Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Chapter 18

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?”

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

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

*****

kitchen, I pull my ingredients together. Prawns,

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

“Please don’t.”

in a smile from her place at the

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

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

I

enough.” Klempner turns, grunting

pins him with her eyes. “Larry, why are you moving

Must have done. Um, yes,

Let me look…” She plucks at the top he's wearing,

are

trace of panic on her face. Klempner watches her, apparently unconcerned by the damage to himself. Quite the opposite. He seems gratified

“Let me have a proper

the bottom hem, then hisses, eyes rising

hooks fingers

long, scored from shoulder to chest. At the edges, blood

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

eyes, says, “They have an annoying habit of wanting to know who you are.

clean rags and a tube of antiseptic cream on the

smeared in blood, red by the wound, black at

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

swat flies then, starting at the outer edge, working in, she wipes and cleans, squeezing the cloth into the bowl

silently, Michael fills another

cleaned, the wound can be seen as a clean slit, starting shallow, but slicing deeper. Mitch slaps a pad

removes her hand, replacing it with his own, face

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

weighs in. “Or

deep and red, some fine

bloody circus show. Mitch, just dress it and then I can

in these clothes, you

stitches,” insists

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

forehead. “You telling me he keeps

I shrug.

“Superglue. Use a dot wherever you would

looks at the wound. Looks at the tube. Bites

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