Hot Revenge Box Set 4
Chapter 52
Klempner
What's the obsession with potatoes?
I called her Potato Face when she was a kid.
What does she look like now?
Jenny was no looker at that age…
… But she matured. Bloomed.
Juliana... Never the same twice.
I scratch at my beard. I’ve never liked facial hair in hot climates, but I don’t have a choice right now. Even so, the flourishing colony of lice that has stowed aboard adds an extra edge of irritation.
Lice…
Where the fuck did they come from?
Can rat lice live on humans?
Having a fucking good go at it…
I catch one, squeezing the revolting thing between my fingernails. It bursts with a Pop!
Only another 999 to go…
*****
The boredom’s the worst. Endless hours. Endless days and nights. I’ve no idea how long.
The only breaks in the monotony are Juliana’s visits: just long enough to sit, eat something at me, toss a potato at me.
No, not Juliana: Solana.
Why's she so obsessed with the name?
How many names have I used over the years? Worn like a suit of clothes to be discarded when the weather changes and something different is needed.
I’ve never been defined by my name.
But she sees it differently…
Something skritches and I jerk a look sidelong
It’s a rat…
Just a rat…
down
It’s just a rat…
dark openings, more scratching.
enough into an abyss, the abyss
Who said that?
Nietzsche?
Depressing bastard…
come equipped with fists and feet. Between us, we settle an uneasy
*****
do you know what
eyes. She takes something from her lunchbox, unwrapping one of her usual
a kidnap or hostage situation, the prisoner forms
you're getting
Her head tilts. She pretending mockery, but I have her attention. “… But there's a reverse condition. It's called Lima
“So?”
your only friend,
brigadeiro. A flake of chocolate cracks off the small round cake, dropping back into the napkin
why do you keep coming
her chewing, mouth hanging
to watch me rot,
have to feed you. I assume you do want me to feed you? We can
potatoes and come once a week. Or even, once a month.
speaking, simply regarding me. I continue. “Am I your only friend, Sola? Is that it? You've
her head, giggling. “So, you're my friend
anyone out there who thinks you're worth it? The daughter you had slated as a sex-slave when she was a kid? That middle-aged hooker? You've not changed, Larry. I can see right through you. The same heartless bastard that
in her seat, arches her brows. “I am making
to have changed. Who
“Solana…” she hisses.
the rancid concrete, some of it dropping just this
heel, she stalks
in my ankle as the chain snaps taut, I snatch up the discarded meal from the filthy concrete, scrabbling
my eyes adjust to the green blink of the camera. It hardly matters. My attention is on the wealth
is almost untouched, only a single bite taken from the corner.
eaten anything like
For how long?
idea. Weeks? Months? My sense of time is out of the
I had
in a mouthful of empanada, then another, I ram
Too soon. Half-chewed pulp goes down the wrong way and suddenly I’m no longer eating, but coughing and choking and
it up, where it plops in a saliva-coated mess onto the
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