Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Chapter 11

*****

 

Michael

I recognise the face of James’ guard, the one they’re calling Hickman. I’ve seen it before in the photo Klempner identified; Baxter’s henchman.

He shoves James towards us, James shooting him a look that would knock flies from the air, before squatting down by Charlotte. He runs a finger over her cheek. “Sorry we took so long to get here.”

She returns the gesture. “They’ve hurt you.”

James’ brows rise. His head tilts. “They’ve hurt me?”

I struggle out from behind her. “James, take my place, support her. I need a look at what’s happening.”

He manoeuvres to sit behind Charlotte, his back against the wall, kissing her rank hair as he supports her against himself.

And now, kneeling between her open legs and with a decent view, I can see Cara’s head is all but out. “I think one more good push will do it, Babe.”

Baxter waves the barrel of his pistol at Klempner. “On your knees. Hands behind your head.”

Klempner gives him a slow look then drops to the ground, fingers clasped at the back of his neck.

“Stannis, you keep him there.” Baxter jabs a finger at the other guard who moves to stand by Klempner, gun muzzle pressed to his temple. Then he nods Hickman to my bag and Klempner’s. “Check them out. See what’s inside.”

He tips out Klempner’s first; his mobile armoury tumbling to the floor with a clatter. Baxter kicks guns, knives and rope to the far side of the cell, out of Klempner’s range.

Then he looks him up and down. “Larry, have you put on weight?”

Klempner adopts a pained expression. “I’m wearing rather more clothes than usual.”

Baxter cocks a brow. “I'm not sure about that outfit as a sartorial statement.”

Lips pressed tight, Klempner casts eyes sidelong, then back again. “What's your gripe with me, Baxter?”

“You have to ask? More than twenty years I worked for you, and you left me behind like I didn’t matter. Abandoned me to the cops like some piece of rubbish.”

“The police were coming. I had about a minute to get out of sight. When I last saw you, you were unconscious after you'd let a complete amateur take you out. As I left, you were nowhere to be seen. What was I supposed to think? You’d gone. I assumed you’d run for it.”

“No. I hadn’t. I’d just crawled into the shadows while I got my head back. You didn’t even look. You walked out and you kept walking.”

“Yes, because I didn’t know you were there. You couldn’t have called out or something? I could see blue lights flashing. What was I supposed to do? Mount a search? As far as I was concerned, you’d gone.”

Baxter sneers. “Make your excuses, Larry. You owe me. You’re going to pay.”

“I owe you nothing. I never did. And besides, you have the money.”

Baxter rocks on his heels. “Money’s not everything, Larry. Money’s not everything.”

He turns from Klempner, dismissing him, nods to Hickman, then to my rucksack. “Turn it out. Let’s see what’s in his bag of tricks.”

I try to interrupt, to stop what I can already see happening… “No… don’t…”

But it’s too late. Clean towels and wraps tumble out, dropping into the slops on the floor, no longer fresh and sweet-smelling but wet and fouled.

“Was that necessary?”

Baxter smirks, poking through the heap with the end of a boot, wiping them further into the dirt. “Can’t be too careful, can we. Who knows what you have in there?”

“What I had in there were the basics for a young woman to safely deliver her baby. Now…” I poke through the pile, trying to find something useable…

Christ…

“… What the hell am I supposed to do with this lot?”

showing it to me. “What’re these for? They

In case I have to cut the cord. And it looks as though I will have to cut the

“Did no-one tell

she pants and

… I move fast…

a small bloody package drops into my hands then starts squalling loudly as Cara protests her rude entry

door. “I’ll catch you

surprised. “What’s wrong? You’re not bothered by a

a lip at the mess on the ground. “You handle

that’s what he’s made

levers

the briefest of inspections: head, arms, legs… Eyes, toes, fingers… “She’s fine. Everything where it should

reaching out, hands outstretched. “Give

I’m casting around, looking for the cover

Crap!

is now wet; cold and stinking. I pick it

hurl the useless

says Baxter. “The baby’s healthy, isn’t it?

monkey there just soaked the wrap

his temple. “Here, use this.” From his kneeling position, he tugs the hem of the fleece he’s wearing… my fleece… up and over his head. He tosses

to you coming from thirty-five degrees and

“It’s thirty-seven degrees and a hundred per cent humidity where she’s

sized as the garment is, I wrap the squalling, protesting Cara in it, tying

filth and the gunmen standing guard over us, Charlotte's face lights

see it. That transformation that happens with a woman, when after hours of gruelling pain and utter exhaustion, the baby is placed in her arms and her face illuminates. Young or old, plain or pretty, in that

smile spreads like a rainbow over her face. Taking the fleece-enveloped Cara, she stares, as though not believing what

up the small be-wrapped squaller. “I did it, Mas... James. I gave you your

her, his lips cracking open, bleeding with the gesture. “So you

Abruptly, Charlotte shudders…

his swollen face,

“It’s okay. It’s just the placenta being ejected.” Snapping

“Not a chance.”

to have something to

“Improvise.”

Bastard…

to let me have

rocks head and hand back and forth,

touch, a strange braided alien-looking thing; thick, meaty and blue, pulsates in my hand, the pulse dying away

a finger through the heap of towels and

Baxter shifts. “What for?”

the clamp and the

what you need.

likely to be

plastic bag containing clamps, gauze and the bottle of spirit. The bag is still sealed, as I packed it, and

I run a quick mental re-run to the How-To videos I watched, then carefully fix the first clamp in place, over the cord close by Cara. Then, just as carefully, I clip

the cord in both hands, I pull

heave. Another part tells me not to

It’s just meat…

nerves in the cord, nothing to cause pain to either Charlotte or

thick, with a gristly texture and slippery in my hands; resists. I’m almost sawing through the thing with my teeth. But there’s not

And it’s through…

still attached to the placenta as I swipe

on her belly, naked skin to naked skin, caressing her, stroking

magic of seeing your child born. The sheer savagery

back, leaning against the wall,

and I scoop it up,

quickly. “Hickman, get the

What the hell…?

the fuck do you want

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