Peter Parker Room Novels & Stories

“See him to the blue room. Leave us. Have the outer perimeter sealed. No one hears what is said in that room.” “Understood.” I rise, adjusting the cuffs of my shirt beneath my jacket as I arrange the files in my paper, saying under my breath, “You may stop painting and leave,” The painters leave instantly. The blue room is not truly blue. It is a shade of cold, silvery gray. The samovar gleams in the firelight, a metal urn for tea. When I get there, Pakhan Piotr Volkov is not sitting, or drinking his tea.

Before I could breathe and answer this, a voice interrupted us. “No she doesn't.," Mr Peter said, sliding into the space between us, claiming his territory. He looked into my eyes, and the room vanished. His presence swallowed everything, “Am I right, Ms Easton,” He asked. His presence was enough to make everyone scared of him. “Yes, Mr Parker,” I whispered. The man stepped back and disappeared into the crowd. Mr Parker stood beside me, close enough that I could smell his cologne.

It took me a while, but finally, peace was in my grasp once more. Still, I never imagined she would give him my contact details without my consent! "I know girls like you are shy and play hard to get. You're rejecting me now, but you asked your roommate to give me your contact details," the man texted me. I instantly deleted his text and blocked him.

“Uh-Our house, obviously. Why? Something’s wrong?” “Just-Ugh! Keep him there,” Peter ended the call. He turned around and walked towards his friends. “Look, I need to settle some matters at home. So, I need one of you to guard her room. Make sure no one comes in to kill her,” “I’ll do it,” Damond offered. “Thanks,” Peter said before walking away. *** Peter walk inside the house and found Keith and Mason in the living room. Seeing Peter sped walking towards them with a murderous look, Keith stands up in alert.

Peter leaned back on the very high-quality leather sofa, eyes closed, he tried not to smash the glass wine bottle on the head of the laughing belly. Peter tried to think of places she could go, but he found out. During the time he knew her, she only stayed at home or went to the TV station to work. His head suddenly flashed a light, he remembered the night he and she had sex in bed, there was that hotel and bar too, he hadn't tried going there to find her. His eyes flashed, and Peter suddenly stood up, and dashed to the door, leaving Jack alone. Jack was suddenly left in a large VIP room: “…”

“Sir—,” “Listen, Kid,” he said. “My mother is a drug addict and she’s sleeping with some guy for money right now. I need you to tell me now, before I come around and look for myself.” “Room 25,” she whispered, dropping eye contact. “Thank you,” Patch said, and walked out of the door and toward the room. An old pickup truck was parked close by, and it struck a nerve. He was positive he’d caught his mother with the same man before.

Phew, that means they couldn't have been eating those hobos. Not even bothering with the boarded-up doors and windows on the first few floors, the two just hopped in through the fifth story. Syn led him into the only room that didn't look like hell, obviously they'd done some redecorating. The walls were adorned with white sheets, a new carpet covered the floor and piles of pillows, cushions and mattresses were the only furniture. "Who's the Pulse?" Asked a voice from behind. Mike turned and saw someone lurking the doorway. "Relax Mark, he's with me. He's a newbie, doesn't even know how to go Cold yet."

he says and I nod. “Yeah, but I am okay,” I say, trying not to move my face again. I flinch and he nods his head. “You can’t really speak, can you? Poor lamb,” he says and I nod. Peter is getting out of the city and now I am sure he will not work. He has been lying to me. That night, he wasn’t clubbing with business people. He was with her. We arrive in an area that looks like the Bronx, with people outside the building smoking weed. Peter walks past a group of men and I give the guy money before I open the door.

“This isn't the floor my mother was staying on.” The nurse smiled again. “No, Miss Oxford.” Something about that smile made Marilyn suspicious. “Your mother's room has been upgraded.” “Upgraded?” “Yes.” The nurse pressed another button. “To one of our VIP recovery suites.” Marilyn stared. “What?” “I assumed you already knew.” Marilyn didn't answer. Because she didn't. The elevator doors opened. The floor they stepped onto looked nothing like the rest of the hospital. Everything was different here. More luxurious. More exclusive.