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…

scratching.

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

Who said that?

Nietzsche?

Depressing bastard…

equipped with teeth and whiskers. I come equipped with fists and feet.

*****

do you know

lunchbox, unwrapping one of her

for a psychological condition where, in a kidnap

you're getting attached to

tilts. She pretending mockery, but I have her attention. “… But

“So?”

I your

flake of chocolate cracks off the small round cake, dropping back into the napkin and she dabs it up with a fingertip then

do you

mouth

do you keep coming? If all you wanted was to watch me rot, you have your camera there.” I jerk my chin up to

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

leave me a bag of potatoes and come once a week.

and swallows, not speaking, simply regarding me. I continue. “Am I your only friend, Sola? Is that it? You've murdered everyone else that might

swings her head, giggling. “So, you're my friend

think 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

back in her seat, arches her brows. “I

to have changed. Who ever really changes?” I

“Solana…” she hisses.

Instead, she stands, the lunchbox tumbling from her lap. The contents spill and scatter over the rancid concrete, some of it dropping just this

her heel, she stalks

up the discarded meal from the filthy concrete,

blind, my eyes adjust to the green blink of the camera. It hardly matters. My attention is on the wealth

bite taken from the corner. And I

eaten anything like

For how long?

Months? My sense of time is

had a

of empanada, then another, I ram the

soon. Half-chewed pulp goes down the wrong way and suddenly

gagging on my scavenged meal, I barf it up,

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