whole body solidified. The sunlight in the nursery was warm, soft, almost peaceful — and exactly That's why the sound seemed even more wrong. Jonas stood at the window, the pen in his hand. But he didn't paint anymore. His little back was tight. And his voice, too deep for a child, suddenly sounded normal again. Almost. “Mama... don’t get up.”