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 used…

Left-handed…

gives

practice against right-handers. I've done

Fast. Teeth bared.

and he follows through, but I grab him by the arm. We grapple. His blade

I

Sweat. Sour.

scent

Not excitement.

Fear.

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

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

bully forward, reaching for his blade, slashing out with my

chest with my right hand and he twists away, still

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

from my right hand, my left hand is coming

the rib cage and

Got you, you bastard…

her. The

for the exit, apparently blind to me and Baxter, she charges between

back, my

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

my arms wind-milling

I go down...

Baxter’s on top

…

gasp as his blade slices across

The rasp of

metallic tang of

Whose?

Mine…

he hovers, enjoying his moment, the knife

nipping at the vein, he reaches into his jacket, he takes out

My Glock?

aiming for my forehead,

use

the

on my elbows I swing round wildly, one

There are none.

up the barrel of my

Is this it?

time… this is how

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

for something I didn’t

Live by the sword…

mind works at these moments. The brain does odd things

think I’m

of the gun looms close and huge. The rest of the world

My throat tightens…

real man.” The voice is sultry, smooth, and drips honey and contempt in

I know that

swing to its owner.

skirt

frames a face

“Mitch?”

admit it. I

So does Baxter.

been full of women offering their all. But nothing

I have never seen her dressed like this,

curved to strike a pose. And with an eye on Baxter that dares him to do

open silver loop. She hooks a finger into the loop and tooth

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