Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Chapter 15

Klempner

Although I can hear chaos from down the stairs, up here now, it’s quiet. There’s no-one in the dance room.

In the pool room, the only sound is the crunching of glass under my boots. I carry on to Finchby’s office.

All empty?

It seems so.

The time?

Time to go.

Except… as I’m about to turn and leave a girl, I see her; barely a teenager, some variety of Asian, Indian perhaps. Streaming tears, she skitters out from behind the desk, making for the kitchen.

I follow her and she cringes back into the corner. I offer my hand. “I’m not going to hurt you. You have to leave.”

She babbles at me in I’ve-no-idea-what language, then abruptly, her face swings up to mine and fingers outstretched, leaps up at me, clawing at my face. Reflexively, I jerk back, and she bolts past me and out, back the way I came.

Fuck!

I dash after her, but in the few seconds, she’s gone, vanished.

Where did she go?

Out?

Or somewhere deeper inside?

I check my watch… Three minutes…

Christ!

I have to find her… If she’s on the stairwell, perhaps I’ll hear her. I turn for the bar, heading for the stairs up and down, and there…

Fuck.

Baxter.

I reach for my Glock… And it’s not there.

Damn… When did I put it down?

Baxter flashes brows. And the knife in his hand. “Going somewhere?”

“I was planning on leaving.” I slip the knife from my belt. “Your friend Finchby has already left the building. I believe the money may be with him.”

“I’m not going to weep over Finchby. And I didn't do it for the cash. Well… mainly not for the cash. And I have my half anyway.”

We circle, eyeball to eyeball.

Make the first move?

Wait for him?

I move slowly, watching for the twitch of the hand. The nudge of the shoulder. The tell that he's going to stop talking and...

He slashes out… moves fast…

But it’s a feint and we both know it, calculated to draw a reaction from me.

Testing me…

My speed…

My reactions…

Younger than me...

How much by?

Ten years?

His knife...

maybe eight inches. Well cared

Well used…

Left-handed…

that gives

practice against right-handers.

Fast.

arm. We grapple. His blade to my throat. My hand locked

I smell

Sweat. Sour.

scent of

Not excitement.

Fear.

away, dancing back from me and suddenly I'm overreaching… off-balance… and I pull

I lash for his neck but as he swings away, my fist lands in his

bully forward, reaching for his blade,

at his chest with my right hand and he

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

As he swerves away from

the rib cage

Got you, you bastard…

her.

for the exit, apparently blind to me and Baxter, she charges between us and I twist away to avoid

staggering back, my

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

my arms

I go down...

on top

…

as his

The rasp of shredding

The metallic

Whose?

Mine…

his

he reaches into his

My Glock?

my

use

the

swing round wildly, one way or

There are none.

up the barrel of my own fucking gun and to Baxter’s

Is this it?

this time… this

I could have died over the years, I’m taken out by a

for something I didn’t

Live by the sword…

at these moments. The

think

and huge. The rest of

My throat tightens…

in equal measure… “A hero with a gun and

know that

swing to its owner. So do

six feet in the spiked heels. The matching skirt just

tumbles gloriously over smooth white shoulders and frames a face made up with emerald

“Mitch?”

admit it. I

So does Baxter.

be a brothel. It might have been full of women offering their all. But nothing compares

like this,

stands tall, chin lifted, one leg a little curved to strike a pose.

finger into the loop and tooth by

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255