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

Well used…

Left-handed…

gives him

right-handers. I've

out. Hard. Fast. Teeth bared.

but I grab him by the arm. We

close, I smell

Sweat. Sour.

scent of

Not excitement.

Fear.

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

but as he swings away,

advantage, I bully forward, reaching for his blade, slashing

and he twists away, still grinning manically,

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

he swerves away from

rib cage and

Got you, you bastard…

her.

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

back, my

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

my arms wind-milling

I go down...

Baxter’s on top of

…

gasp as his blade

The rasp of

metallic

Whose?

Mine…

he hovers, enjoying his

reaches into his jacket, he

My Glock?

and aiming for my

not use the

got the balls

on my elbows I swing round wildly, one

There are none.

of my own fucking gun

Is this it?

all this time… this is how I

could have died over the years,

for something I

Live by the sword…

the mind works at these moments. The

think

the muzzle 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

its owner.

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

hair tumbles gloriously over smooth white shoulders and frames a face

“Mitch?”

it.

So does Baxter.

full of women

seen her dressed like this, not

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

an open silver loop. She hooks a finger

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