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.

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

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

with the back of my hand succeeds only in smearing foul

Someone giggles.

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

?

of me screams protest as, stiff-muscled, my body torpid, I try again to raise

bite at my ankle again, something clinking

my vision clears, I see a padlock. With leaden fingers, I feel at the metal, probing sluggishly: it’s good quality, the steel polished

finally I look up and

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

stands beside her. Between them and me, trickled over muck and slime, a thick white line is painted

a slight smile playing over her lips. “You won’t escape that padlock, Larry. I chose it especially

passes it to Jose, who hangs it on a nail banged into the concrete wall, clearly visible, but well beyond

She sweeps an arm around… “Or maybe it won’t. I’d like to

says that. The walls and floor are concrete. Beside me, the floor drops away to a channel containing an uncertain depth of

Sewers?

light, from a single overhead bulb, marks out the confined space with sharp dark shadows. And set in the wall

some saliva from my cheeks before I speak, “You’re consistent, Juliana. I’ll say that for you.

it, Larry. I’ve done it.” She squats down, noticeably well to

I learned it, Larry? Locked up in your cellars at Blessingmoors, whenever you or that bastard Jenkins…” Her lips curls…”That fucking

remember those cellars so well. We all spent time there; with the rats for company and knowing the bodies of the ones who

don’t comment, don’t move, try

then continues…”That’s good. I can see you do remember. Since you’re so fond of tunnels and dark places, this is your life now… for as much of it as

at her, trying to inject some venom, but it’s false bravado and we both know

to Jose. “You still have his gun in your

“Of course.”

“Give it to me.”

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

She won’t shoot…

She’s a gloater…

she doesn’t want

Not yet….

But my breath holds…

barrel swings, apparently randomly, first one way, then

What am I going to do with you? I haven't decided properly yet, you know.” She aims at my forehead. “I might just shoot you dead. Bang!

me, as though it were a genuine question,

a time.” She stares upward, as though addressing the ceiling. “What do you think, Larry? A foot maybe? Perhaps the one

myself to

In… Out… In… Out…

games: making the victim collaborate in

feet. “Which will it be, Larry? Left or right? If you don't choose, of course,

Fuck this…

or right, Larry? Time to

Keep calm…

Don't panic…

Baxter…

me… “… It's not as though you’re going to need it again. I'll leave

gunshot wounds down here, Juliana, and they'll be infected within hours. I'd be dead of sepsis or gangrene within days. I'm guessing

wrinkles her nose, lowering the muzzle of the Glock. “Quite right, Larry.” She gives a quick, sharp nod. “It's good we understand each other...” She

radiating machismo. “All your enemies

toward me… “You’re only alive as long as Solana chooses to keep you that way. I don’t think you have more than

one in trouble, Jose? If your only

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

the knife in the smile. She moves closer to him, slides one hand over his cheek, then around his neck, as though to kiss him. “As you say, Jose, only we know he’s here.” He doesn’t watch

he not

her, smiles in his belief

Dumb bastard…

“Hey, look out. She's...”

wrapped

I’m too

the muzzle of the Glock pressed into his

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