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

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

away with the back of

Someone giggles.

I realise my fingertips too are sticky with something besides the filth: white, already drying, crisping

?

thoughts too. Nothing makes sense. Every part of me screams protest as, stiff-muscled, my body torpid, I try again to raise myself into a sitting

at my ankle again, something clinking

my ankle, finding a steel cuff, snapped closed. And as my vision 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 bare; there’s no sign of

in short gasps, finally I look

only a small

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

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

smile broadening, she holds something up, dangling it in her fingers, glinting dully: a small brass key: She passes it to Jose, who hangs it on a nail banged into

the nausea will pass… Or…” She sweeps an arm around… “Or maybe it won’t. I’d like to think you get the benefit of the

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

Sewers?

confined space with sharp dark shadows. And set in the wall behind Juliana, towards the

that for you.

She squats down, noticeably well to her side of the

Larry? Locked up in your cellars at Blessingmoors, whenever you or that bastard Jenkins…” Her lips curls…”That fucking perv you put in charge…

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 down there in

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

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 you have left.” She leans closer, hissing the words. “What goes

words at her, trying to inject some venom,

“You still have

“Of course.”

“Give it to me.”

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

Not yet….

But my breath holds…

barrel swings, apparently randomly, first one way, then

might just shoot you dead. Bang! Bang!…” She mimes firing… Fake recoil

me, as though it were a genuine question, as though, waiting for an answer.

stares upward, as though addressing the ceiling. “What do you think, Larry? A

myself to

In… Out… In… Out…

all about these games: making the victim collaborate in their

of the barrel drifts between my feet. “Which will it be, Larry? Left or right? If

Fuck this…

or right, Larry? Time

Keep calm…

Don't panic…

Baxter…

as though you’re going to need it again. I'll leave you the other one for a

and they'll be infected within hours. I'd be dead of

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

stands, arms folded, legs akimbo; radiating machismo. “All your enemies are dead

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

I’m the one in trouble, Jose? If your only use to Juliana was to make me her prisoner, your life expectancy is down

rolls his eyes like some teenager told he can’t stay out late. “… Sola can do what she wants with

in the smile. She moves closer to him, slides one hand over his cheek, then around his

he not

in his belief that they are

Dumb bastard…

“Hey, look out. She's...”

wrapped up in his

and I’m

Glock pressed into

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