Jules Wallet Pulp Fiction Novels & Stories

He was not interested in poking his nose into affairs like this. When both of them left the room, Michael felt his eye twitch upon seeing the sweat on Wanda’s head matting her hair. He promptly thought that he had read too much into the situation. How could Kayson be someone so crude? Over two hours later, Jules came back panting. “Here, these are all the pills that I had at home. I’m not keeping anything from you!” Jules was on pins and needles, worried that Kayson would doubt him or feel dissatisfied.

Jules was always so talkative, so it was a bit jarring to see him so flustered and tongue-tied. “Are you going to fire me?” Jules asked, his voice small. “For hiding my identity?” Liam shook his head and sighed deeply. “Don’t be afraid, Jules,” I said, turning to Jules. I was careful to keep a gentle, sympathetic look on my face. “It’s just that, well, we discovered some things while we were in France. Important things. VERY important things.” “What things?” Jules asked. I paused. How could I explain it all to Jules? It was so complicated. Dagny’s back story, the Lycan and their history in the United States, Jake and his men, Johnson and Stewart and their family company and this whole vault

I had to go. JULIAN’S POV The bar was a dive, the kind of place where the lighting was dim enough to hide a man's shame. I stared into my third glass of cheap gin, the smell of stale cigarettes and floor wax clinging to my suit. I reached into my inner pocket and pulled out my wallet. I didn't look at the cash. I looked at the hidden flap where I kept the only thing I hadn’t sold. It was a polaroid of Elara from our third month of "marriage."

"I've told her she can spend my f*e on some new shoes, so she's cool." Scott laughed, but remained curious. "Can I check, sweetheart? Were you really into that just now, or are you just a bloody good actor?" Jules considered, tilted her head, and replied. "Put it this way, Scott. If and when you get another Darren, I'm up for it, definitely, very much so. Now, I need to get going. Those shoes won't buy themselves you know." As she reached the door, she turned to him. "Oh, yeah, one last question, as Columbo used to say. What's the TV screen in the consulting room for?"

Jose jolts then falls still. Juliana leans close, peering over him, but he's not moving; never will again. First stowing the gun in her bag, hunkering down, she fishes through his pockets. His wallet goes in her bag. A small notebook or maybe a diary, she tosses to one side. Her poisoner's herbology joins it. She pockets a small knife and a handful of change. The corpse ransacked, with the toe of a foot, giggling, she pushes what's left over the edge of the channel and into the fetid water.

It wasn’t easy for me to say them, but I had to, for my own sanity. A faint, satisfied smirk curled Jules’s lips. “Well, since we’re all being honest…” She reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and tapped the screen. “The press is already having a field day with this one.” My stomach tightened. “What are you talking about?” “Oh, didn’t you know?” Jules’s eyes glittered with joy. “I told them about your little side gig back in the day. Lady Red, wasn’t it?” It was like ice water pouring through my veins.

In her mind, I had killed Edmund and tried to pin it on her husband. That was why she tried to force me to confess. But if not Roger, then who? The lawyer. The lawyer was the problem! He had coached Roger on how to deal with the police. Roger had never called me. Yet in his confession, he claimed he phoned me to apologize. That meant the lawyer knew I had received that one final call. The police caught on quickly. The lawyer was taken straight into the interrogation room. And soon, the truth came to light. Edmund had been a young craftsman, making a modest living from traditional handicrafts. The income was meager and unstable. I wanted him to have something steady, something secure—like run

Theo's POV “Please… please give me some more time. I will pay you back,” the old fool's voice was low and shaky, his eyes already in tears. The warehouse floor was cold concrete. A single overhead light made circles of brightness and shadow. His face was bruised, his suit was dirty, and I must admit it looked good on him. I sat opposite him, my breathing calm, as my gaze moved to my wrist watch. “This is what happens when you steal from me. Taking money from my club and gambling it!” My voice was low but steady, as I walked towards him.

“Actually, we’re a little low on cash for the trip back. It’s all Jules’ fault. He saw a pretty redhead at the strip club and gave her all our money. He’s even talking about going there again today to say goodbye. He’s a show-off. Now, he doesn’t mind to run all the way back, but I know how dangerous it can be. I’ll send the money back as soon as we land on Baywood. You don’t have to worry about it.” The news about the strip club, Jules, and the redhead, seem to be stuck in my fucking throat. That has to be Vanessa, because there isn’t another redhead in that club. Fuck. I thought I hated the guy. Now, I want to kill him. “I’ll get you what you need,” I assure him. “Don’t worry about it.” I

The bartender was fat and balding, but seemed nice enough Jules opened her purse and pulled out her fake license. "I'd like two Shocktops, if you have it in bottles." He eyeballed the license with a suspicious expression. "What about yours?" he asked me.