Hot Revenge Box Set 2

James

And now, for the first time, I push the door, quiet as I can, looking in.

Mitch is there, a pad on her lap, sketching. She sits by Charlotte; sleeping, so pale.

No, not pale; pallid.

What they did to you…

But she’s clean and warm and comfortable. And by the side of the bed, within touching distance, also sleeping…

Cara…

My daughter…

And in a chair by the window, a hawk-eyed nurse.

What’s been happening?

Mitch smiles, holding up her pad: a half-drawn sketch, in pastels, of mother and baby. Then she looks me up and down, pulling a face.

?

I mouth silently. “What?”

She nods me to the mirror and I see myself.

Oh, My God…

Even though I changed, brushed my hair, I can’t let Charlotte wake up to see me like this. Or Cara…

The eye is not a pretty sight. It’s not so swollen now and it’s beginning to open again, but the colour, a kind of reverse rainbow in blue, green and sickly yellow, is enough to put anyone off their… milk… There’s not too much I can do about the bruising, but at the least, I should clean myself up.

I stoop, kiss Charlotte’s cheek. She stirs, mumbling something soft. I can’t make out the words, but sleeping, her lips are curving.

I stroke Cara’s tiny face, and eyes-closed, she blows a bubble.

Then, with a nod to Mitch, I turn to leave. And Michael’s there. He too holds the pair in his gaze, then with a tap to my chest. “Let’s let them sleep.”

Mitch follows us out, picking up a baby monitor en route and popping it in her pocket.

*****

A hot shower and I feel more myself. Then Richard snags me, bullying me through to where the doctor I saw is waiting.

“I’m sorry… What’s happening?”

happened is that last night, Elizabeth went into premature labour.” He holds up palms… “It’s settled and she’s fine, but under the circumstances, for the sakes of both Elizabeth and Charlotte,

staying in the hotel for the next few weeks and are on 24/7 call should we need them. Meanwhile you…” He levels a finger at me… “…are going to let Doctor Polinski examine that eye. Along with any other damage you might have taken last night. I can see for myself

*****

my

comes in, inspects my work area and Hmmms, then grins as he gets a look at me. “Well, if it ain’t my old friend Capt’n Bluebeard.” He elbows me in the ribs. “Oohhh, Aaarrr!” Then, slaps his forehead as I

“Please don’t.”

at the table. “It

bloody thing off.” The tang of onions rides up my sinuses and I try to rub my nose, then realise my damn eye is watering

looks over my shoulder. “You don’t have to cook for me, James. I’ll be

relax. I

turns, grunting as he

with her eyes. “Larry, why are you moving like that?” She looks closer. “You're bleeding. Did Baxter

surprised. “Oh! Must have done. Um, yes,

forgot something like that. Let me look…” She plucks at the top he's wearing, Michael's,

Larry, these are soaked through

Klempner watches her, apparently unconcerned by the damage to himself. Quite

she says. “Let

reaches to pull them up, fingers tugging at the bottom hem, then hisses,

hooks

a wicked slice, six inches long, scored from shoulder to chest. At the edges, blood crisped dry resists, plucking at the wound as she peels away the garment. But liquid blood, dark and red,

“That needs a doctor. I’ll go get him…” He makes as

says, “They have an annoying habit

soap, clean rags and a tube of antiseptic cream on the table. Then he rummages

in blood, red by the wound, black at the

looks down at himself. “It looks worse than it is,” he comments.

calculated to swat flies then, starting at the outer edge, working in, she wipes and cleans, squeezing the

two, silently, Michael fills another bowl with fresh water

worst of the blood cleaned, the wound can be seen as a clean slit, starting shallow, but slicing deeper. Mitch slaps a pad of clean cotton over the top, pressing it in place with her hand. “It

her hand, replacing it with his own,

back, a set to her eye. “You behave as though you've done this before…” She halts in mid-sentence, staring at his chest. “Good God, Larry. What have you

in.

is crisscrossed with scars, slices and punctures. Some deep and

Mitch, just dress it and then I can get some clothes

“Not in these clothes, you won't.

stitches,” insists

by the breastbone from going any deeper. It does need stitching, yes.” He presses pad and fingers back into

his forehead. “You telling me he keeps sutures in the

I shrug.

Mitch. “Superglue. Use a dot wherever you would stitch but keep to the edges. If it gets onto raw flesh, it'll

looks at the wound. Looks at the