Vim Jamaica Avenue Novels & Stories

Vince turned back to Jimmy. “I need to find the Tailor of the True Cloth,” said Jimmy. “I’m told you can help me.” Vince kissed his teeth and said in a perfect Jamaican accent: “Try Saville Row.” His window began to close. Jimmy reached out and placed his hand on top of the pane to stop it. Vince bristled. Jimmy suddenly realised how dangerous this was, like putting your hand into a lion’s open jaws.

The luxurious private villa in the hills above Kingston, Jamaica, overlooked the glittering city lights and the Caribbean Sea beyond. The warm tropical night air was thick with the scent of sea salt, blooming frangipani, and jerk spices from a distant barbecue. Soft reggae drifted from hidden speakers, blending with the distant sounds of the city and the gentle crash of waves.

The address Jessica provided wasn't a warehouse in Red Hook. That had been misdirection in case I showed the letter to authorities. The real location came via text at 8:45 AM: "Change of plans. Penthouse suite, 432 Park Avenue. Top floor. Come alone. The doorman is expecting you." 432 Park Avenue. One of the most expensive residential buildings in Manhattan. Luxury apartments with panoramic city views. Security cameras everywhere. The last place I expected for a confrontation with a fugitive.

“It won’t happen again. I don’t want to lose you.” Amanda’s resistance softened. She lifted her hands, sliding them up along his sides and around his back, pulling him closer. “I love you,” she said quietly, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I love you more,” Ruby breathed, clinging to her. ****** Jamal was seated in the private lounge above his underground club and the air carried the faint scent of smoke and expensive liquor. Below him the night business moved with quiet efficiency, orders carried out without raised voices, money changing hands without receipts, lives redirected with a nod or a glance. His attention rested instead on the man kneeling a few steps away, trembling as J

"Come on. There's gotta be someplace on this street that's halfway decent. Tell me where we should go. My treat." Jia had no idea. This was Manhattan - before Thursday, the only reason she had ever come to this borough was to work at Richard's restaurant four days a week. Her mouth opened and closed again, knowing that Dolly wouldn't accept such a useless response, and the last thing she needed was for the woman to drag her up and down the place until she found some place that struck her fancy. "There's an arcade place with a pub attached two streets over. Mott Street." Jia looked around and found Jisu at her elbow, his twin right next to him looking down at her phone. "What?" she asked. "Ho

The door of the SUV was pulled opened for them and Catherine got in after which Ace followed behind. **** When they got to the private airport Catherine had to look well to make sure she was seeing correctly. "I can't get over how beautiful this jet is, Babe. We went to Jamaica with the golden one, this is white." She pointed out. Her head on Ace's laps and her eyes watching him. “Yes, there are five of them like this.” Ace responded while sipping on his glass of wine. ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

Killam had seen some knock down drag out cat fights a few times. Jabby had laughed and placed bets on who would win. If that didn't make him vote some girls out, what would? This job was getting better and better. He turned into the drive of the mansion Jabby kept on the north side of New York City. Cars were parked everywhere, and they ranged from expensive Ferraris to a few junkers he couldn't put a make or model on. The girls were arriving.

DAMIEN “We have to hit Yorkville on First Avenue. That old geezer in there did not pay last month’s kickback. He owes a thousand. Drake, you have Park Avenue, The Franklin Hotel. The owner’s name is Franco. He already paid. Just collect the invoice from him.”

[a text message] 466 Greenrose Circle East Elmhurst, Downpour 11730 the basement of the abandoned building I’m waiting here for you. Leave your flat now! The avalanche has moved! He waited with anticipation for the answer from Blaze. He had warned him in advance what he was going to do and couldn’t understand why they hadn't come yet. The silence gaping from his phone was unbearable. Jasmine was lying on the dirty mattress, her hair in dried blood. She was gagged but her eyes were open all the time. On the one hand, she should be grateful for saving her dignity and life, but on the other, she didn’t know what would happen next.

Enter what? I tried my name. J-A-S-M-I-N-E. Denied. I tried “Return.” Denied. Then, without thinking, I typed: DOOR 2. The door clicked. A breath. A mechanical sigh. And it opened for me. I should’ve turned around. But I didn’t. I stepped inside. — This time, the corridor was longer. The air wasn’t stale. It was alive—humid, electric, charged like the seconds before a thunderstorm. The hallway lights pulsed in rhythm with my steps.