Young Jonathan Davis Novels & Stories

Her dad. Abraham Davis. A veteran. A retired cop. A man who had been through hell and back—and now used a wheelchair after an accident that hadn’t taken an ounce of dignity or edge from him. I’d only met him once, briefly over the phone when vanessa was still in new york, and even then, the air had seemed to still around him. Not from anger. Just presence. He noticed everything. And today, he was bringing the entire Davis clan to my home for Thanksgiving. “I want it to go right,” I muttered.

she inquired tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper. Donovan's gaze shifted to the girl, his expression remaining impassive. "I am Donovan Garrett," he replied simply. "President of the Student Union Government, Wilberforce Island University. And Boma is my wife." The serving personnel exchanged puzzled glances, sure of the significance of the title. But they had always assumed Boma's husband, if she had one, would be someone unassuming, like her. As far as they were concerned, she wasn't important. She was there partaking in the punishments just like everyone else. It would be safe to even assume she might be among the poorest staff, the way she acted like her whole life depended on

XAVIER’S POV The seconds between 7:59 and 8:00 had felt like entire decades. I had never been that restless in my entire life, not even before championship finals. When I finally pressed the call button, my hands were trembling. Davis picked up almost instantly, his voice clipped and professional, like someone who had nothing but facts stored behind his tongue. “Hello, this is Davis, your private investigator and tech guy.” It grounded me a little, but my chest still felt tight.

She had been in tears as he spoke to him. “Mumma has left us, Ethan.” The stark, raw pain in her voice made Ethan wish he could jet across to be with the girl he loved. But better sense prevailed. And Jamie insisted that he should stay the night in the town of Thomasville. But when he dropped in to meet the Commander, the man in charge of the Police Precinct, his counterpart was on his way out, a harassed look on his face. “Join me, Davis,” sighed the old man, a grizzled Texan named Wade Thornton, who was on the verge of retiring and leaving for his beloved Texas.

If that girl is alive , she bet that they could pass for age mate or maybe not. He looked at his assistant who was now the best man and ordered coldly " continue " Fear got hold of Adam Davis and his wife. This must be the illegitimate son of James Reynold. They were all confused but didn't dare alter a word or do anything because of the six guys. They looked on helplessly until they heard a gentle but firm voice.

The cry of pain that followed made my heart ache as my mom sat on her knees, sobbing at what just happened. The commotion, catching dad’s attention, had him walking toward us to see that Vitaly was dead on the ground. His eyes were cold, emotionless even, as he turned toward his pack members, watching as they got the last of the elders, their bodies dropping to the ground before they could say a word. I walked toward mom, wrapping an arm around her, and pulling her to my chest.

The gun I was holding fell off my hand, “Davis”

Mr Davian smiles and leads the way to the dining table . They enjoy the meal amidst laughter , joy and happiness . Its long since they have been this happy . After his dad was flown for medication they never enjoyed life but kept praying for him and wishing him the best . But today they were happy . Suddenly a faint voice is heard over the speakers and they all look up . "My son , you have chosen well . Keep her and never let her go ." His father says . Mr Davian didn't expect this . The whole process was live and his father saw from the moment they walked in from their room.

He smiled knowingly, very self-assured in his ability to affect her. "He was thirty-seven." She responded flatly. "Remove your hands, sir." "Quite a bit older than you?" He arched a brow, making the statement a question and ignoring her request. "My marriage is none of your concern. Are you who you say you are?" His hands stayed loosely around her waist. Infuriatingly she found herself leaning against him from the cramps in her calves caused by being forced to hold her weight on the tips of her toes. "Yes, my name is Jonathan Davis."

Hayward greeted with a slightly constrained expression. Flynn was stunned at first, then he scanned Hayward up and down, “You are?” “My father is Quashawn Davies, nicknamed Davy Baton, an accountant from Yorknorth Mountain Village. We met you last week!” Hayward was nervous and afraid that Flynn Lexington would forget about him. “Ah I remember now, you’re Little Davy. There’s nothing else here now, don’t pry. You better leave here early and return home!” As soon as Flynn heard about Yorknorth village, he paid a considerable amount of attention to him and shook his hands.