O Crossed Out Novels & Stories

But across her face… There was a thick red X. And beneath it, in jagged handwriting: “Choose a side.”

But a lock had clicked open. And Cameron Cross didn’t take that lightly.

I took a pen and crossed a line through Cassius' name. Eighteen left.

Then I put it back in the front pocket of the notebook, in the space that had been waiting for it. I opened the notebook to the fourth column. I looked at the items. Suppression correction: crossed out. Territorial petition: I drew the line through it now. Clean. Complete. Vex Callum: crossed out. Brand removal: Thursday. Today. Dr. Elan arrived at eleven. One item. I looked at the last item for a long time.

Almost like this is the first time we've crossed the line. He reaches down and ghosts his hand over my underwear. Not quite touching, but I swear I can feel the heat of his palm through the lace. I'm almost shaking from the need to move, almost shaking from desire. "You said you were just going to look." "That's all I'm doing." His gaze meets mine and we both know we're now playing a game as he draws one knuckle down the center of my panties. "Oops." "Mason." But I don't try to stop him as he rubs my pussy through my panties. Just that slow drag of his knuckle over my slit and up to my clit and then back down again.

As the first song came to an end, Max and Damen smiled as they stepped back away from Sam and I to sit on the sofa across from us. “We each want a dance with you separately our Gia, my doe,” Max melodically insisted. The three of them seem to speak without saying anything out load, as if they communicate telepathically. It was strange but also very intriguing.

What was written on them wasn't medicine names. Numbers. Names. All crossed out. Ink faded to dead brown. 78.3%. 82.1%. 76.9%. 91.4%. The names varied. Some Omega. Some Beta. Some just code, nothing but letters and digits. Every single one struck through. The force of the lines had bitten into the wood, some of the paper punctured clean through. The last sign's ink was still wet. 99.7%. Name: blank. A shiver shuddered through my scent gland.

‘A cross, thorns, roses,’ she remembered, her hand getting the work on the paper. Bernard and Noah were silently observing her, hoping to recognize the doodles. When Ophelia was done, she straightened her back and held out the paper to the Alpha. He studied the poorly drawn illustration, but it did the trick. A cross wrapped in thorns and resting atop some flowers. “A cross on a flower bed,” Bernard whispered out loud. “Roses.” Bernard turned to Ophelia. “A cross on roses,” she elaborated. “Right,” Bernard said, turning back to the paper in hand, wondering how these doodles were roses before he returned to the matter at hand.

Upon hearing the shameless speech, it feels as if Oakley has just heard the funniest thing ever, causing his eyes to twinkle. Missed Oakley? Since how many years? It’s no coincidence the Cross family is calling now that Oakley has cleared off his debt. Oakley’s eyes turn cold, and he sneers. He replies in a chilling voice, “I don’t have a home. And don’t call my number ever again. We are strangers.” As soon as Oakley speaks those words, he ends the call, blocks their number, and prevents unknown numbers from reaching him. Finn and Monroe Cross’s expressions change, and the gentleness on their faces immediately vanishes, replaced by ugly scowls. It’s as if they’ve just been slapped fiercely.

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