Randall Clark Armor Novels & Stories

The next moment, Randall Harrah continued in a warm voice, "My name is Randall Harrah and I'm a good friend of Kenny Clarke." "You are Kenny Clarke's friend?" Emma Rosy was a little surprised, not expecting to run into someone she knew here. Wait ...... Randall Harrah? Why does that name sound familiar? But in a few seconds, Emma Rosy remembered, he is the Harrah Family's second young master? Randall Harrah nodded and smiled, "Yes, Kenny Clarke and I are good friends, I've heard him talk about you many times, and today I finally got to meet you in person." "So that's it." Emma Rosy nodded, her guard gradually reduced, the corners of her mouth slightly hanging a smile,

“Why is the Council here? Randall, what’s so fucking important that you would show your face in my suite again?” He stands up and meanders over to the clothes cupboard as if no one else is in the room, rummaging through until he finds a pair of shorts for himself. He finds another pair of shorts and tosses them to Reggie. I purse my lips and fold my arms over myself. “Bronx, Elder Randall says he has evidence that you were in an underground fighting ring with dark creatures.” “Yeah? And?” He pinches the end of his cigarette to snuff it out.

Alan said, trying hard to contain the smug smile that threatened to tug at the corner of his lips. "He was banged up pretty bad," Doctor Clark said then he consulted the notepad in his hand for the details. "He came in with two broken fingers on his right hand and one on his left, his And a bad trauma on his head..." he paused and hummed softly. "Alright, thank you. I think that's enough," Alan interrupted, beginning to feel guilty. "It's a miracle he even made it to the hospital without being dead," the doctor said. "Doc, that's enough," Alan said.

Randall was quick to stop him as he placed an arm across his neck and brought down his finger with which he was pointing at me. "I would not do that, if I were you. Alpha Derrick has anything against people pointing at him like he's some child or criminal. We do not want to anger him now, do we?" Randall asked him as he swayed him. The duo fell behind me and right then, Grace fell in line with me. What a bad caretaker I must be. I have not been able to ask her since Arlene threatened her if she was doing okay. Clara would sure as hell be ashamed of my actions. It was no way close to the way she was nice.

Neither Mom nor Dad spared me a backward glance. From that day onward, I learned to stand on my own two feet. I had to take care of myself. I was only six years old when I faced the loneliness, the danger, and the helplessness of life on my own. I forced myself to be strong and resilient. I forced myself to be independent. I made sure to build a tough armor around myself to protect myself from harm. My armor was close to perfect during my childhood and teenage years. However, on the night of my 18th birthday, the first crack started to form in my carefully-crafted armor.