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    James
    James
    James
    Ebook108 pages1 hour

    James

    By Glenn Gamble

    ()

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    About this ebook

    5 YEARS AFTER HIS BROTHER'S MURDER...

    James seeks revenge.

    Jim and Jessica narrowly escaped the city of Chicago with their lives only to be held at gun point once they reached Memphis.

    Now Jim is looking at everyone as a potential traitor when he realizes that someone within his organization has double-crossed him. Bridgeport syndicate man Don Carson sees a weakness and wants in on his south side empire --and Jim Money out.

    With his family, business, and his own life at risk, Jim's reunited with James who has now grown into a young adult man who hungrily seeks revenge in light of his brother's death 5 years ago.

    Jim wants to stay alive to keep his family safe.

    James seeks to avenge his brother's death.

    Can Jim survive the syndicate, double-crossers, kidnappers, and James's volitile behavior to keep his family and himself alive?

    JAMES IS THE FOURTH INSTALLMENT OF THE JIM MONEY STORIES.

    Here are the other stories in chronological order:

    Bon Appétit
    Escape
    On the Run
    James
    BUSTED: a Prequel to the Jim Money Stories

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

    Former professional poker player Glenn Gamble is an author from Chicago, IL who doesn't have one of those inspiring stories where he goes to the state penitentiary to discover his gift for writing amazing stories. Instead, he worked on his craft during long romantic dates at Starbucks and Panera Bread with his laptop and a story. His inspiration came from friends who encouraged him to pursue his dreams to become a writer. Without a prison sentence, Gamble has managed to pen A Thousand Chances, Bon Appetit, Escape, On the Run, James, and Busted; and is currently writing future installments of both the Jim Money and Darius Blaylock Poker Series.

    In his spare time, Gamble likes to watch Chicago Bulls games, drop twitter bombs from the sky, slam facebook with status updates, and bet on low-stakes rat and roach races taking place in various public housing project apartments across the United States.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGlenn Gamble
    Release dateOct 19, 2011
    ISBN9781465992413
    James
    Author

    Glenn Gamble

    Former professional poker player Glenn Gamble is an author from Chicago, IL who doesn't have one of those inspiring stories where he goes to the state penitentiary to discover his gift for writing amazing stories. Instead, he worked on his craft during long romantic dates at Starbucks and Panera Bread with his laptop and a story. His inspiration came from friends who encouraged him to pursue his dreams to become a writer. Without a prison sentence, Gamble has managed to pen A Thousand Chances, Bon Appetit, Escape, On the Run, James, and Busted; and is currently writing future installments of both the Jim Money and Darius Blaylock Poker Series. In his spare time, Gamble likes to watch Chicago Bulls games, drop twitter bombs from the sky, slam facebook with status updates, and bet on low-stakes rat and roach races taking place in various public housing project apartments across the United States.

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      Book preview

      James - Glenn Gamble

      James

      Glenn Gamble

      Chicago, Illinois, USA

      Smashwords Edition

      © 2011 Glenn Gamble

      www.GlennGamble.com

      All rights reserved.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      James © 2011 by Glenn Gamble

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Glenn Gamble.

      Discover other titles by Glenn Gamble at Smashwords.com:

      Bon Appétit

      Escape

      On the Run

      James

      A Thousand Chances

      1001: Car Wash

      Chapter 1

      Where’s it at, Jack?

      My name’s Jim, motherfucker.

      Jim felt a hard slap to his face. He grimaced from the painful impact as he sat in the backseat of the goons’ car with his hands tied together. I’m not gonna ask you again before I put a bullet in you.

      You’re going to do that anyway, but it just won’t be out here. So why should I tell you anything when one, I don’t know what you’re talking about; and two, you’re gonna kill me anyway.

      But we might let your woman live, if…

      Man, I don’t care what you do to her. I’ll shoot the bitch for you if you give me your gun.

      You rotten piece of shit, Jessica shouted. Fuck you, Jim.

      You did before I found out that you were a cannibal, remember?

      Both of you shut the fuck up, NOW, the goon shouted.

      Jim, I’m going to ask you one last time; where’s it at?

      Where’s what at?

      The guns.

      Guns? Jim asked. I got guns, but you didn’t have to taser me for them.

      Where are they?

      If you’d untie my arms and ankles, then I could find them for you.

      Where are they?

      Wait a minute? What’s in it for me?

      You’ll live.

