Milkman Novels & Stories

It felt wrong but he would not take anything from me. I headed to the kitchen and made a hot drink. The warmth settled me. My house was too busy for my liking. I offered Logan a drink which he gladly accepted. As we were drinking there was another knock at the door which was unexpected. I froze, gripping my hands against the counter. Logan disappeared and returned a few moments later with someone behind him. “Leah, this is Jack, he does security for us. Jack this is Leah.” Jack was shorter than Logan and a lot stockier. He was muscular and had a shaved head. He reminded me more of an army man than anything else. His arms were covered in tattoos, and his stance screamed military. He stepped f

To his left was a small fountain, and the sound of gently flowing water was soothing as he began to scan ahead and slightly to the right, walking between the rows. At last, he found what he was looking for. A somber light gray granite stone, polished to a deep sheen, with a simple but heartfelt inscription: Dack Abrams. Soldier. Son. Brother. Friend. You are missed. Tim stood for a long while, just staring at his friend’s headstone. Then he gently cleared his throat and sat down beside it. “Hey, buddy,” he tried to say, and instead burst into tears.

"Ms. Brook said you're stiff as a board in bed. I guess I'm the one who can actually satisfy her. Next time, you can stand there and watch. Learn how to please a woman." I didn't even look at him, brushing past him as I entered the room. My indifference must have enraged him as he raised his hand to hit me. "I'm talking to you! Are you deaf?!" A slender hand suddenly caught his wrist. Evelyn appeared behind him and shot him an icy look. "Get out!" His eyes reddened at once as he started whining. "Ms. Brook, I..." Evelyn's face darkened. The man instantly shrank back in fear, grabbed his clothes, and ran. Meanwhile, I started cleaning up the room as if nothing had happened.

The note read, "I know that Mr. Kingston doesn't lack money, but I just wanted to treat Cody and his unborn sibling to some candy." We were later told by the roadside hotdog stand owner, Hank Walters, that he saw a tall, thin man heading toward the bus station at the crack of dawn. The man had a massive rucksack on his back and seemed to be walking with much difficulty as he was limping all the way. "I heard that he went to Monthill Plains to work as a teacher there." Hank continued grilling hotdogs as he added, "He's just making things difficult for himself. There isn't even a proper road in Monthill."

No one comes here without permission. The door opens, and there he is, tray in hand, the faint smell of pine and smoke following him like a shadow. For a heartbeat I think I might still be dreaming; the sight of him in the doorway feels too strange, too ordinary, for a man who once broke the world beneath my feet. “I brought this,” he says simply. “Milk. For them.” My mouth feels dry. “You could have sent someone.” “I did,” he answers, stepping inside. “But I changed my mind.”

I didn't have a choice. Mentioning his dad, Arthur Jenkins, actually made me hesitate. Arthur had been my driver for six years. He was honest, reliable, and never caused any trouble. In those six years, he was never late, never got a ticket, and would always politely try to refuse the holiday bonuses I handed out. But three months ago, he was diagnosed with a lung condition that required long-term rest, forcing him to retire. On his last day, he stood in my office, rubbing his rough hands. After hesitating for a long time, he awkwardly told me that his son, Hayden, had just lost his job and asked if I could give him a chance.

For the first time in his life her was afraid, afraid of her opinion of him, afraid of if she would even like him, just afraid. Present Day. It had been two weeks since I graduated from university and moved back home with my parents and brothers. My father, Romero Ramos, is the leader of the Spanish/American Mafia until my eldest brother, Mateo Ramos, takes over next year. My mother, Maria Ramos, was born into the Mafia just like the rest of my family and lastly my second brother, Sebastian Ramos will be my Mateo's second in command for Mateo when he become leader. The there's me, Sofia, I have been involved in offical mafia business since I was sixteen years old, my job is mostly traning ne

I hold my stomach, It must be hunger though I feel so weak still standing on shaky legs considering the fact I hadn't eaten in so very long time. I frown at myself "You have to leave before you consider food. Alexander is solely behind this" He wants us to feel so comfortable in the strange house" I mutter to the Lil one in me, Put my leg out of the window, I bite my lower lips while looking down at the height I stay calm when I see that door keys are turning "Someone is coming, OH no I have to jump" I cry out, still looking down Immediately, the door opens a young man walks in with a cup of milk and a bucket of Coldwater in his arms

“Yes, ma’am. It’s a long story, but I’ve come to settle a thirty-year-old misunderstanding. I’m told you’re the one to help me put things right.” “I’m sorry… Uhm… I don’t follow…” He frowned. “Oh, I’m not doing this right. You have to excuse me, I’m a little nervous.” She furrowed her eyebrow. “I assure you, Mr…” “Kingman,” he said and held out his hand. “I’m Jackson Daniel Kingman, originally of Decatur, but I’ve been in Los Angeles these past thirty years.” For some reason, Mackenzie couldn’t place, his name roused a sense of recognition. She shook his hand.

He's a lot braver than I am, in my opinion. I was on the edge of collapse when I approached the bartender and asked for a whiskey recommendation. I really wanted to scream, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. His question was, "Do you think you're okay, miss?" I tried to remove his attachment to me, but he had no intention of severing his relationship to me, let alone letting go of me completely. "Leave me alone, you moron; don't you dare to touch me!" screams the narrator at the beginning of the story. My godfather served as mayor of the city where I grew up, and my father is the chairman and chief executive officer of MM Enterprises. The chances are strong that they will shoot you in the