Sodapop Curtis Challenges Novels & Stories

I say, coughing and wiping mouth with the back of my hand. Luke’s laughing his ass off. “It’s supposed to. Puts hair on a man’s chest." He backhands my arm. “Take it slow. You’ll get used to it.” Curtis looks at the bottle. “God, I missed this.” He tips the beer back and brings it back down. “Ah. Good stuff." Curtis is older so he was able to experience drinking before we went into hiding. Me not so much. I look around the circle of guys. Luke urges. “Go on. Little sips.” He encourages.

Stephen kept his sharp, cold eyes trained on Curtis. The latter didn't cower in fear at all. Instead, he met Stephen's gaze impatiently. "Sir, what do you want from me? I'm just a regular worker here. You've wasted a minute of my working hours. I won't be able to clock out on time later thanks to you." It was then that Stephen averted his gaze. "I heard that you're quite close to Conan." "Oh, you must be talking about that idiot." Curtis explained nonchalantly, "He's richer than the other kids, not to mention more gullible as well. I tend to ask for pocket money whenever I feel like it, if you get what I mean."

Bouncing at Curves meant that Curtis was among the first people to step forward when trouble started – and trouble started there often. While everyone else ran from the violent assholes with the guns and knives and pool cues, Curtis walked right on up to them, and he always came out on top. He was fast, and strong, and merciless, especially when one of the female staff or customers had been touched or roughed up. He was an expert and fearless fighter, and in eighteen months of working with him at Curves, Tessa had never seen him tender.

Though he didn’t want to drink water right now, since it was his daughter who had suggested he do so, he gladly accepted the drink. Curtis lifted the cup and drank it all in one go. "Can I have another cup?" Bianca's eyebrows furrowed, and everyone present looked at Curtis in a somewhat strange manner. The men who had come with Curtis particularly couldn't believe their stern and dignified leader was acting like this. It was just a request for a cup of warm water, but Curtis' tone seemed to carry a hint of helpless affection for his daughter. "It's just water. If you want it, just ask for it. What are you doing?" Bianca remarked, shooting a glance at the servant next to her.

If it were, Curves would never turn a damn profit. When she’d gone back to the guys, Aidan made eye contact with Curtis and indicated with his head at the booth. Curtis turned his attention to Gabi and the guys, frowned at what he saw, looked back at Aidan and nodded. That was when Aidan relaxed a bit: he knew that Curtis was going to stay close. That was the best they could do with paying customers behaving themselves – and it’d do until the guys walked out the goddamn door. Hopefully never to be seen again.

she snapped. The sharpness in her tone silenced him for a brief second. Then Curtis smiled. But it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Okay,” he said slowly, nodding. “Let’s see how you’re going to compete with me.” There was a challenge in his voice now. He turned back toward the stage, raising his placard again. “120 million.” The number landed heavily. A few gasps followed. The stakes were rising beyond what most people in the room had expected.

It wasn’t anybody terrifying – though he suspected that some people might disagree with him on that point – since it was Dillon Saunders, his fellow badass, kick-ass bouncer. Dillon nodded in greeting, Curtis returned it. Dillon stalked over to the staffroom, shedding his heavy leather jacket as he went, returned a minute later. He looked around the room, checking things with his practiced eye, then headed over to Curtis. “OK night?” Dillon said in his husky voice, without preamble or small-talk, as per usual. “Trouble?” “None,” Curtis replied. “Tables to watch?” Curtis gestured at one near the pool tables. “The Road Devils are here tonight.”

“You look like you’ve been dragged to hell, and even hell didn’t want ya and sent you packin’.” “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” I tease, rolling my eyes. “You’re a real southern gentleman, Curtis.” He waves me off with one of his huge, calloused hands. Curtis is average height and portly, but his strength is truly incredible. His stained white shirt is coated in sweat while he yanks and fumbles with the chainsaw, mumbling curses under his breath. I find his company comforting in a way I can’t explain. “Are there… big animals out here?”

He paused and looked at Dante again. “Now, you think I am stupid enough to work again with you?” Curtis sneered. Dante smiled coldly. “And you think I am stupid enough not knowing anything about you? Your stupid mouth always boasting to some gals that want to spend a night stand with you. Are you stupid enough to know who they are?” Dante paused, looked at Curtis who stupidly opened his mouth before laughing hard at his stupidity. Curtis opened his eyes. “Were they sent by you?”

“I think they invited me to join them.” “They would,” Aidan said. “They’re asking every woman who wanders past, so Jax sent Curtis over to keep ‘em in line.” “That’d do it,” Zoe muttered. “He’s mega-scary.” “Scarier than King?” Jo asked, slurping the last of her Cosmo. “‘Cause I can’t imagine anyone scarier than King.” Zoe considered her question seriously. “Hmmmmm. OK, no. Not scarier than King, ‘cause King is his own brand of terrifying. Curtis is terrifying-esque. Terrifying lite. But still a damn beast.”