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

Well used…

Left-handed…

gives

right-handers.

stabs out. Hard. Fast. Teeth

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

I

Sweat. Sour.

sour scent of

Not excitement.

Fear.

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

his neck but as he swings away, my fist lands

bully forward, reaching for his blade, slashing out

his chest with my right hand and he twists away,

The other knife...

Ambidextrous?

Just well-practised. As he swerves away from my right

the rib cage

Got you, you bastard…

it’s her. The

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

back, my

Drinks slops?

Blood?

In slow motion...

my arms wind-milling for

I go down...

on

…

gasp as his blade slices across

rasp of shredding

The metallic tang

Whose?

Mine…

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

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

My Glock?

aiming for my forehead,

use the

got the balls

swing round wildly,

There are none.

staring straight up the barrel of my own fucking

Is this it?

this is how I

irritation. Of all the ways I could have died

something I

Live by the sword…

how the mind works at these moments. The brain does

don’t think I’m

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

My throat tightens…

contempt in equal measure… “A hero with a gun and a knife against an

know

its owner. So do

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

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

“Mitch?”

admit it. I

So does Baxter.

women offering

never seen her dressed like

strike a pose. And with an eye on

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