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 cared

Well used…

Left-handed…

Thinks that gives him

practice against right-handers.

out. Hard. Fast. Teeth bared. Pupils

but I grab him by the arm. We

I

Sweat. Sour.

scent of

Not excitement.

Fear.

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

for his neck but as he swings away,

advantage, I bully forward, reaching for his blade,

and he twists

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

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

rib cage and

Got you, you bastard…

her.

to me and Baxter, she charges between us and I twist away to avoid slicing

back, my foot skids on

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

my arms

I go down...

Baxter’s on top of

…

My gasp as his

The rasp

metallic tang of

Whose?

Mine…

his moment, the knife poised at

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

My Glock?

for my

not use the

got the balls for

up on my elbows I swing round wildly, one way

There are none.

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

Is this it?

this time… this

could have died

for something I

Live by the sword…

at these moments. The brain does odd

don’t think I’m

and huge. The

My throat tightens…

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

know that

swing to its owner. So do

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

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

“Mitch?”

admit it.

So does Baxter.

full of women offering their all. But nothing compares to Mitch in all her

I have never seen her dressed like this, not

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

dangles, an open silver loop. She hooks a finger into the loop and

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