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?”

settled and she’s fine, but under the circumstances, for the sakes of both Elizabeth and Charlotte, and considering Charlotte’s feelings regarding hospitals right now, I have assembled

them. Meanwhile you…” He levels a finger at me… “…are going to let Doctor Polinski examine that eye. Along with any

*****

pull my ingredients

“Well, if it ain’t my old friend Capt’n Bluebeard.” He elbows me in

“Please don’t.”

place at the

my

shoulder. “You don’t have to cook for me,

It helps me relax. I could do with some relaxation

Klempner turns, grunting

pins him 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,

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

these are soaked through

of panic on her face. Klempner watches her, apparently unconcerned by the damage to himself. Quite the

these off,” she says. “Let me have a proper

fingers tugging at the bottom

hooks

chest. At the edges, blood crisped dry resists, plucking at the

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

doctors, thank you.” Klempner calms, then apologising with his eyes, says, “They have an annoying habit of wanting to

bowl, dumping bowl, soap, clean rags and a tube of antiseptic cream on the table. Then

in blood, red by the wound, black

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

starting at the outer edge,

two, silently, Michael fills another bowl with fresh

deeper. Mitch slaps a pad of clean cotton over the top, pressing it in place with her hand. “It

her hand, replacing it with

“You behave as though you've done this before…” She halts in mid-sentence, staring at his chest. “Good God, Larry. What have you been doing the last few years?

weighs in. “Or

and leather, Klempner’s chest is crisscrossed with scars, slices and punctures. Some deep

“I'm not a bloody circus show. Mitch, just dress it and then I can get some clothes on

pick up what’s left of my fleece. “Not in these clothes, you won't.

stitches,”

and peers close. “Stopped by the breastbone from going

telling me

I shrug.

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

at the tube. Bites a lip.