Torchwood John Hart Novels & Stories

She squeezed my hand, rubbing circles on them. I leaned closer to her. “You were perfect.” Her breath shuddered. “I was terrified as a chicken.” “Still braver than most, the storm is settling,” I said softly. “It sure is." She whispered , looking up to me, eyes shining with joy. We left the viewing stands and headed towards the tunnels, towards the exit and a man with navy coat approached me. I immediately recognized him as Coach Hartley, he worked for a smaller hockey team in the city. They were named the Timber Wolves and they were really good.

"He's married with two kids now. His mom is here. I interviewed him last year and there's no way he's leaving." "No shit?" Christian says. "You interviewed Jason Hart? What's he like?" I smile. "He's huge. I mean, humongous. But he is just the nicest guy. Exactly like he was when he was drafted." "Wait," Rowen says. "How do you know what he was like when he was drafted? Weren't you like fifteen when that happened?"

The look on her face that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with a person who had stopped being surprised by disappointment. I thought about Tomas saying I had lost her before Sienna. That I had grabbed the nearest stable thing and held it too tight. I pulled out my phone and called. Tomas picked up on the second ring. "Hey." "I need to tell you something." "At ten in the morning." "I just came from a meeting with Hartwell." I leaned against the railing. The cold metal pressed through my jacket. "He gave me a letter of recommendation that has an NHL scout coming to our next home game."

Hockey is my game. Oliver is supposed to follow me, but he’s swapped with the research on Justin, Luke and their family. I join the team, as they are warming up already. Coach sees me and barks angrily, “you’re late Arthur. Next time, come with your coffin.” I smirk and join the drills. Blades cutting crisp lines on the fresh ices. Passing, shooting, checking. My wolf enjoys hockey too. He likes the control aggression, how my body moves with power against the human, who tries to keep up with me.

He looked towards Harold who nodded him on. Days earlier, Harold had gone to the elders and made sure they swore to side him when the time comes in repayment to the debts they once owe him. Although he hadn’t met all of the elders, but he was certain with the once he spoke with, victory would be theirs. Elder jasper had the necessary things for the voting brought. “Does anyone wish to stay out of this voting?” he asked. None indicated then he continued.

"These were taken from a high vantage point." "I climbed a few trees to avoid being seen." "Your commitment is impressive." "Thanks, sir." He points to a photo where Dale is shaking hands with another man. "I'm not sure who that is yet, but there's a tattoo on his hand. A 'M' crossed out. I believe Dale works for him, and they're after whatever secret Hera knows." My blood turns cold as I look at the tattoo. "That can't be right," I murmur. It must be a mistake. It can't be him."

STEFAN “Hart.” The name leaves my mouth sharper than I intended. Three days after Leo and Adrian’s engagement party, I’m standing in the Aurora Wolves training facility, leaning against the glass wall of the gym. Across the room, Noah Hart is kneeling beside a stack of resistance bands, organizing equipment for the afternoon physio sessions. He ignores me. Completely. Typical. My trainer pushes through the door behind me, clipboard in hand. “Warm-up in five, captain.”

Very calmly, Roseanne asked him, “What are you sorry for?” Nathaneil answered, “I am sorry for being a part of Hart family.” Roseanne asked him, “Let me frame a question for you: Are you a member of Hart family?” His answer would decide many things. He shook his head and answered, “I am no longer Nathaneil Hart. I left that family a decade ago. I have no affiliation with that family for ten years now. Yes, it's true that Ellora Hart and Nikolai Hart gave birth to me. That's the only connection I have with that family.”

he asked. More than anyone, enough to keep him at a distance because I knew how easily I could fail him. “I do.” “Then stop shutting me out.” I looked at him, really looked, and saw the exhaustion there beneath the stubborn tilt of his jaw. The bruises beneath his skin, the scars we hadn’t named yet, the weight of knowing every breath he took might be his last. He deserved the truth. “His name’s Jasper Hart. Ex-team leader, dirty as hell, he got dishonorably discharged two years before I left, he’s good at what he does, almost too good.”

"He's married with two kids now. His mom is here. I interviewed him last year and there's no way he's leaving." "No shit?" Christian says. "You interviewed Jason Hart? What's he like?" I smile. "He's huge. I mean, humongous. But he is just the nicest guy. Exactly like he was when he was drafted." "Wait," Rowen says. "How do you know what he was like when he was drafted? Weren't you like fifteen when that happened?"