Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Chapter 39

Back in the lounge, Cara is sitting on Mitch’s knee. “Getting into practice?” I ask.

Hope and tears war in her voice. “I suppose.” Then as Cara stretches chubby arms out to me. “I think she wants a hug.”

My baby daughter gives me a gummy smile as I pick her up, cradling her to my chest and bouncing her a bit. “You been a good girl then?”

A burble is my only reply, but Georgie looks at me a little oddly. “You never used to do that with me.”

“In fact, Georgie, I did. But your mother didn't like it. She always took you away from me when she could.”

She frowns. “Mom stopped you picking me up?”

“That’s right.”

“But…why would she do something like that?”

I shrug. “I suppose she wanted control of you.” I speak off-handedly, but suddenly, the conversation is uncomfortable. “Mitch I’m making tea. Peppermint for you?”

*****

 

Klempner

Nightmares…

The world spinning…

A face… Juliana, grinning at me… Her teeth sharp and pointed, like a cat’s.

Pain… Something gnawing at me, some monster biting at my ankle.

I know I’m in a nightmare, but I can’t jolt myself out of sleep. Sickeningly, the world spins and wavers around me. I want to retch, but my sleep-bound body won’t let me.

*****

Harsh white light filters through my lashes to stab at crusty eyes. The world still revolves. Or is it me that’s turning?

Consciousness returns only slowly, one sensation after another settling enough to make sense of them.

The spinning around me slowly dies and my world settles. I’m chilled and numb. Pain stabs behind my eyes and as I move, my stomach threatens rebellion. Gradually, it comes to me that, while my shoulder muscles burn, my hands are free.

A male voice: “He should be awake now, shouldn’t he?”

A female voice: “Yes. I didn’t give him much. He should be awake by now. He’s probably faking it.”

Just lie here…

Eyes closed…

Listen…

I’m lying on some cold, hard surface, slick with damp, coated with Christ-knows-what unnamable muck. And for some reason, I’m stretched out full-length, one arm reaching out above my head.

The male voice again: “Wakey, wakey, Larry.” And something plants itself in my ribs, whoofing the air out of my lungs.

Instinctively I roll, snatching for a foot, a leg, a fist: but I catch only empty air. Then I pull up short, with the clink of metal and something biting into my ankle.

What the hell…?

The air stinks. A fetid smell; stagnant water and the rank scent of decay, washes over me. All without meaning to, I react, covering my mouth and nose with my hand before realising that my hand is part of the smell, foul with slime and muck.

Somewhere close by: a trickling sound, and the slap of water against hard sides.

Where the fuck am I?

Oddly out of place, the smell of fresh paint tickles my nostrils.

The male voice again. “He’s awake for sure. He opened his eyes just then, but closed them again.” The words sound far away, as though carried through a tunnel. My eyes won’t focus properly. Nor my head: stuffed and unclear.

you awake again. How it’s going?” The female voice sparkles with

eyes, I try to haul myself upright. But a stab of pain at my ankle competes with the rebellion of my stomach. My guts heave and the sad remains of my last meal spill over the ground beside

my chin. Wiping it away with the back of my hand succeeds only

Someone giggles.

are sticky with something besides the filth: white, already drying, crisping at the edges. Cautiously,

?

thoughts too. Nothing makes sense. Every part of me screams protest as, stiff-muscled, my body torpid,

That bite at my ankle again, something clinking as I

cuff, snapped closed. And as my vision clears, I see a padlock. With leaden fingers, I feel

I look up and

is bright, harsh and white, But it quickly fades, illuminating only a small

Between them and me, trickled over muck and slime, a thick white

over her lips. “You won’t escape

holds something up, dangling it in her fingers, glinting dully: a small brass key: She passes it to Jose, who hangs it

rises from her chair, to stand a little distance from me, smirking. “Don’t worry, the nausea will pass… Or…” She sweeps an arm around… “Or maybe it won’t. I’d like to think

floor drops away to a channel containing an uncertain depth of oozing water. Rusted metal grates obstruct narrow

Sewers?

from a single overhead bulb, marks out the confined space with sharp dark shadows. And set in the wall behind Juliana, towards the ceiling, a camera eye aims at me, a

say that for you. You imprisoned Jenny below ground in primitive conditions. Now you plan to do

no plan about it, Larry. I’ve done it.” She squats down, noticeably well to her

that bastard Jenkins…” Her lips curls…”That fucking perv you put in charge… Whenever either

the snarl washing from her face. “Oh, yes, you like cellars. I remember that about you. I remember those cellars so well. We all spent time

comment, don’t

places, this is your life now… for as

you.” I spit the words at her, trying to inject

Jose. “You still

“Of course.”

“Give it to me.”

pocket, passing it across grip first. She turns it over in her hands, examining it, as though she has never seen such a thing before. Then, holding it loosely, almost negligently, she waves it through

She won’t shoot…

She’s a gloater…

she doesn’t

Not yet….

But my breath holds…

apparently randomly, first one way,

you? I haven't decided properly yet, you know.” She aims at my forehead. “I might just shoot you dead. Bang! Bang!…” She mimes firing… Fake recoil with each Bang…

as though it were a genuine question, as though, waiting for

upward, as though addressing the ceiling. “What do you think,

force myself to

In… Out… In… Out…

know all about these games: making the victim collaborate in their

will it be, Larry? Left or right? If

Fuck this…

Larry?

Keep calm…

Don't panic…

Baxter…

one, I think…” Her face splits into a pumpkin smile and she widens her eyes at me… “… It's not as though you’re going to need it again. I'll leave you the

me with gunshot wounds down here, Juliana, and they'll be infected within hours. I'd be dead of

right, Larry.” She gives a quick, sharp nod. “It's good we

akimbo; radiating machismo.

you that way. I don’t

“You think I’m the one in trouble, Jose? If your only use

late. “… Sola can do what she wants with you. No one else knows you’re

his cheek, then around his neck, as though to kiss him. “As you say, Jose, only we know he’s here.” He doesn’t

he not

slips arms around her, smiles in his belief

Dumb bastard…

“Hey, look out. She's...”

he’s too wrapped up in

and I’m too

Glock pressed into

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