Scojo New York Readers Novels & Stories

Cole Sutcliffe The first thing I notice is the noise. Not the city, New York has always hummed like a living thing, but the cameras. The low, predatory click-click-click that follows us the moment the car door opens. Flashbulbs bloom like small explosions against the sidewalk, voices rising in a practiced chorus. “Cole, over here!” “Niccola, how are you feeling after court?” “Is this a celebration?”

The following morning, the city stirred awake to whispers and ripples of curiosity. Newspapers were snatched up from corner stands before the paperboys could even stack them. Coffee stalls had lines twice their usual length, not because of caffeine but because everyone wanted to see the front page. The bold headline sprawled across in black ink: “WHERE ARE YOU, RICO?”

“Hey, Han. You’re up early.” “Don’t remind me. How’s New York?” She stopped resizing images. “How’d you know I was in New York?” “Courtesy of the New York City newspaper Talk of the Town, which contacted me at five a.m. for a comment on Ava Cooper’s newest squeeze. Apparently you were spotted out and about last night.” “Shit.” “Yeah. See for yourself. The picture of you and cowboy dude is online.” “Then maybe no one will see—” “And it’s in the print version too. I was already up and headed to Booksoup for all the trade rags.”

Scotty still lived under the bridge in any town as he said it was the best place because he wanted to know people more. He collected information for Cohen about anyone in the town. From his large homeless network, Scotty did gain some authentic information which Cohen would use to avoid any pack that might come to visit the town where they were. Scotty might be a ten years old blind kid but his skill of gathering information was almost the same as Mira’s. “I hope so,” Cohen said. “So, we have stayed here way too long. Where to next?” “Do you have somewhere to go? Other than waiting for me in the back alley?”

*Skye* A month later, as the car rolls into New York, I fight to keep my apprehension hidden. Long, slow, deep breaths have been the order of the journey. As well as a mantra commanding myself to relax. It is highly unlikely that I will cross paths with Montie, that he will discover I returned. And if he does, it is possible that he wouldn’t care after all these months. He has no doubt forgotten all about me, moved on to someone else.

The prick's still awake. 1 new message From: Lorenzio "In NY. Had to meet up with my COO. Why did you call?" Received 04:47AM ◆

At first, she was enjoying watching cartoons, but as time went by, it’s becoming less interesting, so she started switching network after network, trying to find something that’d pique her curiosity. Just as she’s about to stop the search, thinking of reading some online books, a certain news channel caught her attention. A man, wearing a suit and horn-rimmed glasses, was speaking fluently, his hands clenched together on a counter. There was a headline propped in the upper part of his head that stated, ‘New York is a City of Suicide.’

Arrogant, handsome lawyer. Joachim’s fingers moved swiftly and precisely across the keyboard almost too gracefully for someone who everyone was at his beck and call. It came to life on the screen. He hummed softly next to my ear, “Let’s see what they think of us today.” The website for New York’s most infamous gossip column *The Whispering Hour* loaded. And there we were in the middle. The page was overflowing with headlines. **Is Joachim Knight and Yvette Moreno the Most Mysterious Couple in New York?**

Joann said "I will mum, work less and take very good care of yourself, don't skip any meals." Eleanor ordered. "You too my darling. Bye..." The call got disconnected and Eleanor dialed Cole's contact almost immediately. After two rings, he answered; "Hey, Cole." "Hey Nerdy, how was the journey?" He asked smiling. "Fine, New York is a great city." Eleanor said "I am sure it is, so how are you settling in?" Cole asked curiously.

And then there was Scott. Scott Mancini, the Underboss of New York, sat there looking like he was personally offended by the existence of the salad in front of him. He was wearing a suit that cost a fortune, his beautiful green eyes constantly darting to the door as if he were deciding who he’d have to kill first if things went south.