Montgomery Scott Novels & Stories

“Hmmm. Okay. I hope it is something you like and be happy about.” He laughed. “Jacquelyn, I will love anything you give me.” I hope so. ------ Carter was changing into his uniform in the station’s locker room. Williamson was due back tomorrow. He was bringing his brother Scott back home with him. Scott was on leave because he got shot in the arm in the line of duty in Ohio. He had pulled a guy over for a broken tail light. As soon as Scott had gotten out of the car, the driver had jumped out of his vehicle and started firing. Scott had been hit, but he was still able to return fire. He killed the driver. Scott hadn’t known it at the time, but there was an unconscious teenage girl in the tru

Scott stood still on a road. There was no one there. Just him and the forest on either side of the road. His clothes were shabby, his face messy, his black hair tangled. He was wearing an oversized blue t-shirt that was starting to fade and light brown sleep pants. He looked like he hadn't slept or changed his clothes in days. Scott had a book with him, a book he held tightly in his arms. The street was deserted. Only the occasional car passed by.

Scott pointed to the seat next to Cameron and I took it without hesitation. Mr. Scott was a man in his early fifties with salt and pepper hair cut short to his scalp and a huge built. I think he was well over six feet tall, much the same height as Cameron and his skin was a dark caramel. Overall, he was a very intimidating person that no one wanted to mess with. Hopefully, I hadn't done anything to get on his bad side either. "I-is this a-about Mr. A-Agnes?" I managed to stutter out past the lump in my throat.

They belonged to his minion, his most loyal minion Scott. "Scott, of course!" I laughed, holding my stomach, "That coward can't face me, so, he sent his little doggy. Little Scotty always doing what Don Nikolai Costello wants him to do. You're like his pet, like a loyal little bulldog that would do anything to lick his boots." "You're fucking dead..." he sneered as he approached me. "What's the worse he could do? Kill me?" I pushed his pitbull back. "Bianca!" Scott's chest heaved up and down so fast that it looked like his chest will explode at any given second, "Take her out of here before I fucking put a bullet in her head."

“But she won’t even agree to… never mind.” Scott scrolled through his tablet. “Do you want us to study at your penthouse, mine, or the farmhouse? I’m trying to set your schedule for tomorrow.” “You brought your tablet to the club? Are you kidding me right now? Put that thing away!” Scott acts like a nerd, but he isn’t. My father liked him a little too much. Said he kept me in check. Scott wasn’t just my best friend. He was also my personal assistant and PR manager. But sometimes he took that role way too seriously. He was starting to sound like my dad.

Scott responded to the taunt with a sharp look, and his friend immediately shut his mouth. “See you at the base,” said his other friend, who was big and seemed quiet. Scott nodded, and both of his friends left the large house. After the door closed again, Scott turned and faced Ciara. “Listen,” Scott said. He looked around as if making sure there was no one else here except the two of them. “We’re going to meet my father. His name is Hugh. He’s the Alpha of Silvercrest Pack.” Then Scott stopped and rubbed his chin. “Alpha is—”

Mr Scott said. "Okay," Mrs Scott said and turned on the TV in their bedroom. "A news serious as hurricane Katrina catastrophe has just hit our nation. Mr Jeremy Scott, who is the identical twin brother of Mr Andrews Scott is not dead as we were made to believe. Thirty years ago, a man died in a tragic accident due to a malfunction of a vehicle and the body was identified as Mr Jeremy Scott. It turns out that news is false and Mr Jeremy Scott is still alive. Stay tuned for more details on this story," announced the reporter.

Scott pointed to the seat next to Cameron and I took it without hesitation. Mr. Scott was a man in his early fifties with salt and pepper hair cut short to his scalp and a huge built. I think he was well over six feet tall, much the same height as Cameron and his skin was a dark caramel. Overall, he was a very intimidating person that no one wanted to mess with. Hopefully, I hadn’t done anything to get on his bad side either. “I-is this a-about Mr. A-Agnes?” I managed to stutter out past the lump in my throat.

He took on all cases involving gangs and prostitutes and was good at spinning a lie to get people off the charges. “Which ADA got the case?” “It’s looking like it’s going to fall with Evelyn Ward.”

They carried on with their lives as if nothing had happened. And now, people had the audacity to say, "After you were taken, Scott was depressed for three years. He almost jumped off a building. If it weren't for his efforts contacting friends in Asternis, you wouldn't have made it back at all!" I didn't respond. I simply reached into my pocket, fingers brushing against the diamond ring hidden inside. … When I remained silent, Scott's friends took it upon themselves to speak. "Mia, Scott developed bipolar depression because he missed you so much. Now that you're back, you can finally take care of him."