The Man By The Sea Novels & Stories

His face darkened under the moonlight, vanishing the expressions in his facade. They were by the sea side as the hunt took place, as the man he was chasing followed the path of the shore. Unfortunately, he had to stop following that path right now, as he was already right before Manuel’s nose. Without hesitation, Manuel grabbed the man by the collar of his suit. The man stumbled and they both fell on the sand. “Whose order are you following?” Having the advantage, Manuel quickly put his weight over him as he exerted force into his limbs on his back. He didn’t even take his time to catch his breath at first and instantly went to business.

He questioned calmer than he was before. Elena was a stubborn woman, she wanted the man for herself even though she knew he had no feelings for her, she couldn't help but desire him. And after what she had managed to get him to do this morning she couldn't help but hope for more. "I just wanted to ask if you want to have lunch with me." She innocently smiled up at him. He was hurting her both knew that, the hard grip he had on her arm will surely bruise her but neither cared.

Pulling my hand from Dom’s I reached for my bag, pulling out the sunscreen. “Your drinks?” A man seemingly appeared out of nowhere, I jumped dropping the sunscreen as I whirled around to face him. “How did-” “Told you.” Dom chuckled, picking up the sunscreen and flipping the lid open. He squeezed some of the coconut scented lotion onto his skin before rubbing it onto his arms. My mouth went dry as his hand moved over his chest down to his abs. He lifted an eyebrow at me, his tongue moving over his canine teeth. “Thank you.” I said as the man sat two drinks down on a table beside the chaise lounge chairs. He left us alone, heading back to the hotel.

The eighth time I caught Oscar Stanton in a hotel suite, he silently picked up the fruit knife from the nightstand and slashed his wrist eleven times. “Satisfied now?” Blood ran between his fingers and dripped onto the carpet. He looked at me as though I were a madwoman who had driven him to kill himself. I stood frozen, the toy gun still clenched in my hand. For a moment, everything felt strangely unreal. After all, the last time things had gotten this bad, I had kicked his mistress into a crocodile enclosure and demanded that he never see her again. In retaliation, he had buried my mother’s ashes beneath a public restroom. He laughed and said, In retaliation, he had buried my mother

They think she might have drowned’ He met the Greek’s look and winced: this man looked completely broken. Alexis bit his bottom lip with strong white teeth. ‘It can’t be Carrie, she’s a good swimmer.’ He looked at the rolling sea, at the waves tripping furiously over each other. The best swimmers could die in this, a summer storm, but he refused to believe the sea had taken her life. Her father had called her child of the sea for a damn good reason. In a mute silence the three men walked solemnly over to the harbour wall where the body of a woman lay covered by a white sheet, lifting slightly in the wind. Passers-by were staring as if at a peep show, until officers pushed them back.

Because Braxton didn't look back, he didn't see the men in black who'd arrived at the pier, nor did he see Annalise slumped in the car, her wedding dress covered in blood and dust. The only thing he could see was the horizon beckoning. Braxton felt like he could already envision Tamara's silhouette. This time, he would go to her. He pushed the speedboat to its limits to the point where it nearly flew off the surface of the sea. No matter how many storms he had to weather or how many hurdles he had to overcome, Braxton would not let go this time. As his boat neared the island, the person standing by the beach came into focus. Judging by the figure's height, he was clearly a man. Braxton's hea

One walked dangerously close close enough that Amelia could see the mud on his boots, the woven buttons on his coat, the edge of his bayonet glinting in the firelight. Her breath caught. The soldier paused. Looked around. Amelia’s chest tightened painfully. Ryan’s hand slid over hers slowly grounding her. His thumb brushed her knuckles in a silent promise: I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you. The soldier turned away. The footsteps grew distant. Amelia let out a shaky breath. “We need to move,” Ryan murmured. “Where?” “To the coast. Calais. It’s our only chance.” She nodded. Then Ryan swayed.

The sea was dark, but with the cargo in the ship emitting light, it looked as if a party was happening in the middle of the sea. Watching the sea depart, a man sipped on a cup of coffee- pure black coffee without sugar. “Bitter,” he exclaimed as he scrunched his nose. However, he took another sip- as if he was addicted to that bitter taste. The man was tall- his height was around 6 ft and 3 inches. Under the formal coat, his tattooed muscles were bulging. His short hair was oily but combed back elegantly nevertheless. While his face had many scars, they did not escape from the tattoos either. Above his left eyebrow, in a dark blue color, a word was written.

The men followed closely, their expressions carefully composed to avoid drawing attention. As they approached the sea taxi, Zena locked eyes with the man in charge and spoke in a low, urgent tone, "We need a boat that can take us to remote areas. We're willing to pay handsomely for your services." The man, clearly assessing the situation, glanced at Zena and her crew with a hint of suspicion. "The only boat capable of reaching remote areas is about to depart," he replied, motioning towards a small, rusty vessel preparing to cast off. With a nod, he excused himself from the conversation and sauntered away, leaving the crew in a tense silence.

Mariko said, then she opened the door from behind. “Oh, alright. Let’s meet here at eight pm?” Orianna said, which made Mariko nod before she enter her unit without saying a single word. *** The sun is shining, the blue sea glistens on an island as its waves crash against the shore. A young man came up from the sea. He was only wearing trunks that would reach above his knees, showing the scar that was the sign of his car accident.