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…

faced down gunmen, soldiers,

It’s just a rat…

more scratching. And

you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back

Who said that?

Nietzsche?

Depressing bastard…

equipped with teeth and whiskers. I come equipped with fists and feet. Between us, we

*****

know what Stockholm

over her eyes. She takes something from her lunchbox, unwrapping one of her usual dainties from a napkin. “What is

a kidnap or hostage

sniggers. “You saying you're getting attached

She pretending mockery, but I have her attention. “… But there's a reverse

“So?”

I your

produces a brigadeiro. A flake of chocolate cracks off the small

you keep

mouth hanging a little open.

wanted was to watch me rot, you have your camera there.” I jerk

feed you. I assume you do want me to feed you? We can always change that you

if that were the only reason, you could leave me a bag of potatoes and come once a week. Or even, once a month. But, so far as I can reckon, you're here

simply regarding me. I continue. “Am I your only friend, Sola?

giggling. “So, you're my friend

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 shipped me out to dig up potatoes for the rest of my life. Along with all the others you did the same to.

crosses her arms, sits back in her seat, arches her brows. “I

keep my voice mild. “Did I say otherwise? I'm not claiming to have changed. Who ever really changes?” I raise my gaze again, look into

“Solana…” she hisses.

some of it dropping just this side of that painted line, now less than white. Even under the

on her heel, she stalks

taut, I snatch up the discarded meal from the filthy concrete, scrabbling to grab broken fragments of meat in one hand, a cake

to the green blink of the camera. It hardly matters. My attention is on the wealth

single bite taken from the corner. And I have half of

eaten anything like

For how long?

sense of

had

in a mouthful of empanada, then another, I ram the food

pulp goes down the wrong way and suddenly I’m no longer

I barf it up, where it plops in a saliva-coated

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255