      How will I know that you won’t kill me right now?

      Because Steve wants to kill you.

      Jim contemplated his options. He could tell them where the guns were and get killed on the spot, or he could stall and hope for an opportunity to present itself and escape alive. He calculated that he had a one-percent chance of surviving this ordeal. Having Jessica with him made it even more difficult. If it became necessary, he had no problem making her the sacrificial lamb, provided that he would escape alive. Sure he considered after all, she ran off with his best friend over a year ago—that no-good bitch.

      Where are they, Jim?

      They’re in this abandoned warehouse where I keep a lot of things that I don’t want anyone to find, Jim lied.

      How do we get there?

      Start by driving the car. I’ll tell you where to turn as we’re driving.

      ###

      Carla was parked at the end of the block just as Jim instructed her to do whenever she came over to visit. This was to allow her enough time to escape if anything were to happen to him. Thank goodness she listened to Jim this time. Just as she turned onto his block, she noticed a midnight blue sedan parked in front of Jim’s house. Then two men carried Jim to the backseat of the car. Jessica got in the front seat unharmed. This isn’t looking too good. They got Jimmy and Jessica. I could care less if Jessica gets killed. In fact, I wouldn’t mind killing that home wrecker myself, but I can’t let these guys kill Jim.

      She started the engine, but she turned the key too far and her alternator made a scraping sound. Calm down, she said to herself. Breathe, Carla, breathe. Carla started the engine once again and drove down the street behind the goons’ blue vehicle. She followed the car turn by turn from a half-block’s distance, occasionally allowing a car or two to get in front of her so she wouldn’t give any indication that she was following them. After a half-hour of driving, the blue car finally turned into an abandoned warehouse in a ghost-town outside of Memphis.

      ###

      Where’s it at?

      Untie me first, Jim demanded.

      I should just kill you right now and retrieve the guns myself.

      Good luck trying to find the motherfuckers in a 400,000 square foot facility, Jim shouted. Use your head for once. Untie me, and I’ll show you where the guns are.

      Quit fucking around and untie him, the driver demanded.

      Get out the car.

      It’s kind of hard for me to open the door handle when my wrists and ankles are bound with rope.

      If it were up to me, I’d pump your body with smoking hot lead, the goon threatened.

      And then Steve would kill both of you and have you on a rotisserie skewer burning the fat off your pathetic ass as he decides whether he’s going to slather barbeque sauce on your legs or eat you plain.

      A thunderous punch came down onto Jim’s face, Shut the fuck up and show me where it’s at.

      How can I when I’m still tied up?

      Untie him, the driver shouted. We don’t have time for this.

      I was gonna untie him until he got slick with his mouth.

      The goon started toward the knot on Jim’s wrist.

      You need to untie her first, Jim said.

      I don’t like what you trying to pull, dude. First you want to be untied, now you want her untied, too.

      Man, just untie the broad, the driver shouted. She can’t do anything while we’re both here.

      The goon reluctantly complied with the driver and untied Jim’s and Jessica’s legs. He still didn’t untie their wrists.

      That the best you gone get, Jack.

      This guy doesn’t honor my request or the driver’s request and he has the nerve to call me Jack? I get that he’s a goon who calls everyone Jack, but I really don’t like that street talk shit, or whatever they call it. I’m going to enjoy great pleasure in killing this coward motherfucker whenever I get the chance. First I must get loose from this rope, but how?

      If it weren’t for the circumstances Jim would admire the plush interior of the car, which included the velour seats and power door locks that were of no use to Jim. He looked at the armrest next to him anyway and noticed a razor blade that was left in the ashtray. Now he had to figure out how he would grab the blade with the menacing goon hawking over him.

      Get the fuck out the car and show me where it’s at.

      As the goon started toward the door, Jim grabbed blade with his right hand and quickly slid the blade between the rope and the top of his left wrist. The man opened the backdoor and pulled Jim out by the rope on his wrists. Jim could feel the sharp blade pinching and scraping against his skin, just enough to pierce it. The goon shut both his door and the back door while the driver stayed in the car.

      Let’s go, Jack.

      What about Jessica?

      She’s gonna stay behind and have a conversation with my buddy.

      Jim appeared emotionless, but felt an intense anger burning inside. He would have liked nothing more than to burn this talkative fuck. Nothing annoyed him more than a chatty man, not to mention that he was taking potshots at him. She’s pretty, Jack, the goon teased. "I’m

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