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...

eight inches.

Well used…

Left-handed…

gives him an

against right-handers. I've done

out. Hard. Fast. Teeth

the arm. We grapple. His

I

Sweat. Sour.

scent of

Not excitement.

Fear.

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

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

forward, reaching for

at his chest with my right hand and he twists away, still grinning manically, but he doesn't

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

I’m not. Just well-practised. As he swerves away from my right hand, my left hand is coming

rib cage and

Got you, you bastard…

it’s her. The Indian

Baxter, she charges between us and I twist away to

staggering back, my foot skids

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

arms wind-milling for

I go down...

Baxter’s on top

…

My gasp as his blade slices

The rasp of

metallic

Whose?

Mine…

he hovers, enjoying his moment, the

reaches into his jacket,

My Glock?

aiming for my forehead, he backs

not use the

got the

on my elbows I swing round wildly, one way

There are none.

up, I’m staring straight up the barrel of my own fucking gun and to Baxter’s

Is this it?

time… this is how I

with irritation. Of all the ways I could have died over the years, I’m taken out

I

Live by the sword…

works at these moments. The brain does odd things under

don’t think

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

My throat tightens…

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

know

swing to its owner. So

The matching skirt just clears the crotch and the zip-front leather vest hugs a narrow waist and

white shoulders and frames a face made up with emerald eyes painted Goth-dark

“Mitch?”

admit it.

So does Baxter.

might be a brothel. It might have been full of women offering their

her dressed like this, not even in her ‘professional’

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

zipper tag dangles, an open silver loop. She hooks a finger into the loop and tooth by

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