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.

emerges from the darkness. “Good afternoon, Larry.

and clingy, with a low cut neckline; designed to show off a figure which I suspect is being enhanced with well-chosen underwear. A clutch bag in black

could be in school, waiting for a favourite teacher to begin the lesson. Or perhaps in the

brightly. “What are we going to

watches me, a touch of wariness in her eyes. Momentarily, her gaze drops to her painted line, but

I fold my arms,

it’s good to get

have a selection of choice topics.” I pace a little, as

a bright little smile. “And…” She aims

Fake…

Extensions?

do well down here if you don’t move

Two days?

Is there

I pause…

Seriously?

“How about a cup?”

Baxter were stupid, letting your little bitch daughter get hold of a glass bottle.

to get a real drink

do with your time? Lick it off the wall if you

your concern for

won and you’ve lost. You’re mine now and we’re playing by

me, the police. By

Harry Hughes isn't missing. What’s left of him has been found dead in his hotel suite after the explosion. And I made sure the police found some clues

My chest tightens…

“What clues?”

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

knees, her smile widening. “Either way, Larry, they’re not looking for you. You’re dead. Or the man they think you are

just so you could plant a corpse to stand

you

“Juliana…”

“Sola!” she snaps.

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

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