Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Chapter 42

Klempner

My resources: The clothes I’m wearing. A notebook and the stub of a pencil: A book on herbal toxins. A small supply of sweet water. An infinite supply, for any practical purpose, of foul water, slime and garbage. And of course, one small potato.

I’d like to give in to despair. There’s something alluring about despair, something seductive. Perhaps I should simply not play Juliana’s game; let her kill me.

But if I’m dead…

Mitch…

My beautiful green-eyed Mitch.

So alive. So energetic.

So full of courage.

So vital.

Vitale

…

Stay alive...

So, eat the fucking potato…

I prise it out from its bed of sludge and slime with a slight sucking sound. It’s small; perhaps half the size of my fist. On the other hand, adhered muck aside, it seems sound; firm, mid-brown, no sprouts or green parts. I have a vague idea that I’ve read that green potatoes are unsafe to eat.

Hauling myself up from my concrete seat, lifting my chain in one hand, with the other, I hold my meal under the water inlet, thumbing away the dirt under the clean water.

Time to live…

And I bite in.

*****

With no warning, the light blinks on and without meaning to, I groan, hiding my eyes behind my hands.

Click Click of heels on concrete, then Juliana emerges from the darkness. “Good afternoon, Larry. How are you?

long and clingy, with a low cut neckline; designed

then sits, on her fold-up chair, hands neatly folded. She could be in school, waiting for a favourite teacher to begin the lesson. Or perhaps in the

she says brightly. “What are we going to talk

her look down at me while we talk. She watches me, a touch of wariness in

I fold my arms, lean back against the

it’s good to get off the

topics.” I pace a little, as much as the chain allows, unhinging stiff knees and hips, stretching

little smile. “And…” She aims a long painted

Fake…

Extensions?

You must look after yourself. Exercise. You won’t do well down here if you don’t move about more than I’ve

Two days?

there anything

I pause…

Seriously?

“How about a cup?”

a weapon or a tool? Finchby and Baxter were stupid, letting your little bitch daughter get hold of

difficult to get a real drink

something better to do with your time? Lick it off the wall

by your

lost. You’re mine

be looking for me, the police. By now they'll know

I made sure the police found some clues about you being

My chest tightens…

“What clues?”

over her hair. “I suppose they might decide you were involved with the gangs. But I think it's

widening. “Either way, Larry, they’re not looking for

just so you could plant a corpse to stand

you are, could I? That would

“Juliana…”

“Sola!” she snaps.

back. “How many have you murdered? There were scores of people caught in

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