Miracle Jack O'callahan Novels & Stories

She would ask Gabriel why he left her and he would tell her he didn’t even know she existed. I lied with a rational purpose and I would hate for it to all backfire and for Gabriel to not cooperate with me when the time would come to give those explanations. I flinched when the phone rang, but I answered it quickly before Maddie woke up. It was Alana. “Bad news Kira. The stock is down so much that we’re forced to declare defeat. We’re bankrupt!”

Beside Carter. The man stood and thrust his hand out. “Hi. You must be Macie. I’m Jack Donohue.” “Jacksh’s my beshtesht bud from college.” Macie looked up at the man. Good God, he was a god. Firelight glowed behind him, making him look as if he’d been forged from steel. He was huge. Muscular. With a brawny chest, ripped biceps, big hands, and never-ending legs thick as tree trunks.

Olivia raised her hands in surrender. "Alright, chill. I was just asking. I don't want you to break down from holding it in too much." Olivia stuck out her tongue. She looked at the string of prayer beads Jack had been wearing for years around his wrist. Jack was quite a devout man in some ways. He didn't seem to have any desires or pursuits. But when he murdered people, his decisive strength made him look like another person. Jack had taught Olivia a lot of ways to inflict quick death on people.

i defended han. I heard Jack laughs dryly. " Why would i save him ? " " Because he save your sister, do you know his cover was blown up at the hospital when he save Maureen ? " I flare up. " How do you mean his cover was blown up ?" Jack asked interestedly. I sighed as i turn to Maureen , her curious look excite me. " He was stalking Zach Mike when he was dating Maureen. His partner was that guy who poses as a doctor, the one you punched in the face " i said.

They both turned. “This is Jack Cole.” Co-founder of their sister firm, Oracle, former Army Ranger, and all-around badass. One-Mile had heard a lot about this tough son of a bitch. He’d met the man in passing, along with his pretty redheaded wife, Morgan. He didn’t know much more about Jack, but if the man was here, too, whatever shit was going down was serious. One-Mile stuck out his hand. “It’s an honor.” Jack cocked his head. “The honor is mine. You’re amazing, from what I hear.”

Curiosity got the best of me and like a little child I tried to peek over Narissa’s shoulder, to see who this person was. Green Blue eyes stare back at me, his golden-honey hair slicked back, and his chin covered in a faint that cut nicely along his jawline forming into a smirk as I assessed him. Oliver freaking Steward… Boy, did he clean up good. When I saw him last a few hours ago he was covered in dirt, blood, and a whole heap of other stuff that I barely recognized him. The eyes, his eyes confuse me, I couldn’t place why they look so familiar before, maybe it’s the mate bond playing tricks on me, but his eyes, I know I’ve seen them before.

“Jack Trent, just do as he says. He’s the master of California’s miracle doctor, a legendary doctor himself! You’re very lucky to have him diagnose you.” Jack’s mouth fell agape—he couldn’t believe it at all. Suddenly, a woman started laughing and spoke sarcastically. “The master of California’s miracle doctor? A legendary doctor himself? What a joke! If he’s a legendary doctor, then I’d be St. Mary.”

"So you're like... my own personal supernatural Jiminy Cricket?" His smile widened. "If Jiminy Cricket was over six feet tall, hot, and could punch a hole through time and space, then yes. Exactly." I shook my head slowly. "This is insane." "Sweetheart," Mikah said, his tone suddenly softer, more serious. "You're in a world where wolves walk like men and soul bonds tie strangers together. Trust me... I'm the least insane thing you'll have to deal with."

I’m about to pour a glass of wine when I feel Harrison’s hand at the small of my back. “You look like you’re already thinking about what’s going to happen next,” he says, voice pitched low, amused. “I’ve been thinking about it since this morning,” I murmur. That was when Jack changed a diaper one-handed while shirtless and sipping coffee, muttering about how he deserved a medal. The man has three Celtic tattoos, two of them vaguely threatening, and somehow still managed to look like a dad pinup from a calendar no one’s brave enough to print. And he wasn’t even trying.

Not some vulnerable defenseless punk. I caught sight of my reflection on the glass father had set down. My eyes were glowing, a bright orange red. Like flames. The ember stirred in my chest, responding to the anger coiling tighter and tighter inside me. Father had kicked off the desk, his eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight in front of him. He pressed his lips into a thin line and took a step closer to me. “Oliver,” his voice came out softer this time. “You need to calm—”