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.

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

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

Someone giggles.

sticky with something besides the filth: white, already drying, crisping

?

is cloudy, achy. My thoughts too. Nothing makes sense. Every part of me screams protest as, stiff-muscled, my body

my ankle again, something

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.

finally I look up and around, take

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

a fold-up wooden chair. Jose stands beside her. Between them and me,

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

it to Jose, who hangs it on a nail banged into the concrete wall,

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

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

Sewers?

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

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

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

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 it

well. We all spent time

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

to inject some venom, but it’s false bravado

Jose. “You still

“Of course.”

“Give it to me.”

turns it over in her hands, examining it, as though she has never

She won’t shoot…

She’s a gloater…

doesn’t want

Not yet….

But my breath holds…

one way, then the other, but always

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

were a genuine question, as though,

“… I could take you a piece at a time.” She stares upward, as though addressing the ceiling. “What do you think, Larry? A foot maybe?

force myself

In… Out… In… Out…

know all about these games: making the victim collaborate in

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

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 you the

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

right, Larry.” She gives a quick, sharp nod. “It's good we understand each other...” She looks toward Jose,

akimbo; radiating machismo.

his chin toward me… “You’re only alive as long as Solana chooses to keep you that way. I don’t think you have more than a few days. And they’re not going to

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

like some teenager told he can’t stay out late. “… Sola can do what she wants with you. No one else knows you’re here. She has her

lips curve, but Jose doesn't see the knife in the smile. She moves closer to him, slides one hand over his cheek, then around his neck, as though

can he

in his belief that they are

Dumb bastard…

“Hey, look out. She's...”

he’s too wrapped up

I’m

of the Glock pressed into his belly,

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255