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?”

floor, shaking off drops of gunk, then showing it to

cord. And it looks as though

a pocket. “Did no-one

arching back against James. Straining, mouth flung wide, she pants and heaves, and then, scarlet-faced, with a shriek of triumph, she

… I move fast…

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

the door. “I’ll catch you

not bothered by a

mess on the ground. “You handle it.”

that’s what

levers

arms, legs… Eyes, toes, fingers…

hands outstretched. “Give

casting around, looking for the cover

Crap!

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

the useless thing into

Baxter. “The baby’s healthy, isn’t it? It’s making enough

to wrap her in. You and your monkey

at 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

happened to you coming from thirty-five degrees and sixty per

degrees and a hundred per

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

despite the cold and the filth and the gunmen standing guard

and utter exhaustion, the baby is placed in

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, Mas... James. I gave you

with the

Abruptly, Charlotte shudders…

through his swollen face, looks panic-stricken.

the placenta being ejected.” Snapping fingers up at Baxter.

“Not a chance.”

have something to

“Improvise.”

Bastard…

let me have the clamps and

rocks head and hand back and forth, as

braided alien-looking thing; thick, meaty and blue,

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

Baxter shifts. “What for?”

clamp and the surgical

hesitates, eyes flat, “Take what you need.

to

who moves to 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 the

over my hands, and 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

both hands, I pull

wants to heave. Another part tells me

It’s just meat…

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

through the thing with my

And it’s through…

a blue stub on Cara and the trailing tail still attached to the

on her belly, naked skin to naked

hardly surprising. The magic of seeing your child born. The sheer savagery

leaning

bloody mass of the afterbirth slops to the floor and I

quickly. “Hickman, get the placenta. Put it

What the hell…?

echoes my thoughts. “What the fuck do you want

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