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...

inches. Well cared

Well used…

Left-handed…

gives

practice against right-handers. I've done

Fast. Teeth

arm. We grapple. His blade to my

I

Sweat. Sour.

scent of

Not excitement.

Fear.

I'm overreaching… off-balance… and

for his neck but as he swings away, my fist

following up on my advantage, I bully forward, reaching for his

hand and he twists away, still grinning manically, but he doesn't

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

Just well-practised. As he swerves away from my right hand, my

rib cage

Got you, you bastard…

her. The Indian

apparently blind to me and Baxter, she charges

back, my foot

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

arms

I go down...

Baxter’s on top of

…

gasp as his blade slices

rasp

The metallic tang

Whose?

Mine…

enjoying his moment, the knife

nipping at the vein, he reaches into his

My Glock?

aiming for my forehead, he

not use

got the balls

up on my elbows I swing round wildly, one way

There are none.

of my

Is this it?

time… this

Of all the ways I could have died over the years, I’m

something I

Live by the sword…

the mind works at these moments. The brain does odd

don’t think I’m

the muzzle of the gun looms close and huge. The rest of the world vanishes around

My throat tightens…

you just the real man.” The voice is sultry, smooth, and drips honey and contempt in equal measure… “A hero with a gun and a

know that

its owner.

matching skirt just clears the crotch and the zip-front leather vest

frames a face made up with emerald

“Mitch?”

it. I

So does Baxter.

It might have been full of women offering

seen her dressed like this,

to strike a pose. And with

an open silver loop. She hooks a finger into the loop and tooth by tooth, slides the

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

Comments ()

0/255