Hot Revenge Box Set 4

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.

from the darkness. “Good afternoon, Larry. How are you? I do hope you’ve had the opportunity

opted for black hair today, long and draped over her shoulders, with deep red lipstick. The dress is long and clingy, with a low cut neckline; designed to show off a figure

hands neatly folded. She could be in school, waiting for a favourite teacher to begin the lesson. Or

says brightly. “What are we going

me, a touch of wariness in her eyes. Momentarily, her gaze drops to her

fold my arms,

but it’s good to get

talk about? I’m guessing you have a selection of choice topics.” I pace a little, as much as the chain allows, unhinging stiff knees and hips,

bright little smile. “And…” She aims a

Fake…

Extensions?

yourself. Exercise. You won’t do well down here if you don’t move about

Two days?

Is there anything

I pause…

Seriously?

“How about a cup?”

a tool? Finchby and Baxter were stupid, letting your little bitch

to get a real drink

do with your time? Lick it off the wall if you have to. I’m not giving you

your concern for my

be grouchy, Larry. I’ve won and you’ve lost. You’re mine now and we’re

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

of him has been found dead in his hotel suite after the explosion. And I made sure the police found some clues about you being near my apartment.

My chest tightens…

“What clues?”

her hair. “I suppose they might decide you were involved with the gangs. But I think it's more likely they'll say you got caught in the war between the Wolves and the Nightshades. You know…” She makes air commas… “Innocent Tourist Witnesses Gang Murder And Bloodbath. Criminals Retaliate.” The papers love that kind

“Either way, Larry, they’re not looking for you. You’re dead. Or the man

you rigged that explosion just so you could plant a corpse to stand

wondering where you are, could I? That

“Juliana…”

“Sola!” she snaps.

murdered? There were scores of people caught in that explosion. All