روايات وقصص ضمن The Player Hides His Past

He stood for a long time, the music and laughter of the farewell celebration drowned out by the blood streaming from his ears. What did they know, and more importantly, who was it? Few people from his past had that kind of power, and even fewer would dare to return now that they knew what he had become and what he stood to lose; if they had, it was not out of nostalgia but rather because they held a piece of something incomplete but significant. He considered the possibilities once more and gripped the phone tighter. Obliviously that past history, which he had vowed to keep hidden, was now rapping on the door, he looked up to see Cassie on the opposite half of the room, chatting and laughing

He had mistook the feeling for contempt, and for a breath, the pack had known victory might be possible. But then she had lit the night, and anything he had been came to remainder. That remainder was his fuel now. There were things he had kept hidden for years — debts repaid in silence; men turned because they feared a knife in the night; pacts forged with those men who traded in blood and memory. He had played the long game, and the moon’s light had stolen his better hours. Now, his patience and those debts would be turned outward like crocodile jaws. He would be patient with the tide.

"We're very good at hunting down what belongs to us. Especially when it tries to run." My blood turned to ice. Did he know? Was this some sort of game? "That sounds almost... threatening," I said carefully. Raymond glanced over his shoulder, that devastating smile back in place. "Only to people who have something to hide. You don't have anything to hide, do you, Just Lance?" Everything. I'm hiding everything. "We all have our secrets," I replied, echoing his earlier words. "True enough." He turned fully toward me, leaning against the dresser with casual arrogance. "So, hockey player, huh? What position do you play?"

He stroked my hair as I leaned closer into his arms hugging him partly. "How come no one ever notices the bruises and marks you have?". He spoke up. "I always cover it up". I told him. "I use a concealer but most times i just wear baggy shirts to hide it". Reece didn't say anything instead he just closed his eyes resting on the wall as he muttered incomprehensible words. I looked at his hands which were clenched into a ball of fist. "Nat. I don't think you should stay there anymore". He continue.

I replied. I was such a good liar. Maybe deception was my real power. Maybe I wasn't meant to have a wolf at all. Maybe lying was all I was good at. "When did he say he will come back?" he asked. "He didn't say... but he surely will. He just wants to live outside Dravenmoor where no one knows he's the Supreme Alpha's son and expects so much from him." I replied. Remo nodded, and tears slipped out of his eyes.

“Yeah she didn't say it was him exactly, but I have a good feeling it was. Everything added up when she told dad her story. The long gap in her resume, her fighting skills, her nightmares, and the reason she takes these pills, Dr. Smith gives to her.” “Wait, you know all of this?” “Looking and listening doesn't harm a soul.” “You mean snooping and eavesdropping.” My wolf said. “Ohh, I forgot to telling you we received a call yesterday from Hector, something about local police. I couldn't hear him properly.” “Fuck.” I took a swing at the wall once more before grabbing mY shirt. “Let's go.” Hector is one of my men that's located on a little island in a trio. This is where I run my illegal trad

"—because I want to know if whatever you're hiding is something we can work around, or something that will make this impossible." "Make what impossible?" "Whatever this is becoming." Isabella should pull back. Should maintain distance. Should remember that every word, every touch, every moment was part of the plan. Instead, she found herself turning her hand over, letting her fingers intertwine with his. "I'm hiding who I used to be," she said—the most honest thing she'd said all night. "Before I became successful. Before I learned to play the game. That person was weak and naive and got hurt badly enough that I had to rebuild from scratch."

He bought a ticket with cash—no ID required, thanks to a little verbal manipulation of the sleepy ticket agent—for a small coastal town that wasn't even on the tourist map. In the station bathroom, which smelled of urine and disinfectant, Noah stared at his reflection in a cracked mirror. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot, and he used his jacket collar to cover the red marks on his neck. He dropped his phone into a trash can overflowing with dirty paper towels, making sure it was buried at the bottom. "I’m starting from zero. You won't find me, Matteo. Never."

"Who the hell even are you? the security men drag both Alexis and Tad away. I rest on the wall, tears rolling down my eyes. Oh my God, I'm so embarrassed. umm… thank you for helping me, umm… he said. it cal. oh cal, cal. thank you cal. they're the ones that should be embarrassed, not you. he said. I mean, you just watched my whole life fall apart. I even know what I'm gonna do now. my heart was in pain and Harvey. Tad has hurt me so badly, all my effort and love, he just threw them away like I was nothing more than a piece of trash.

Alex said, handing it over to him He sighed and he collected it from him. He looked at it and clenched his fist around the penny “What if all of this is just one sick game? Maybe Anna did escape but how long has she escaped? Hours? What of my father caught up with her first? What if he’s just toying with us like he has always done? What if she didn’t even escape and he made it look like she did. He is always one step ahead of us and I don’t even know how he does it”