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.

then double-back on myself to wait, watching the store

people…

through the plate glass windows, I see him

girl he’s intimidating. An arm to either side of her, smirking, he has her trapped, enclosed between his chest and arms, and the wall. Even from here, I can see the

down on her, moving in on her space as he cages her with his body. But it’s

…and accept…

… the rules.

is the real

If that were Jenny…

My gut tightens…

Then, inwardly, I chuckle.

that were Jenny, 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 pregnant. Even then, it took two strong men and a hypo of

Stabbing at the till, she snatches cash from the drawer and,

love to take

to intimidate someone who knows how

that smirk from your

…

It’s not the time…

adding it to my list of To-Dos:

minute later, he re-emerges, again stuffing

Always the pocket…

the attache

stop: a tobacconist a couple

girl serving fall silent as I point to the first brand I recognise… “Vinte, por favor. E um

street, 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.

a 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 his

yellow-tipped flame flickering in the breeze. The beggar inhales deeply, smoke drifting from his nostrils, then gives me a small bow

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

Shit!

Where is he?

sight, lost in the milling

Have I lost him?