Mr 112dirtbag Novels & Stories

The security guard tells me politely, but I push him out of the way and I proceed to walk through the entrance. He is probably cussing at me, but I don't give a flying shit. He can go hang for all I care. I hate all of them! I hate Modern Comm! I hate Mr. Styles! In fact, fuck Modern Comm! Fuck Mr. Styles! I hope he rots in hell. He is so insensitive. I exhale sharply once I am out of the company's compound, and I flag down a cab. I hastily get in the back seat, banging the door shut, very aware of the driver's eyes on me.

His jacket was torn at the shoulder, a thin smear of blood on his temple, but his eyes, those eyes, were still steady, unreadable, and unshakably calm. James Carville. My savior and my curse. My living reminder that I wasn't as untouchable as I thought. "Are you going to use that? Do you even know how to shoot?" My eyes went to the small metal weapon that I am holding. "Yes I have practiced this many times and I have a license." He smirked and I caught the hidden smile on his face. "Well then, keep it in your purse all the time Miss Dankworth. Who knows? It would come in handy next time."

No one had ever laid a hand on him like this. His eyes burned with hatred as he spat out a final threat. "You actually slapped me? Just wait until my father gets here. I'll make sure you die miserably!" As if on cue, a million-dollar Lincoln pulled up at the mall entrance. Ruben stepped out in a tailored suit. The entire crowd erupted. "So, that's the chairman of Skyreach Corp? He really has a strong presence." "I heard he built everything from scratch. He's a real legend." "Mr. Campbell is his son, after all. He barely took a hit, and Mr. Campbell Senior has already come charging in to back him up."

" Even if you are a beggar, you should not look this nasty. You stink!" Mike reluctantly accepted the token and watched the couple as they drove off. He stroked his face . Oh yes, he looked nasty. His beards had grown abnormally long and looked very unkempt . The same went for his hair. Tiny bits of garbage could be picked from his hair . What was one expecting? A beggar like him had no place to call home. " Hey, buddy ," Jimmy's voice said . " Relax your nerves. Begging is way better than being a robber. "

"Mr. Johnston, I'm drinking alone at a bar, feeling awful, and some strange men keep bothering me. They said if I don't leave with them, they'll kill me... Please, come save me..." Alfred tossed the first aid kit onto the couch and shot up. "Vivian, don't be scared. I'm on my way." "Mr. Johnston, thank you... But maybe you shouldn't come. Your wife will get mad. I'll figure something out myself." "She has no right to be mad!" He cut me a cold look—me, still curled up on the floor—then hung up and rushed for the door. "Alfred, wait!" I called out to him.

I said hastily, putting the bag back on the table. Zazu's eyes narrowed as she moved her hand from her face. "What is in that bag?" she demanded. "It's nothing," I repeated.I slapped her hands away when she tried to lift the bag again , held her shoulder, turned her towards the door and began to push her out of the apartment as we kept struggling. After a lot of shouting, back and forth I managed to throw her out of the apartment and shut the door on her face. Leaning against the door, I sighed in relief, but Zazu wasn’t giving up easily. She banged on the door, her voice muffled but insistent. "Open the door, or I'm going to break it down!” Damn this girl is stubborn. Everyone on my mother'

I crossed the car quickly, scanning the overhead compartments until I spotted the red emergency sticker. I snapped it open and pulled out a fat stack of barf bags, crinkly and pale blue. Exactly what I needed. “Here!” I said, tossing a few to the nearest players. “Hold it right under your mouth. Breathe through your nose. Do not lean back.” One of the rookies was trembling so badly he couldn't open the seal. I crouched next to him, peeled the top open for him, and placed it in his hands.

This was surprising and corrected me on the fact that something was going on between them. "Who the hell are you!" Blonde asked which annoyed me. Why couldn't he just leave already since he was just an unnecessary male who was just making my burger wait longer to be devoured? "Lucas Davis. Owner of a couple of night clubs in the area, knowing you lads, you better leave before I make sure you are unable to get into any clubs in this area or even this state." This made them scramble and I sat back down to start eating my burger again. Finally, some peace-

He’s very strong, and no matter how hard I struggle, I can’t break his grip. The shorter one approaches the bed. He’s carrying a black duffel bag. Sets it on the floor. Unzips it slowly, deliberately, letting me hear the sound. Rope. He pulls out coils of black rope, soft but sturdy. Professional-looking. The kind designed not to leave marks unless you struggle too hard. “She’s a fighter,” the tall one observes. I’m still thrashing beneath him, still trying to break free. “I like fighters.” “Makes it more fun when they break.”

Thank you all for reading my book. This is my second book on good novel and I hope you all enjoy it. 'Quagmire' is a romance novel which possesses a lot of twists, turns, complications but still enough romance to keep it interesting and thrilling. The book is an entire work of fiction and is not intended to make mockery or downgrade any kind of individual.