Scott Hall 1984 の小説・ストーリー

Chapter 8 Vivianne Sinclair My breath caught in my throat the moment I stepped into the gym. My eyes swept around, jaw almost reaching the ground at the pack of temptation before me. They were all shirtless, body dripping with sweat, and fuck! Those sexy abs… Fuck! I can't handle this. “Ms. V…” A familiar voice called. It was Scott. He'd just stepped out of the treadmill, his body dripping wet with sweat. “You're here…” He stopped before me, his eyes sweeping over my body. “You look... different today.”

Hilda unchained Hailey and whispered softly “I know I have wronged you in so many ways, but I am sorry and I never intended to hurt you..It was my boss' wish.” Hailey listened to her and was nervous, she didn't know what Hilda might do next. So she pushed open the backseat door and stepped out, breathing heavily. While looking around, she found Scott walking towards her with tons of military men in uniform. “I need to get out of here,” Hailey said as soon as Scott got closer to her. “The president will be here soon,” Scott said and signaled his men to get Hilda out of the car. “Did she hurt you,” Scott asked, facing Hailey.

It was as if he’d stumbled straight into a dressing room from the backstage world of a theater. Scott was in the corner, bent over a carton box, rummaging through it frantically. Rashid wanted to look at him too but Scott was right in front of him on the other side of the wall. As he moved to sneak a look, his foot landed on an object and a crisp, crunching sound echoed in the silence. Hunter shot Rashid a grimace while Scott’s eyes darted to the wall-door with alert suspicion. Scott straightened up, eyes wide and hands reaching out to grab a rod (broken out of a clothing rack stand) from the floor. He lifted it over his right shoulder as his fingers tightened around the metal shaft. He adva

I roll my sleeves up, helping Cherry to color a pencil she drew. It looked like a banana of some sought but she was pretty good for her age. It's my second week reaching here and it's been a really fun experience for me. I dropped the color and clapped my hands for her, a wide grin took over her face, then her eyes dart to the door and they go wide. Turning around, I see Scott standing at the door, his hands his in his long jacket, his dark rugged jeans right on his legs, and his boot as always was chelsea. He looked sinfully handsome just standing there and he didn't even have to try.

I’m curious what he might say or do without knowing I am there. “Scott! Wake up!” Shaun shakes his guard lightly. “I can’t believe you slept through all this,” he mutters, looking off to the empty prison cells. “She works fast. I can’t believe no one knew she even got in. Yet she didn’t leave any scent when she was in the shadows…” he sighs and looks back to Scott. I wait for a few more minutes before releasing the spell I cast on the man and making my way back out of the prison. As I move, I can hear Scott slowly stir awake.

Scott takes his seat at the head of the table, and slowly the hall begins to fill with more and more pack members. My heart beats faster with every person who walks in. Until eventually, there are barely any empty seats left. Scott quickly glances at me before he stands and clears his throat. The entire room quiets and everyone looks at him and I immediately tense. He looks around the hall, calm and confident. “Everyone. I have some news that I would like to share with you.” Scott takes a breath. “I found my mate.” He says and my grip on Ethan tightens slightly The room erupts instantly.

It was Scott, curled up in a beanbag with a textbook propped on his knees and a half-eaten chin-chin pack beside him. “You live here or what?” Oliver teased as he dropped his notes onto the center table. Scott looked up and grinned. “Hey! You’re ruining my perfect isolation. I was having an intellectual date with Guyton and Hall” Oliver raised a brow. “Heavy reading for someone who compared himself to a croissant earlier.” Scott patted the floor next to him. “Come, let’s make a study deal. I quiz you, you quiz me.” Oliver sat down. “Fine. But I’m brutal with my questions.”

She still remembered the way—she’d walked these halls countless times with Scott and Ezra. She stepped inside. The room smelled strongly of alcohol. Scott was on the floor. “Oh my God,” Heather rushed to him. “What are you doing?” She took the cup from his hand, and then she saw his face. Bruised. Swollen. Her voice softened. “You poor thing.” “You should see the other guy,” Scott muttered with a drunken laugh. She helped him onto the bed and eased him down. “This isn’t you,” she said quietly. “You look… pitiful.”

Winnie whispered, “Scott, what is this?” Scott’s eyes stayed forward. “A meeting.” Freeda stared at him. “A meeting with who?” The doors opened. A corridor of white stone and dark wood. Soft light. No music. No warmth. Just control dressed in luxury. At the end of the hall, double doors waited. Scott stopped and looked at Freeda. “Listen,” he said quietly. “When we go in there, do not look for kindness. Look for the angle. These people will smile while they count your bones.”