Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Antonio's concern for me is touching but it’s cost me long seconds. As I emerge, blinking against the sunlight, Wonder Boy has vanished.

Fuck!

Have I lost him?

I spin, scanning all around, seeking my quarry, ignoring the curious stares of passers-by…

… The line of parked cars…

Doorways…

… along the block…

… the other side of the street…

Zip. Nada…

Then, sprinting across the street, dodging the traffic, I make it to the corner: the clothes store I used as my lurking spot when I first came here.

How long did he hold me up?

Twenty seconds?

Thirty?

How far can the bastard have gone?

Then, I see him again, tall against the crowd.

He emerges from the next door along from Antonio’s, a small hair-salon-cum-barber-shop. Shoving something into his pocket, he turns my way…

The clothing store?

It appears Santa Claus is doing his rounds, collecting his gifts from all the little boys and girls on his list, regardless of whether they’re naughty or nice.

of people, then double-back on myself to wait, watching the store entrance as he enters, strolling in as though he owns the

people…

bit, looking through the plate glass windows, I see him inside, looming over a shop-assistant, not

her, smirking, he has her trapped, enclosed between his chest and arms, and

seen James stand over Jenny with that same gesture; using his height, looking down on her, moving in on her space as

…and accept…

… the rules.

is the

If that were Jenny…

My gut tightens…

Then, inwardly, I chuckle.

Wonder Boy would have a knee in his groin and a knife/broken-bottle/metal-comb at his throat. The only time anyone ever took my daughter down, she was nine months

watch, the girl ducks, then slides away from Wonder Boy, making for the counter, Stabbing at the till, she snatches cash from the drawer and, face contorted,

love to take

try to intimidate someone who knows how to handle

that smirk from your

…

It’s not the time…

tuck it away for future reference, adding it to my list of To-Dos: Teach Asshole a lesson he won’t

re-emerges, again stuffing his

Always the pocket…

the

stop: a tobacconist a couple of

serving fall silent as I point to the

I stand in clear view, making a show of opening the packet, unravelling the plastic wrap, taking one out then, as I’m about to light up, Wonder Boy reappears.

the cigarette back into the pack, when I realise there’s a beggar, rheumy-eyed, standing beside me, holding his hand out, looking at the

it to him, then offer up the lighter, the yellow-tipped flame flickering in the breeze. The beggar inhales deeply, smoke drifting from his nostrils, then gives me a small bow and a

pleasure...” … then turn to

Shit!

Where is he?

Boy’s nowhere in sight, lost in the milling

Have I lost him?