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.

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

with the rebellion of my stomach. My guts heave and the sad

it away with the back of my hand

Someone giggles.

now close to my face, I realise my fingertips too are sticky with something besides the filth: white, already drying, crisping at the edges.

?

screams protest as, stiff-muscled, my body torpid, I try again

at my ankle again, something clinking as

clears, I see a padlock. With leaden fingers, I feel at the metal, probing sluggishly: it’s good quality, the steel polished and new. My feet are

short gasps, finally I look up and

fades, illuminating only a small area around me, three or four yards,

sitting on a fold-up wooden chair. Jose stands beside her. Between them and me, trickled over muck

she watches me, a slight smile playing over her lips. “You won’t escape that padlock,

dangling it in her fingers, glinting dully: a small brass key: She passes it to

will pass… Or…” She sweeps an arm around… “Or maybe it won’t. I’d

away to a channel containing an uncertain depth of oozing water. Rusted metal grates obstruct narrow black unknowns: some dry, some trickling into the main

Sewers?

shadows. And set in the wall behind Juliana, towards the ceiling, a camera eye aims at

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

displays teeth. “There’s no plan about it, Larry. I’ve done it.” She squats down, noticeably well to her

in the eye, “And where d’you think I learned it, Larry? Locked up in your cellars at Blessingmoors, whenever you or that bastard Jenkins…” Her lips curls…”That fucking perv you put in charge… Whenever either of you felt like handing

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

pauses. I don’t comment, don’t move, try not

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

you.” I spit the words at her, trying to inject some venom, but it’s false

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 it loosely, almost negligently, she waves it through the air, the

She won’t shoot…

She’s a gloater…

doesn’t want me

Not yet….

But my breath holds…

apparently randomly, first one way, then the other, but always over

She aims at my forehead. “I might just shoot you dead. Bang! Bang!…” She mimes firing… Fake recoil with each Bang… “…Just like that…” Then she sniffs. “But that wouldn’t be

her head at me, as though it were a genuine question, as though, waiting

time.” She stares upward, as though addressing the ceiling.

myself to

In… Out… In… Out…

making the victim collaborate in

nose of the barrel drifts between my feet. “Which will it be, Larry? Left or right? If you don't choose, of course, it

Fuck this…

Larry?

Keep calm…

Don't panic…

Baxter…

though

here, Juliana, and they'll be infected

She gives a quick, sharp nod. “It's good we understand each other...”

folded, legs akimbo; radiating machismo. “All your

Solana chooses to keep you that way. I don’t think you have more than a few days. And they’re not going to

in trouble, Jose? If your only use to Juliana was

“… Sola can do what she wants with you. No one else

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

smiles in

Dumb bastard…

“Hey, look out. She's...”

too wrapped up

I’m

the Glock pressed

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