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.

it’s going?” The female

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

my mouth and spatters my chin. Wiping it away with the back of my hand succeeds

Someone giggles.

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

?

thoughts too. Nothing makes sense. Every part of me screams protest as,

bite at my ankle again, something clinking

unfocused, I reach for my ankle, finding a steel cuff, snapped closed. And as my vision clears, I see a padlock. With leaden

gasps, finally I look up and around, take in my

it quickly fades, illuminating only a small

Jose stands beside her. Between them and me, trickled

“You won’t escape that padlock, Larry. I chose it especially for

dully: a small brass key: She passes it to Jose, who hangs it on a nail banged into the concrete wall, clearly visible, but well beyond my

Larry?” Juliana 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

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

Sewers?

dark shadows. And set in the wall behind

before I speak, “You’re consistent, Juliana. I’ll say that for you. You imprisoned Jenny

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

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…

yes, you like cellars. I remember that about you. I remember those cellars so well. We all spent time there; with the rats for company and knowing the bodies of the ones who disappeared were

I don’t comment, don’t

and dark places, this is your life now… for as much of it as you

inject some venom, but it’s false bravado and

still have his gun in

“Of course.”

“Give it to me.”

She turns it over in her hands, examining it, as though she has

She won’t shoot…

She’s a gloater…

doesn’t want

Not yet….

But my breath holds…

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

“I might just shoot you dead. Bang! Bang!…” She mimes firing… Fake recoil with each Bang… “…Just like that…”

genuine question, as though, waiting for an answer. She doesn’t get

muses… “… I could take you a piece at a time.” She stares upward, as though addressing

myself

In… Out… In… Out…

games: making the victim collaborate

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

Fuck this…

or right, Larry? Time

Keep calm…

Don't panic…

Baxter…

me… “… It's not as though you’re going to need it again. I'll leave you the other one for a bit. You’ll want to stand up when you take a

be infected within hours. I'd be dead of sepsis or

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

arms folded, legs akimbo; radiating machismo. “All your

alive as long as Solana chooses to keep you that way.

your only use to Juliana was to make me

some teenager told he can’t stay out late. “… Sola can do what she wants with you. No

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 her other

can he

smiles in his belief that

Dumb bastard…

“Hey, look out. She's...”

he’s too wrapped up in

and I’m too

the muzzle of the Glock pressed

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