Rumble Fish Rusty James Novels & Stories

“Nice to meet you too Aurelia, James said a lot about you and we are happy to teach you the little we can” James chuckled and muttered “little?” Rummie smiled, she stretched out her hand for a handshake and I did the same. “You can call me Rum and him? You can call him whatever you like but I personally call him Bluff” She winked at him and I noticed Ronnie had his fist folded in anger but his smoke was still plastered on his face. Trying to cover his anger, but he's failing woefully. I folded my lips to stop myself from laughing, This is sure going to be a fun session.

A grunt comes from him. 'He’s laughing at me', the thought passes, and I look at him. I can see amusement in the way his thick mustache shifts. That thick, dark beard and the bald head make him seem threatening, but there’s no mistaking that he’s finding some fun in my fumbling. I haven’t been this bad at hiding nervousness since I was a pup, but with this beast, I can barely think straight. I blame it on the events. Not on the way his ruby eyes are taking in every single piece of me, grazing over even the tiniest details on my skin.

James' voice sounded beside me and at the same time his hand pulled me along. I resisted his pull at first but then, an unexpected person showed up from the inside of the upfront tunnel. It was Mr. Pompous. The moment his eyes made contact with mine from the distance, he halted sharply. "Fvck!" James cursed and opened fire at him with the pistol. Mr. Pompous was fast enough to roll away. "C'mon..." James pulled me and this time, I went with him. My mental state was in utter mess and that's the only action I flowed with.

James grumbled with his hands on his hips. "Obviously they're from the elite," Jay said, patting his knee before straightening up, "but not corporate rivals." "Wait, what makes you think that?" Jay brought his finger closer to James' nose. Immediately, his friend widened his eyes and brushed him off harshly. James coughed. The lip balm's effect disappeared, and it was completely pale. "Crazy! Damn! Who is that crazy person who used cheap powder to hunt you down?" James scoffed.

“It’s super cute. That poor little chicken. It’s adorable that they made her a wheelchair, so now she can walk like the other chickens. And not just walk but race around too. Go, little chicken, go!” Lancer pretends not to be impressed, but I can tell he likes the video. He’s a big softie, just like Ransom, who actually brushes a tear out of his eye. Marcus and Atlas cheer the chicken on, then rib Ransom about the eye leakage. James , John, and Matt all keep their emotions in check, though, so they don’t get poked fun at for having feelings. Not that Ransom cares. He’s the kind of guy who could sit there, cry a bucketload, and still be the toughest motherfarger you’ve ever met. Man tears are

But my ribs still screamed with every breath, every movement, every goddamn shift in position. And my arm was still trapped in this fucking cast. I stood at the window of Jameson's bedroom—our bedroom now, I supposed—watching the sun rise over the compound. Today was the day. The coordinated strike against the Russians and Isaac. And I was stuck here. Useless. "You're pacing again," Jameson said from behind me. I turned to find him already dressed in tactical gear, checking his weapons with practiced efficiency. He looked every inch the mafia boss preparing for war—dangerous, focused, lethal.

Who taught others how to make burner accounts to post anonymously? "Every piece of verified evidence you provide means moving your name one place up the defendant list. At 5:00 pm, submissions close. "The person whose name is still at the very bottom will be responsible for 12.5 million dollars in compensation and all associated criminal charges." I scanned the faces in front of me—ashen one second, then flickering with something menacing the next—and added, "Good luck."

He chuckled to himself as he sat in his office, thinking that Bandit finally got his wish. A knock fell on the open door and Jake looked up. “Yes?” “It’s time, Prez,” Weasel said. In the parking lot in front of the bar, they all mounted their bikes. Weasel picked James up and settled him on the bike in front of him. He’d gotten his own vest, the name ‘Grim’ stitched to the chest and ‘Blood of Wrath’ on the back. It was a struggle to get him to take it off, but on the inside, Jake was proud that James had accepted club life so easily.

I laughed coldly as I made my move, throwing myself at him so that he landed on the floor with a thumb, my fists landing blow after blow to his face until I felt someone grab me and pull me off him. "Sorry sweetheart, I brought back-up," James chuckled. I struggled against the two people who had hold of my arms, but the best I could do was a land a kick to their shins causing the both of them to fall to floor in front of me, hissing in pain but not relenting the grip they had on me. "You scared of one she-wolf?" I mocked him. "Only when I know who they really are and what they're truly capable of," James retorted sharply and I watched him as he pulled a gun from the back of his trousers. Of

Romeo gets ready to kick him when he screams; "Wait, I can help you". "There is no fucking way you can help me, you motherfucker". Romeo says disgustingly and kicks him in the abdomen. "I can help you nail James ". He said with screams, amidst his blurry vision. The sound of James' name makes Romeo halt. "How can you help me?" Romeo asks with a bitter tone. "I have a CD containing all his transactions." He cried. Romeo looked at Maria, as if for approval of what Ashking was saying and she nodded yes.