Hot Revenge Box Set 2

*****

She wails, straining against me, but at least now she’s warm. She’s lost that deadly chill, the clamminess to her flesh she had when we first found her.

And I think hope has eased the pain for her. She still screams as her body spasms, but now she sounds more like ‘my Charlotte’. The screams are of defiance and determination, not of hopelessness and fear.

And she’s mad…

Angry as hell…

I sit, leaning back against the wall, Charlotte cradled in my arms. She, lying between my knees, is supported against my chest. Her rib cage pressed to mine, her heartbeat thumps through me. And the breath in her saturated lungs rattles as she breathes.

When it really comes down to it, what can I do to help her? Other than keep her warm? Help her feel safe? While she gets on with doing what women have done as long as there have been women; delivering our children.

She relaxes back against me, panting as her most recent contraction eases.

I curve around, kiss her cheek. “How do you feel now?”

Klempner glances back.

She struggles to turn, head twisting round as far as she can towards mine. “Feel?” she screeches. “How the fuck do you think I feel? It’s like someone's trying to scoop out my fucking vagina with a fucking soup ladle!”

Klempner chuckles and turns away. “That’s my girl.”

*****

Klempner stirs. “Michael, time's up.” He jerks his chin up to where the indicator on the camera is blinking red.

Crap…

“Got my hands full here. You're just going to have to hold them off.”

“Wonderful.” He leans cautiously out, then yanks back as from outside, the sound of a shot ricochets along the corridor.

He exchanges glances with Charlotte. “Jenny, this is a good time to keep doing what you’re doing.”

whisper close by her. “Babe, push.

“I am fucking pushing…”

*****

Richard

is comforting in

understand your concern, Mr Haswell, but be assured, your wife is in the best possible hands. We will try

“But what…?”

a few days delay in delivery can make life more comfortable for the baby. But…” He brandishes a forefinger… “If that proves impossible, the baby still has a very good chance indeed. Babies born preterm at this age have a 95% survival

Elizabeth…

sits in an armchair, gulping down a glass of

should reduce the contractions. If we’re lucky, it will stop them altogether.

*****

James

painfully, I arrive

overnight; the other end with cars and a couple of skinny cats squabbling over something they’re

visitors to the local restaurants, bowling alley and cinemas. It could use

silent save for the distant rumble of traffic, my footsteps echo into the gloom. In

Are you cold, Jade-Eyes?

They’re coming for you…

And Cara…

time to get to

think I’ve found it; a slip of paper tucked under the wiper

to sell your car? We

it up, tossing it away. Then I scan the rank; a dozen or fifteen cars, and every fucking windscreen has a

along, working my way through them,

lose count. twenty, thirty,

thigh, combining forces with the bruises

comes to

… I’m not alone.

the gang again. My back turned, they’re