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?”

off drops of gunk, then showing it to me. “What’re these for? They don’t look much use in a

cut the cord. And it looks as though I will

into a pocket. “Did no-one tell you at school that scissors are

Straining, mouth flung wide, she pants and heaves, and then, scarlet-faced, with a shriek of

… I move fast…

starts squalling loudly

recoils, heading for the door. “I’ll

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

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

huffs. “So that’s

levers herself forward. “Is

head, arms, legs… Eyes, toes,

out, hands outstretched. “Give her

casting around, looking for the cover I brought for

Crap!

I brought, which was soft and fine and warm, is now wet; cold and stinking. I pick

hurl the useless

“The baby’s healthy, isn’t

nothing to wrap her in. You and your monkey there just

the hem of the fleece he’s

from thirty-five

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

out sized as the garment is, I wrap the squalling, protesting Cara in it, tying the sleeves around her small body, then pass the bundled

everything, despite the cold and the filth and the gunmen standing

when after hours of gruelling pain and utter exhaustion, the baby is placed in her arms and

a rainbow over her face. Taking the fleece-enveloped Cara, she stares, as though not

twists back to James, still cradling her, holding up the small be-wrapped squaller. “I did it,

his lips cracking open, bleeding with the gesture. “So you did.” He touches his daughter’s face, stroking with a fingertip. “Hello,

Abruptly, Charlotte shudders…

through his swollen

the placenta being

“Not a chance.”

to have something

“Improvise.”

Bastard…

to let me have the clamps and

hand back and forth, as though deciding, then

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

a finger through the heap of towels and blankets stewing in the muck.

Baxter shifts. “What for?”

clamp and the

“Take what you need. No

I’m likely to

containing clamps, gauze and the bottle of spirit. The bag

then the clamps, 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 second one towards the

cord in both hands, I pull it tight and

me wants to heave. Another part tells

It’s just meat…

My head knows that there are no nerves in the cord, nothing to

and slippery in my hands; resists. I’m almost sawing through the

And it’s through…

two parts; a blue stub on Cara and the trailing tail still attached to the placenta as I swipe

naked skin to naked skin, caressing her, stroking her, murmuring to

unreadable. It’s hardly surprising. The magic of

stands back, leaning against

of the afterbirth slops to the floor and I

that.” Baxter speaks quickly. “Hickman, get the placenta. Put

What the hell…?

the fuck do you want

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