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?”

labour.” He holds up palms… “It’s settled and she’s fine, but under the circumstances, for the sakes of both Elizabeth and

though waiting for me to argue. I don’t. “They are 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 that

*****

pull my ingredients together. Prawns,

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

“Please don’t.”

smile from her place at the

glad when I can take the bloody thing off.” The tang of onions rides up my

to cook for me, James. I’ll

helps me relax. I could do with some

turns,

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

Must have done.

you forgot something like that. Let me look…” She plucks at the top he's wearing, Michael's, and the fabric gapes open at a clean slice. Mine is underneath

are soaked

by the damage to himself. Quite the opposite. He seems gratified by her attention, eyes crinkling as she

off,” she says. “Let

to pull them up, fingers tugging at the bottom hem,

hooks fingers under,

as the sodden fabric peels away from the gash underneath; 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

briefest of looks. “That needs a doctor. I’ll go get him…”

have an annoying habit of wanting to know who you

shakes his head then runs warm water into a bowl, dumping bowl, soap, clean rags and a tube of antiseptic cream on the table. Then he rummages through drawers before producing

smeared in blood, red by

than it is,” he comments. “My clothes... Sorry... Your

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

silently, Michael fills

slicing deeper. Mitch slaps a pad of clean cotton

hand, replacing it with

She halts in mid-sentence, staring at his chest. “Good God, Larry. What have you been doing the last few years? You look as if someone's

in. “Or

whipcord and leather, Klempner’s chest is crisscrossed with scars, slices and punctures. Some deep and red, some fine white lines. Trying

and then I can get

left of my fleece. “Not in these clothes, you

needs stitches,” insists

and peers close. “Stopped by the breastbone from going any deeper. It does need stitching, yes.” He presses pad and fingers back into place. “Back in

telling me he keeps

I shrug.

to Mitch. “Superglue. Use a dot wherever you would stitch

Looks at the tube. Bites a lip. “Can