Hot Revenge Box Set 2

*****

James

The message from Charlotte’s abductors…

Finchby…

Baxter…

… replays in my head…

Marsh Street under Barnbridge Road overpass 9pm

Bring the money

No police. No other people or she dies

If late she dies. So does the baby

Brandy and rage burn inside me.

The bag containing the ransom money swings heavy in my hand. I'm the decoy and at some level, I know I may not come out of this alive. Klempner's Kevlar vest gives me a little comfort, but it’s the fury inside that warms me against fast falling temperatures.

I should be afraid…

But I’m not.

Jade-Eyes…

My beautiful Jade-Eyes…

Cara… Your gift to

Charlotte, my Virgin, we

constantly pursued her, ruling her, robbed her of what she deserves. None of it her fault, she has simply been the survivor of everything life has

I change any

No. Nothing.

has made her what she is. Strong. Fearless. Resourceful. Even in the dire situation she’s in, imprisoned in her cell, racked with pain, coughing up green slime, she found the way

coming for

And me?

I’m the decoy.

the merest hush of a breeze. High cloud makes a haze of the stars but does little to blanket in what passed for the heat of the day. The streets are glazed to a

point, near enough to get there quickly. Far enough that, hopefully, they

the cold is keeping people indoors and, after all, Christmas is coming. Most folks will

brightly lit, glowing with warmth and welcome, sparkling with fairy lights, dressed with spray-on snow and Santa, Please Stop Here signs. In my own home, we never finished the trimming up. Charlotte’s abduction killed

I pass by.

zone and passing into more uncertain territory. This end of Marsh Street is

it was built before the main highways were developed, a remnant of the old town, under the

least in pairs and the other emergency services are cautious. The area is noted for hoax calls of fire or medical emergency followed by muggings for cash and drugs, and attacks on

I'm feeling windy about

Better than the alternative.

to

reach my destination. The road lies straddled by two great concrete supports for the overpass, dim under inadequate sodium lighting. From the road above, moisture trickles down, streaking stark concrete walls white before settling to iced

me, on the overpass, late evening traffic grumbles past. But here below,

“Hello?”

echoes briefly,

here.” I

Nothing…