Oscar From On My Block Novels & Stories

I could see through the wit and the sarcasm and the cockiness. And I could tell immediately what kind of man he was. His gaze lingered as he took a sip of his vodka. He sat right next to me just behind the bar counter. "I'm kidding," He chuckled. "But I could say the same about you. Long lost daughter of an Alpha returns to her hometown—" Oscar paused and I turned to face him. "You know me." I muttered. "News spreads." "That is creepy" I downed the rest of my tequila and Oscar leaned back in his chair with a laugh. "I promise you it's not. I just know everything that happens in this town." He said.

“The flowers…they are for you. I saw you feeling sad and got them.” ‘Lord forgive me. I didn't want to lie. Just this once.’ Oscar's face brightened into a smile. “Really? Thank you. That's so sweet.” He smelled the flowers and when he checked my food. I pushed it behind me. “They are mine.” He nodded and went back to his seat, and took another bite of his noodles when I felt Blaze's presence at the door. Knowing him, he was bound to do something crazy. I dropped the takeout bag on the kitchen counter and ran to the door. “I'll be back, soon,” I said to Oscar and opened the door before he responded then closed it behind me.

The year my sister turned fifteen, my father, Grant Davis, became obsessed with holding auctions at home. Everything in the house, from a plate of meat to a turn with the washing machine, from school lunch money to after-school activity fees, had to be won by bidding with family credits. I worked odd jobs until I dropped, sleeping only three hours a night, and finally saved up a thick stack of family credits, the paper soft and warped from my sweat. All Melody had to do was sit on the couch and shed a few tears, and my father would stuff fistfuls of credits into her arms. "Girls deserve to be spoiled. Can't have Melody feeling left out." That day, the item up for auction was an old necklace

The sudden reversal caught her off guard, and for a moment, she forgot to react. "Impossible, Oscar! You took nothing with you when you left the family! How could you have money for the newest phone? How could you have a premium membership here?" Her expression changed. "I know. You stole it from Amara, you piece of trash. Not only did you learn nothing good, but you've only gotten worse!" Oscar's smile returned. After everything Bella had said earlier, words like these no longer stirred even the slightest reaction in him. Oscar stepped closer and stopped in front of her. "That's right. I'm trash. I've gotten worse. And yet this piece of trash, this villain, was the one who took you from a c

" Oscar says as he raises up abruptly in his businesslike manner. Oscar was fast at getting this kind of info, even though I don't have any idea of his methods but trust him completely. "Thanks man, " We hugged. As he was about to leave, he stopped, swiftly whipped around and turned towards me. "This time at your place, I want to see your lady, " he left.

You're looking well as always. I smiled briefly, wary to not let him think the flattery worked on me. It was always best not to extend any invitation where Oscar was concerned. 'Not bad, Oscar,' I replied, taking a sip of rum and relishing the burn on its way down. 'How's your mum?' Oscar's mum, Rita May Turnbull - face like a

She couldn’t disrespect that. “What were you whispering over there for!” Oscar asked loudly from where he sat on a wooden block bench with his comrades. Even from this distance, his voice rang loud and clear even though he wasn’t shouting, and the thought occurred to her that some people were just especially good at making their voices heard. Vain people. “Come on. Share some stories. Did you get to drool over the colonel’s dragon some more? What happened, did he say you were too obsessed and that it would be a bad idea to let you get near one after all?”

Oscar’s face falls. “Oh, god, look at me. I’m so sorry. That is just tragic,” Oscar says. “Let me make it up to you by making another cocktail…” “…or food,” Anna says. Oscar nods. “I was so nervous about coming here that I didn’t eat all day and my stomach is hurting right now,” “Well, we can’t have a damsel in distress. Let me warm up some soup for you. There’s some creamy butternut soup,” Oscar tells her.

Oscar stood in his way, trying to block his path, while Sharon lingered in the background, looking exhausted and terrified as if a single breath might cause her to collapse. My friend commented, "You should’ve seen it in person. Donald was so overbearing. I heard he's been harassing Oscar’s law firm with phone calls, trying to get him fired, and even attempting to bribe him… Oscar's really in a bad spot right now." I wasn’t particularly concerned. But that night, a comment from Oscar appeared under one of my travel photos. He asked, "Who took these pictures of you?" I didn't reply. What did it matter to him?

"Matthias, he finished you off.” He picked up a loose brick by the corner and walked towards me. “What are you doing Oscar?” "Is it... isn't it obvious?" Oscar panted, his bloody hands fumbling with the lock on my chains. "I’m setting you free." "Why?" I asked, as the first chain fell to the floor with a heavy clink. I felt the blood rushing back into my hands as they fell. "Now," Oscar said, leaning heavily against the chair for support. "Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back."