Hot Revenge Box Set 4
Chapter 21
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.
the hubbub of people, then double-back on myself to wait,
the people…
bit, looking through the plate glass windows, I see him inside, looming over a shop-assistant, not
enclosed between his chest and arms,
Jenny with that same gesture; using his height, looking down on her, moving in on her space as he cages her with his body.
…and accept…
… the rules.
is the
If that were Jenny…
My gut tightens…
Then, inwardly, I chuckle.
only time anyone ever took my daughter down, she
then slides away from Wonder Boy, making for the counter, Stabbing at the till, she snatches cash from the drawer and, face contorted, thrusts it at him, yelling something I
to
try to intimidate someone who knows how to
smirk
…
It’s not the time…
it to my list of To-Dos: Teach
he re-emerges,
Always the pocket…
the
before sauntering to his next stop: a tobacconist a couple
he and the girl serving fall silent as I point to the first brand I recognise… “Vinte, por favor. E um isqueiro…”
a show of opening the packet, unravelling the plastic wrap, taking one out then, as I’m about to light up, Wonder Boy reappears. He doesn’t even look my way as, taking a sharp left, he
as I slip the cigarette back into the pack, when I realise there’s a beggar, rheumy-eyed, standing beside me, holding his hand out, looking at
beggar inhales deeply, smoke drifting from his nostrils, then
pleasure...”
Shit!
Where is he?
sight, lost in the
Have I lost him?
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