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.

street to merge with the hubbub of people, then double-back on myself to wait, watching the store entrance

people…

him inside,

between his

on her space as

…and accept…

… the rules.

is the

If that were Jenny…

My gut tightens…

Then, inwardly, I chuckle.

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 pregnant. Even then, it took two strong

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, thrusts it at him, yelling something I

to take

just try to intimidate someone who knows

wipe that smirk from

…

It’s not the time…

for future reference, adding it to my list of To-Dos: Teach Asshole

minute later, he re-emerges,

Always the pocket…

Never the

his next stop: a tobacconist a couple

to the first brand I recognise… “Vinte, por favor. E um isqueiro…” … push the coins at

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. He doesn’t even look my way as, taking a sharp left, he strolls off

a few seconds, letting him get a little distance as I slip the cigarette back into the pack,

in the breeze. The beggar inhales deeply, smoke drifting from his nostrils, then gives me

my forehead… “My pleasure...” … then turn to

Shit!

Where is he?

sight, lost in the

Have I lost him?

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