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 cared

Well used…

Left-handed…

gives him

against right-handers. I've

Fast.

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

close, I smell

Sweat. Sour.

scent

Not excitement.

Fear.

me and suddenly I'm overreaching… off-balance… and I pull

but as he swings

bully forward, reaching

with my right hand and

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

swerves away from my right hand, my left hand is coming

the rib cage

Got you, you bastard…

her. The

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

my foot

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

arms

I go down...

on top of

…

as his blade

The rasp

metallic

Whose?

Mine…

grinning maniacally, he hovers, enjoying his moment,

point nipping at the vein, he reaches into his jacket, he

My Glock?

for my

use

the

on my elbows I swing round wildly, one

There are none.

up the barrel of my own fucking gun

Is this it?

all this time… this

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

for something I didn’t

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 me.

My throat tightens…

drips honey and contempt in equal measure… “A hero with

I know

eyes swing to its owner. So

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

smooth white shoulders and frames a face made up with emerald eyes

“Mitch?”

admit it. I

So does Baxter.

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

seen her dressed like this, not even in her

lifted, one leg a little curved to strike a pose. And with an eye on Baxter that

an open silver loop. She hooks a finger into the

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

Comments ()

0/255