Mikey Rottmnt Novels & Stories

I was wrong. “Yes, but–” I was cut off when Ricco gave Nikolas a machete. No. “You may think the interaction was harmless and maybe it was. Baby, Carlo knew what he was getting himself into when he touched you like you were his bitch. Now he’s crying like a figo.” (figo - pussy)

Dominic's POV "That's it, you're almost there. You're doing so good Mikey!" I said, trying to ignore his painful cries. But he's doing an amazing job. He's only been at it for 11 minutes, much faster than most for their first shift. I continue trying to soothe him and watch as the final part of his transformation happens, and his spine begins to reshape. I smile at the small little light gray wolf and lift his head, scooting closer so his head can rest in my lap.

The football team fists bump Mikey and it’s so much I could do to try to squeeze my tiny, 160-centimeter frame through the horde of broad-shouldered lackeys surrounding him and Becca, the new ‘It’ couple, it seems. Mikey is a hammerhead football player who’s dumber than a box of screws but I guess Becca doesn’t like him for his philosophical views on things. He is ginormous compared to his teammates, with broad shoulders and arms thicker than my thighs. He's also really handsome, in that rugged manly-man type of way. Not my type but I can still see the appeal... if he doesn’t open his mouth that is.

Maya stood in front of the building and went live on every platform. "My name is Maya Chen. In 30 days, on February 14th, an extreme cold event will kill millions. I've tried to warn you. I predicted the January 8th snowstorm to prove I'm telling the truth. But the government doesn't want you to prepare. Agent Morrison, who has ties to the corrupt Hart family, tried to silence me. When I refused, she arrested me. Now she'll jail me for the next 30 days—exactly when people need to prepare." The crowd grew. More cameras. More witnesses.

But what help would that do? “Hey, are you okay?” A male voice said to me. I looked up to see a young man, with a hidden face. He wore an overly large black hoodie, the hood hanging over his head. He pulled it back slowly, revealing his round chin, large nose, and dark brown eyes. It was Mikey, Brooke and Damon’s little brother. I stood up quickly, not wanting to appear weak. “I’m fine.” “You don’t seem fine,” he said. I forced a smile.

Micky cleared his throat importantly and looked at everyone. "I got some personal work here Monty, can't tell you right now." He did his best to mimic Aryan's voice and Aryan couldn't help himself but join everyone in laughter. Micky is indeed a cheeky monkey, Aryan thought inwardly. Even as he was enjoying Micky's antics throughout the drive, he wasn't too keen to show it. *****

His upper half was ripped, chest solid and looking as strong as ever, and he did look almost the same way some hours back. His legs were longer, giving him a taller height, and those feet made large impressions on the earth. Then his eyes fell on me, and his brows furrowed. Old Mikey appeared my side, almost out of breath, as if he had been running a marathon. He had his gun in both hands. "We don't need that, Mikey," I told him. "Why? You ever seen something like this? Can't be sure what it could do." "He won't hurt us."

Mia's POV: “So, you ready for it?” Mikey asked. “I wouldn't be here if I wasn't,” Jackson said, confidently. “I like that. These are my guys; Shark and Speedy.” Mikey said introducing the people standing next to him. “Speedy is in the race. Shark helps me around so stuff goes according to plan.” Jackson shook Shark and Speedy’s hands. “It's nice to meet you. I hope we have a good race,” he said to Speedy.

She just outshined every woman in the state of Montana. “Who are you?” His question was meant to be gentle but they came out as an angry ogre. She laughed at his question. The first chord of that sweet laugh was now trapped in Killian’s mind and heart. Slowly she stood up and walked towards him. She was within four steps of him and her scent was intoxicating. It was vanilla and a fruit he has yet to identify. Up close she was perfection in his eyes. Unconsciously he stepped forward wanting to be close to her for some reason. The pain, the memories none of it was on his mind. His sole focus was on her. “Name’s Mikel Rysdale. You can call me Mik for short.”

Not that it ever was. We were waiting on Mikey Two-Times. Real nervous punk. Used to run money and drops for Damien before the whole Rossi operation started hiding in the shadows. Mikey wasn’t smart. Wasn’t loyal either. He was the type to crack under pressure, and that’s exactly what we needed. It was past two when he finally showed. Scrawny, hoodie up, eyes darting like he already knew he was being hunted. He stepped out the club, alone, walking fast down the sidewalk, head down. Like that would save him.