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.”

double-takes at me, then looking along the

me a startled look. “Michael, we don't have time for that. Once we're out,

Finchby and Baxter could have murdered all the witnesses. Gotten rid of the

property. He’ll not be eager to get rid of

running around the place, creating chaos, trying to escape, is likely to

to the man with the highest bid. Get

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

to him, clinging to his Cara with one hand, waving

unslinging the axe from my shoulders, I aim… swing… and strike at the first padlock. The angle’s a

my aim, this time

after a brief struggle with

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

gesture her, “Quick,

Cara.

door. “Você quer partir? Venha conosco.” He throws a glance to me.

draws a breath, then scrabbling up, dashes

Você quer ajudar?” He jabs a finger

the padlock, she darts inside, gesturing me on to the next. Half a minute later, she

the next. Klempner taps me on the shoulder. “Keep at it.

white-skinned, coffee-skinned. Asian, Caucasian, Afro. Few seem to share a language, but all come bursting from their 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, is maybe

with the keys, thrusting them into the hands of the first woman we released. “Abre as

at his sleeve.

parte. Eles não podem

“What are you saying?”

telling them to scatter. Finchby can’t catch all of

final door

Gunshots…

spitting brick-dust. I duck, and screaming and shouting, chaotically, the women scatter. Splitting and flowing one

“Suba

as he arrived at the cell and he’d taken a beating. He may not want to admit it, but he’s struggling

gun in your hand. Charlotte, give James

gives me a dry