Txt Oakland Novels & Stories

Oakland was usually so bright with evergreen trees and colorful flowers but staring now, it was almost as if drought had ravaged the land. There was barely any color, and the trees had fallen and withered. There was mourning in the air and darkness all around even though it was only daytime. I knew immediately that this was Jaxon and my mum wasn’t lying when she said Oakland wasn’t as it used to be. “Is this the place?” Elijah was just as stunned as I was and I sucked in a deep breath through my lips. But before I could say anything, a voice echoed from behind and I turned around to face Adams. He was a beta the last time I was around and he was usually so close to my Grandma.

I told him, looking into his face. "I know, and my resting heart rate is like twenty beats per minute." He joked. Always a joke. "I want to see where this goes. I like you Lex, a lot. I always have." I nodded, my mouth bone dry. "It won't affect anything at work, if we completely crash and burn and I break your heart," he smirked, moving from my slap against his chest. "We will still be the best SFO team, that's a no brainer." "You promise?" I whispered. Leon wrapped his arms around my back, pushing me forward. My head came to his, him gently kissing my lips.

Then he crouched and unwrapped the larger one. The painting was larger than I had expected. Two feet by three, oil on canvas, the tree in three-quarter view against a particular quality of afternoon sky — the kind of sky that was specific to the San Gabriel Valley, clear and high and pale at the horizon. The tree itself was a California oak, old, its crown spreading in the way of something that had decided long ago to take the space it needed.

My mind was completely, wonderfully quiet. Leo sat down beside me, taking my hand in his. His fingers were warm and strong. "Where are we going now?" I asked softly, opening my eyes to look at him. Leo looked out the window toward the vast, green expanse of the outer forests stretching far beyond the old city walls—a place no citizen of Oakhaven had been allowed to see for fifty years. "Home," Leo said softly. "To build something new."

Scar The Oak Club is the most exclusive invitation-only club on the planet. More exclusive than Bohemian Grove. More exclusive than the nuclear bunkers under the White House. It sits at the end of a long, private driveway, hidden behind high concrete walls lined with crushed glass and dotted by security cameras. Men in dark suits wander the scrubby grounds between the public world and the private oasis beyond. The scrubland gives way to a gorgeous ocean of green grass, shrubs, flowers, and trees, with the club itself in the center of all that gorgeously manicured plant life.

“The tree stands as a human being, in other words, it explains the inner self of a person, the part which wants to remain hidden. You must have noticed the strong branches and the frail barks in the body. It means the strong branches are our outer self, that we use in our every day to day lives, to show others. But the barks, they are frail and rotting away, because of all the effort it goes through to hold the branches ahead. We never know, but the fake self that we display to the outside world, often ruins who we are in the inside, so that’s what this means. And the leaves? They just play the part to make it look more triggering.” I nod and turn pages after page. Half the book is taken ov