Titanic Movie Jack Dawson Novels & Stories

“I don’t mind, you can always hold onto me like a life raft, call me Jack,” A smile formed on my lips, he was making reference to a corny movie that had the humans all crying over. The boy has been dumb to die for a woman that never would have been hid to own. “Are you planning to kill us?” I asked. “What?” he yelled. “How did you jump to that conclusion?” “You talked about Jack, from the Titanic… you do know that he died, don’t you?” The bike screeched to a stop and my head smacked hard against his shoulder. I winced, my hand reaching out to touch the tender spot.

Jack came up with two men. One was middle-aged, with a beer gut and a thick gold chain peeking out from his collar. The other was younger, wearing a fitted jacket, a buzz cut, and sleeves covered in tattoos. "Evelyn, meet the gentlemen. They're both dying to get this place off your hands," Jack announced, practically vibrating with excitement. "Mr. Dawson, Mr. Hayes," I nodded. "Look around. Make yourselves at home." Dawson, the one with the gold chain, did a quick circuit.

he asked, his voice low and seductive. All the men stopped to listen. "Vanessa Diaz, Captain." Jack approached slowly. He observed the details…

Controls has never been his strong suit. "My name is Mr. R.J Dawson. But you will address me as Mr. Dawson or Professor Dawson. Nothing more and nothing less" his voice was cold and straight to the point. It cut through the air like an arrow piercing everyone’s ear with his dark bass stuffed voice. Mr. Dawson had on a black well tailored suit with a white crisp shirt and a black tie. He looked like he walked off the set of a GQ photoshoot. He had dark hair that was a tussled mess atop his head and sultry mocha brown eyes that usually left those of the female species very very speechless.

Gossiping isn't my thing, but another second of keeping this secret to myself and I’ll gain a psychological injury. Myra is fast and has already started bombarding me with questions. Myra: ‘How’s it going? Is he hot? Hotter than Ian Somerhalder?’ Me: ‘Don’t be silly. No one is hotter than Ian Somerhalder.’ Myra: ‘Bummer. Please tell me it’s not a fat, divorced old man.’ Me: ‘No, on the contrary, he’s a total hunk. But you won’t believe the craziest coincidence! Jack is an abbreviation for Jackson Davis!’

Jessica was not ready to say goodbye to Dawson no matter how many times the reality dawned on her. From the time of the funeral and burial arrangement to the time of laying his body six feet down underground, she doubted if she ever got herself. The whole city came out to mourn in one way or another. To them, it was a loss. Dawson was a big business tycoon whom others began to know as a philanthropist who helped struggling businesses in the past. Xavier even heard testimonies about his grandfather from the mouths of others for the first time. Jessica did not shed a tear for fear of encouraging Xavier to break down through the process. She saw how he tried his best to be strong.

The first part sounds like admiration, but the latter carries a note of disappointment. "Yes, I’ve taken care of a child before," Dawn responds, standing up and meeting Jack’s gaze. She notices how especially handsome he looks today—no surprise for a top actor. "I thought you knew, though, since you recognized me so quickly when we first met. You’ve met Travis, haven’t you?" Jack raises an eyebrow before chuckling softly. "Well, yeah, but I didn’t think you *were* his wife." "And I wish you weren’t," he mutters under his breath, stealing a glance at her.

“I have no young lady with me, do you mean my wife, perhaps?” “Your wife?” Jack sneered. “ When exactly were you her husband? When all you did was mess up with her mind, all you did was beat her to a stupor, you had a clean image in the public but inwardly, you were trash” he spat out. Dawson's brows puckered. “ You don't know what you are talking about, do you think that if you stop me with your entourage, I am going to go along with what you want? Do you even know who you are talking to?”

he replied and I nodded, “I'll walk you to the door” We both made our way to the living room to see the three men dressed up. “Well, good morning” It was still very early. I wondered where they wanted to go, but I tried not to ask. “Good morning, Grace. You're up early, “Jack smiled at me and I returned the smile. I'd never seen Jack before until he came. He had helped a lot in taking Davis out of the hospital, I'm grateful to him.

The only alternative was death. Like it or not, that made Master J—whose real name was apparently Jack and a relative stranger—her only hope for salvation. With a few glances and fewer words, Jack had made it clear he was no saint. Even now, she felt his gaze burn her back. Against her will, she peered over her shoulder. Jack stared up with an intent gaze, eyes looking nearly black, as he watched her ascend the stairs. A speculative smile creased the chiseled features of his strong-jawed face.