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
It’s just a rat…
openings, more scratching. And
an abyss, the
Who said that?
Nietzsche?
Depressing bastard…
comes equipped with teeth and whiskers. I come equipped with fists and feet. Between us,
*****
do you know what
something from her lunchbox, unwrapping one of her usual dainties from a
a psychological condition where, in a kidnap
“You saying you're
She pretending mockery, but I have her attention. “… But there's a reverse condition. It's called Lima syndrome, where
“So?”
I your
A flake of chocolate cracks off the small round cake, dropping back into the napkin and she dabs it up with
why do you keep coming
chewing, mouth hanging a little open.
to watch me rot, you have your camera there.”
to feed you. I assume you do want me to feed you? We
bag of potatoes and come once a week. Or even, once a month. But, so far
speaking, simply regarding me. I continue. “Am I your only friend,
giggling. “So, you're my friend
someone's going to come and save you, Larry? You believe you're worth saving? That there's 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 shipped me out to dig up potatoes for the rest of my life. Along with all the others you did the same to. You’ve not changed. And I’m
back in her seat, arches her brows.
to have changed. Who ever really changes?” I raise
“Solana…” she hisses.
it
her heel,
myself at the fallen food, ignoring the jab of pain in my ankle as the chain snaps taut, I snatch up the discarded meal from the filthy concrete, scrabbling to grab broken fragments of meat in one hand, a cake with the other before, with a
eyes adjust to the green blink of the camera. It hardly matters. My attention
untouched, only a single bite taken from the corner. And I have half of
eaten anything like this for…
For how long?
Weeks? Months? My sense of time is out
had a
then another, I ram
down the wrong way and suddenly
my scavenged meal, I barf it
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