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

right-handers. I've done

Fast. Teeth bared. Pupils

by the arm. We grapple. His blade to my

I

Sweat. Sour.

sour scent of

Not excitement.

Fear.

I'm overreaching… off-balance…

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

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

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

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

away from my right hand,

the rib cage and

Got you, you bastard…

her. The

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

my

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

my arms

I go down...

Baxter’s on top of

…

as his

rasp of shredding

metallic

Whose?

Mine…

grinning maniacally, he hovers, enjoying his moment, the knife poised

nipping at the vein, he reaches into his jacket,

My Glock?

and aiming for my

use the

the balls

wildly, one way

There are none.

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

Is this it?

time… this is how

all the ways I could have died over the

for something I didn’t actually

Live by the sword…

these moments. The brain does odd things under

don’t think I’m

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

My throat tightens…

and drips honey and contempt in equal measure… “A hero with a gun and a knife against an unarmed man. And he’s

I know that

to its owner. So

set her close to six feet in the spiked heels. The matching skirt just

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

“Mitch?”

it.

So does Baxter.

brothel. It might have been full of women

her dressed like this, not even

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

finger into the loop and tooth

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

Comments ()

0/255