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

Well used…

Left-handed…

that gives

right-handers. I've done

Hard. Fast. Teeth bared. Pupils

through, but I grab him by the arm. We grapple.

close, I

Sweat. Sour.

sour scent of

Not excitement.

Fear.

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

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

I bully forward, reaching for

his chest with my right hand and he twists away,

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

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

rib

Got you, you bastard…

it’s her.

me and Baxter, she charges between us and I twist away

staggering back, my

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

arms wind-milling

I go down...

on

…

My gasp as his blade

The rasp of shredding

The metallic

Whose?

Mine…

me, grinning maniacally, he hovers, enjoying his moment,

nipping at the vein, he reaches

My Glock?

aiming for my forehead, he

use

got the balls

my elbows I swing round wildly, one way or the other, searching for

There are none.

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

Is this it?

this is

Of all the ways I could have died over

for something I didn’t actually

Live by the sword…

the mind works at these moments. The brain

don’t think I’m

the gun looms close and huge. The rest of the world vanishes around me. My peripheral vision

My throat tightens…

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

know that

eyes swing to its

her close to six feet in the spiked heels. The matching skirt just clears the crotch and the zip-front leather vest hugs a narrow waist

shoulders and frames a face made up with

“Mitch?”

it. I

So does Baxter.

been full of women offering

I have never seen her dressed like this, not even in

to strike a pose.

hooks a finger into the loop and tooth by

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