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.

Larry. Good to see you awake again. How it’s going?” The female

with the rebellion of my stomach. My guts heave and the sad remains of my last meal spill over the ground

it away with the back of my hand succeeds only in smearing

Someone giggles.

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

?

sense. Every part of me screams protest as, stiff-muscled,

bite at my ankle again,

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

breath coming in short gasps, finally I look up and around,

But it quickly fades, illuminating only a small area around me, three or four yards, before

chair. Jose stands beside her. Between them and me, trickled over muck and

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

in her fingers, glinting dully: a small brass key: She passes it to Jose, who hangs

feeling so good, 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 think you get the benefit of the accommodation I’ve chosen for you.” She pauses, I assume for effect, letting me take in the

concrete. Beside me, the floor drops away to a channel containing an uncertain depth of oozing water. Rusted metal grates

Sewers?

set in the

Juliana. I’ll say that for you. You imprisoned Jenny below ground in

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

or that bastard Jenkins…” Her

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 the dark with

don’t comment, don’t move, try

see you do remember. Since you’re so fond of tunnels and dark places, this

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

“You still have his gun in your

“Of course.”

“Give it to me.”

she has never seen such a thing before. Then, holding it

She won’t shoot…

She’s a gloater…

she doesn’t want me

Not yet….

But my breath holds…

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

I haven't decided properly yet, you know.” 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 so much fun,

genuine question, as though, waiting for an answer. She

muses… “… 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? Perhaps the one in the

force myself

In… Out… In… Out…

these games: making the victim collaborate in their

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

Fuck this…

Larry? Time

Keep calm…

Don't panic…

Baxter…

into a pumpkin smile and she widens her eyes at me… “… It's not as though you’re going to need it again. I'll leave you the other one for a bit.

be infected within hours. I'd be dead

right, Larry.” She gives a quick,

machismo.

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

your only use to

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

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,

can he not

her, smiles in his belief that they are

Dumb bastard…

“Hey, look out. She's...”

he’s too wrapped

and I’m too

the muzzle of the Glock pressed into his belly,

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