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.

myself to wait, watching the store entrance as he enters, strolling in as though he owns the fucking

people… Own

through the plate glass windows, I see him inside, looming over

her trapped, enclosed between his chest and arms, and the wall. Even from here, I can see the way her face is

as he cages her with his body. But it’s different between them;

…and accept…

… the rules.

the real

If that were Jenny…

My gut tightens…

Then, inwardly, I chuckle.

at his throat. The only time anyone ever took my daughter down, she was nine months pregnant. Even then, it took two strong

Stabbing at the

love to

to intimidate someone who knows how to

smirk from

…

It’s not the time…

to my list of To-Dos: Teach Asshole a lesson he won’t

later, he re-emerges, again stuffing his

Always the pocket…

Never the attache

sauntering to his next stop: a tobacconist a couple of

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

I’m about to light up, Wonder Boy reappears. He doesn’t even look

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

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

my forehead… “My pleasure...” … then

Shit!

Where is he?

nowhere in sight, lost in

Have I lost him?

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