Lock Shock And Barrel Novels & Stories

As he spoke, he kept shaking the retractor in his hand. A few people immediately surrounded him. At this time, the camera in the live broadcast room gave a clear close-up. Sure enough, on that lock, there were really many grooves of different shapes. Some were like a nose, some were like teeth, and some were like eyes. Under the grooves were various mechanisms. Only by putting in the matching parts could one unlock the human body lock and finally open the door. “The judge can always find something new that we don’t know about!”

Of course, as an incubus, I loved everything about pretty much any woman. We pulled up to a warehouse in the 600s and pulled out a small bag containing our tools. The lock on the large door was a heavy bolted latch and key. On the smaller door, was a code lock. We didn’t want to make too much noise, so we used the unscrambler and hooked it into the key box.

I lunged across the open gap between the cars, stepping onto the metal coupling plate right over the roaring, spinning steel wheels below. The wind in the gap nearly ripped me off my feet. The dark ground below was a spinning blur of sharp crushed stone and iron ties. I jammed the flat edge of the pry bar straight into the rusted seam of the coupling pin lock. The suit saw me. He shifted his barrel, bringing the black lens of his scope straight up toward my chest. "Now!" I roared, throwing my entire body weight down on the iron bar. The rusted pin snapped in half. The heavy steel jaw of the coupling swung open with a loud, metallic bang.

Even if I have to burn this loom spinning us troubles and everyone wheeling it, I’m coming back. I turned the key. The engine roared to life, a predatory growl in the quiet parking lot. I shifted into gear and pulled away, leaving the my only true love behind, but carrying the prisoner's chains with me.

"If we kick the door, he shifts. We don't fight an Alpha in a confined space. We trap him." Walking out of the store, the men gathered near the tailgate of their rusted pickup truck. Silas pulled a heavy metal lockbox from the truck bed. Popping the latch, he revealed a terrifying assortment of specialized restraints. Thick, heavy iron collars laced with pure silver. Vials of concentrated wolf-bane liquid. A modified, heavy-duty pneumatic dart gun.

Jax wasn't thinking about technique anymore; he was thinking about erasing the embarrassment of missing a Null. He swung a massive backhand. It was sloppy. Telegraphed. I ducked under it. But this time, I didn't retreat. I stepped in. I pressed my back against his chest. Sliding inside his guard. I grabbed his outstretched arm—the one he had just swung—and clamped it between my shoulder and my ear. Barzil had taught me this lock yesterday. Fulcrum and lever. I grabbed his wrist with both hands. Pulled down while thrusting my hips back.

"I won't be going. The company wants me to liaise with one of our clients." The police officer didn't believe in Thomas' flimsy excuse. "You can return home once you're done giving your statement at the station. You can liaise with your client as long as you want after that." Thomas swallowed nervously. He swept his gaze over the living room and suddenly pointed at Oliver, who was crawling on the ground. "Look! Isn't Ollie holding the missing money?"

“Come see if you don’t believe me.” My legs took me towards him. They shook the whole time, and I hid my trembling hands around my waist. I stopped beside him and knew he was right before I bent down. I knew that the padlock he held in his hand was ours, the one we so lovingly carved our initials into. The one I painstakingly carved a deer’s print into so we’d always remember it was ours. So if we ever found it, we would know. It was unmistakable. A generic lock like so many others, yet so unique.

Conrad suggested and grabbed a vast rusted padlock. Garret and I stood behind Conrad, looking over his shoulder. Despite his werewolf strength, Conrad had difficulty breaking the lock. It seemed to resist him as if waiting for a worthy person to open it. "Maybe I'll try it?" Garrett volunteered after Conrad had been struggling with the lock for over twenty minutes. With undisguised shame, Conrad stepped aside, giving Garrett room to show off. He rolled up his sleeves and decided to crush the padlock instead of tearing it. However, this attempt also did not produce any results. He only managed to achieve more calluses on his already calloused hands.