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.

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

people…

see him

of her, smirking, he has her trapped, enclosed between his chest and arms, and the wall. Even from here, I can see the way her face is screwing up, close to

same gesture; using his height, looking down on her, moving in on her space as he cages her with

…and accept…

… the rules.

is the real

If that were Jenny…

My gut tightens…

Then, inwardly, I chuckle.

throat. The only time anyone ever took my daughter down, she was nine months pregnant. Even

ducks, then slides away from Wonder Boy, making for the counter, Stabbing at the till,

love to take him

intimidate someone who knows how

that smirk

…

It’s not the time…

I 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

Always the pocket…

the

his next stop:

at the counter, exerting his charm, but both he and the girl serving fall silent as I point to the first brand I recognise… “Vinte, por favor. E um isqueiro…” … push the coins at her, then, pocketing a packet of

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

few seconds, letting him get a little distance as I slip the cigarette back into the pack, when I realise there’s a beggar, rheumy-eyed, standing beside me, holding

breeze. The beggar

forehead… “My pleasure...” … then

Shit!

Where is he?

Boy’s nowhere in sight, lost in the

Have I lost him?

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