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…

Your gift

the day I met Charlotte, my Virgin, we have helter-skeltered from one crisis to

has constantly pursued her, ruling her, robbed her of what she deserves. None of it her fault, she

change any

No. Nothing.

she is. Strong. Fearless. Resourceful. Even in the dire situation she’s in, imprisoned in her cell, racked with pain, coughing up

coming for

And me?

I’m the decoy.

a haze of the stars but does little to blanket in what passed for the heat of the day. The

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

late, but the cold is keeping people indoors and, after all, Christmas is coming. Most folks will be with friends, at

pass windows 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 off any thoughts of celebration and our tree stands

I pass by.

safety of the residential zone and passing into more uncertain territory. This end of Marsh Street is not a good

once the boundary of the City, it was built before the main highways were developed, a remnant of the old town, under the overpass which carries the modern road to Barnbridge. It's a risky

cautious. The area is noted for hoax calls of fire or medical emergency followed by muggings for cash and drugs,

admit, I'm feeling windy about being

Better than the alternative.

to do

the overpass, dim under inadequate sodium lighting. From the road above, moisture trickles down, streaking stark concrete walls white before settling to iced sculptures

the overpass, late evening traffic grumbles past. But here below, all is

“Hello?”

echoes briefly,

here.” I

Nothing…