Riley Thorn And The Dead Guy Next Door Novels & Stories

She had not dared herself to look at Shaine as Sheels backed out, telling her to stand beside her. It’s been over half an hour and the gloominess of the chamber was pressing in on her. There was no window and the deep-orange brick walls were painted with grotesque images that included people writhing in flames, people being tortured to insanity, and, most of all, the reaper with his scythe hanging right on his shoulder, his eyes hidden on his hood, though it felt so much like he’s really staring at her as though he’s not merely a lifeless painting.

Riley says feeling strangely upset. "Riley, if you could wait until tomorrow, I am coming to California, and we will leave for somewhere else. I don't think we should let it slide, we don't know what exactly he would do if by any chance he finds you." Riley smiles. Steps back inside the room. She has grown a liking for the civilization here. Her hands have touched bleached bones and fragile cups, and she has been witness to death and life when her neighbor gave birth to a child and died. The endless three months were an experience of a lifetime for her.

You never walked in without being watched. At the far end, a battered steel door sat beneath a flickering red light. Riley walked up and knocked three times — slow, fast, slow. A slit opened in the metal. A woman’s eyes narrowed from the other side. “You’re supposed to be dead.” “Hi, Romy,” Riley said. “Missed you too.” The door creaked open. --- Romy looked like a ghost that had survived a fire and then lit another one just for fun. Tall and sharp-eyed, she wore a dark trench coat with knives strapped to her thighs and silver rings on every finger. Her hair was coiled into dreadlocks streaked with blue, and her gaze lingered too long on Jaxon before she turned to Riley with arms crossed.

“That damned veiled Satyre woman said this has happened before. Same souls, same mistakes, same ending. But this time the players are different. That means we might actually have a shot at changing it.” I stand up and start pacing again. The movement helps me think. “Riley’s unconscious because she pushed everything she had into that ritual. Gunnar’s body disappeared because the deal went through. Now we’re stuck here waiting while they’re out there somewhere, probably running into each other as strangers. That’s messed up.” Summer swings her legs off the bed, her small face serious but with a spark of her usual attitude. “Strangers? Like Dad won’t even know it’s Riley? That’s stupid. He alw

"There was an explosion in the parking lot of Stealing Sunday. It rocked the entire fucking building. There was no way to keep it contained to just my people. Police are involved. One of my security guys was thrown through a glass door and cut up pretty bad. I have to go back out and talk to his family then go file the report this morning." Riley realized right away that he must've already been out for half the night and just not woken her up. She had probably been so dead to the world after he fucked her into oblivion the night before. Despite his sinister, don't-fuck-with-me appearance, she struggled up on her knees, shoved the bedding aside and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so sorr

"A woman died here, they shouldn't be allowed to just come here and trample this place like that." "It was just morbid curiosity I'm sure Mr. O'Rourke. We'd already taken what we needed from here, no harm done." He didn't seem too satisfied with her response and she found herself becoming annoyed. "Where is your wife Mr. O'Rourke? I still need to ask her some questions." "Not tonight." Why is he so persistent that I not talk to his wife? Riley turned and headed back to his truck without another word, slamming the vehicle into drive before driving back to the farm. He'd snuck out of the house because he didn't want to disturb his wife who was having a rough time.

I resemble one of those ladies from horror films who wanders off by herself or trips over every time the monster pursues her. My monster is Jason, and I'm sick of tripping. I work up the nerve to press the power button at last. Even if I've stopped watching TV, the quiet at home is challenging. He still won even though I was able to stop the commercial. He continued to stab me to death, and if I had had friends, they would have already located my body as a creepy soundtrack played.

Michael reached Riley's apartment and parked his car. When he gets out of his car, he noticed a blonde girl staring at him. Riley has some crazy neighbors. Ignoring the blonde, he makes his way towards the elevator. The elevator opened on the fifth floor and he got out. When he reached Riley's flat, he punched the pin and went inside. Rey gave her house password for him and Jordan, to use just in case of an emergency. Yea, emergency! “I am not dead, yet!” Riley screamed from the living room. He is aware that she gets pissed off at him when he allows himself inside her flat, but she never changed her password regardless.

The house sat on a corner, giving them sight lines on three approaches, with six-foot walls surrounding the modern home. Riley felt eyes on him. He turned and glanced at Brenden studying him. "What?" Riley frowned right back at him. The only person who knew he hadn't slept where he was supposed to was Grant and Erin. Brenden couldn't know. "Nothing." Brenden shrugged. "Unlock the back?" Riley jabbed at the button. He was ready to get inside, cool off, change, and get ready to wrap this job up. He had a bad feeling a pair of brown eyes were going to haunt him for a long time.

SILAS The piece of shit died before I made it out of town. I threw the door open and slammed it shut, my hand gripping the edge until my knuckles turned white. “Fuck!” The roar echoed into the night, my voice raw and frayed. I kicked the front tire hard enough to send a jolt straight up my leg, but the pain wasn’t enough. Not even close. Riley was gone. Taken. By him. Orin didn’t just hunt werewolves. He made a sport of it—stalking them, breaking them, killing them. And he’d gotten Riley. My gut twisted at the thought. I squeezed my eyes shut, fingers digging into my scalp as I yanked at my hair.