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?”

shaking off drops of gunk, then showing

have to cut the cord. And

“Did no-one tell you

flung wide, she pants and heaves, and then, scarlet-faced,

… I move fast…

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

recoils, heading for the door. “I’ll catch you later.

You’re not

mess on the

huffs. “So that’s what he’s made

alright?” Charlotte levers herself

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

reaching out, hands outstretched. “Give her

I’m casting around, looking for the cover I brought

Crap!

wet; cold and stinking. I pick it up, hoping…

the useless thing

wrong?” says Baxter. “The baby’s healthy, isn’t it? It’s making

her in. You and your monkey there just soaked

this.” From his kneeling position, he tugs the hem of the fleece he’s

to you coming from thirty-five degrees and

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

the squalling, protesting Cara in it, tying the sleeves around her small body, then

and the filth and the

gruelling pain and utter exhaustion, the baby is placed in her arms and her face illuminates. Young or old, plain or pretty, in that moment, every woman becomes

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

James, still cradling her, holding up the small be-wrapped

with the gesture. “So you did.” He touches

Abruptly, Charlotte shudders…

his swollen face, looks panic-stricken.

hold up a palm. “It’s okay. It’s just the placenta being ejected.” Snapping fingers up

“Not a chance.”

something to cut the cord

“Improvise.”

Bastard…

let me

and forth, as though deciding, then smirks.

the touch, a strange braided alien-looking thing; thick,

towels and blankets

Baxter shifts. “What for?”

and the surgical

flat, “Take what

likely to be

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

How-To videos I watched, then carefully fix

both hands, I pull it tight and

wants to heave. Another part tells

It’s just meat…

that there are no nerves in the cord, nothing to cause pain to either Charlotte or Cara. But I’m chewing through living flesh and

sawing through the thing with my teeth. But there’s not too much mess.

And it’s through…

attached to the placenta as I swipe blood

naked skin to

unreadable. It’s hardly surprising. The magic of seeing your child born. The sheer savagery

stands back, leaning against

of the afterbirth slops to the floor and I scoop

do that.” Baxter speaks quickly. “Hickman, get the placenta. Put it in the cool

What the hell…?

thoughts. “What the fuck do you want

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