Hot Revenge Box Set 2

James

Michael looks me up and down. “You fit to walk?”

“I’ll manage.”

He gives a short jerk of his head and turns to Charlotte, arms outstretched. “You walk. I’ll carry Cara for you.”

She retreats, clutching Cara to herself, shrieking. “No!”

Michael steps back, holding up his palms. “Whoa… Calm down. It’s me. What do you think I’m going to do?”

She bursts into tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

He takes a step closer, moving carefully. “Charlotte, we have to leave. I’m not sure you can carry Cara and walk too.”

“No.” She swings her head in denial, tries to step out, then totters, Cara still tight to her chest.

Michael exchanges a look with me, shaking his head, then he moves in… “Hold on to Cara.” …. sweeping her up. His voice changes to a kind of fake yokel accent. “Come, Mr Frodo!” he says. “I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you.”

She gives him a watery smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that. You’ll be fine when we’ve got you home and rested up for a few days.”

Klempner shoves a knife into his belt. Another into the top of his boot. A handgun into a pocket. Then, picking up his SMG, “We need to get moving. I'll go to the front. Michael, you with Jenny in between. James, cover our backs.”

*****

Michael

My arms full of Charlotte, we clear the first flight of stairs to the corridor of ‘cells’. “Klempner, we should release the other women.”

the passage and

look. “Michael, we don't have time for that. Once we're

could have

in those cells represents his working stock. His property. He’ll not be eager to get rid of them. What’s your priority, Michael? We have to

screaming, panicking women, running around the place, creating chaos, trying to escape,

with the

downstairs somewhere. But I do have my axe. James, can

to his Cara with one hand, waving a gun

unslinging the axe from my shoulders, I aim… swing… and strike at the first padlock. The angle’s a little wrong. The blade bites in, but the lock doesn’t

aim, this

springs open and after a brief struggle with the bolt, I open the door

me. Dark-haired and eyed, fair-skinned, she would be beautiful if she weren’t so

gesture her, “Quick,

Cara. Wide-eyed, tearful, she jabbers at me, hands

door. “Você quer partir?

scrabbling up, dashes out, joining us, babbling at

embora. Você quer ajudar?” He jabs a finger to me… “Ajudem-no.”

nods, and this time, as I crash open the padlock, she darts inside, gesturing me on to the next. Half a minute

Klempner taps me on the shoulder. “Keep at it. I’ll see if I can find those keys.

grim prisons, flooding down the cells. A couple of boys emerge from one cell, ten, maybe eleven years old. Another, with eyes like blue ice and hair of Scandinavian platinum,

into the

tugs at his

não sei. Em toda parte. Eles

“What are you saying?”

scatter. Finchby can’t catch

the final door opens, disgorging

Gunshots…

and shouting, chaotically, the women scatter. Splitting and flowing one way and

yells, “Suba

the cell and he’d taken a beating. He may not want to admit it,

gun in your hand. Charlotte, give James yours. Arm around my neck. I need you to

gives me a dry