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 gunmen, soldiers,
It’s just a rat…
scratching. And a
an abyss, the abyss will gaze back at
Who said that?
Nietzsche?
Depressing bastard…
abyss comes equipped with teeth and whiskers. I come equipped with fists and feet. Between us, we settle
*****
do you know what Stockholm
her eyes. She takes something from her lunchbox, unwrapping one of her
kidnap or hostage situation, the prisoner forms an attachment to the
“You saying you're getting
mockery, but I have her attention. “… But there's a reverse condition. It's called
“So?”
I your only
a brigadeiro. A flake of chocolate cracks off the
do you keep coming
in her chewing, mouth hanging a little
do you keep coming? If all you wanted was to watch me rot, you have your camera there.” I jerk
me to feed you? We can always change that you
could leave me a bag of potatoes and come once
swallows, not speaking, simply regarding me. I continue. “Am I your only friend, Sola? Is that
“So, you're
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.
her arms, sits back in her seat, arches her brows. “I am
eyes, 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 her face. “Have
“Solana…” she hisses.
the rancid concrete, some of it dropping just this side of that painted line, now less than white. Even under the heavy make-up, her colour has changed. White-faced, white-lipped, scarlet spots at
on her heel, she stalks
as the chain snaps taut, I snatch up the discarded meal from the filthy concrete, scrabbling to grab broken fragments of meat
adjust to the green blink of the camera. It hardly
meat-and-veg-stuffed delicacy is almost untouched, only a single bite taken from
not eaten anything like
For how long?
sense of
I had a
empanada, then another,
and
meal, I barf it up, where it plops in a saliva-coated
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