All Chapters of The Master's Child: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Striding to the bedroom door, I elbow down the handle, kicking the door wide as I carry her to the bed. And there I lay her on the comforter, still wearing my shirt, her combs working loose to release her hair into a wild red tumble."Larry...""Shhh... My turn first." I lie beside her. "Yours in a while." Nuzzling into her neck, I let my fingers wander south, creeping back under the shirt. "It suits you, you know."She chuckles; that deep-down low-throated chuckle that is so Mitch. "Glad you approve. Perhaps you'd like to keep a stock of them in my wardrobe."I hover a moment, turning over the implications of that...An invitation to move in?Then, rolling her onto her back. with my hand lightly between her breasts, I press her down. "Stay there. Be comfortable." She sighs, relaxing back, but all the while, her eyes follow me.Moving to kneel between her thighs, I drift my fingertips in a slow line over the tender skin between knee and inner thigh. Mitch groans, lett

MichaelI poke my head around the lounge door. Mitch, with Cara sleeping close by, holds up some floppy thing in shades of pale rose and marshmallow. "What do you think?" "I think pink unicorns should rule the world. Have you seen James?""Not for a while. He was in here a couple of hours ago, looking for Larry. Maybe you'll find them together."Hmmm...*****JamesThe door opens...Oh, God... Who is it?It's Michael. His eyes settle on me and his jaw drops."The fucking key's on the table," I snarl.He strides across the room, snatches up the key, then drops to one knee beside me and clicks into the handcuff."Don't say a fucking word."His tone is mild. "If you notice, I wasn't saying anything.""Yes, your silence was fucking deafening."He stands, then offers me a hand, hauling me upright. "Klempner?""Klempner. I'll fucking...""What? What will you do, James? He's doing his best to keep you out of trouble.""He fucking hand-cuffed me in my own d

Pistol in hand, I make the short run back to the bollards and now I see him: Baxter is driving slowly along the main street. I'm looking at his rear windscreen.By habit, I take aim, but...Clear shot?Not like this...My Glock is a first-rate handgun, but right now I could wish for a rifle.To get a reliable shot at Baxter, I need to be closer and ahead of him, or at least with a decent side view: not necessarily a good idea when facing a man armed with a car.On these streets, while he's in the vehicle, Baxter has an overwhelming advantage over me; he's not just faster, but, as is not always appreciated, a car is a fearsome weapon in its own right. I have no wish to find my legs sandwiched between his bumper and the nearest wall.On the other hand...How to get Baxter out of his vehicle? Or at least, disadvantageously trapped inside it?Ah, yes...The game is afoot, Watson...Ducking back out of sight, and shielding the screen of my mobile with my hand to contai

JamesWe arrive back home. I'm bone tired. Michael walks with a slump. Klempner moves like a zombie, except that I don't think zombies suffer from violent shivering.Mitch is waiting for us. As we enter through the front door heading for the lounge, she bursts from the kitchen, intercepting us. Her eyes are wide with warning. "James...""That's enough, Miss Kimberley," barks a voice. My heart sinks. It's not as though I don't know the owner of the voice.Will Stanton emerges from the lounge; armed and uniformed officers behind him. More pour out from the dining room. He stabs fingers in all directions. "You, you and you. You're at the doors. No-one comes in or out of this house without my say-so first.He turns to another... "You..." then aims a finger at Klempner... "will watch this man. That is your only duty. You will not take your eyes from him. If he moves without my permission, you will raise the alarm. If he tries to run, you will shoot him."Then he turns back to

Thirteen Years Ago.Jenny stands in line with the others, Mr Klempner looking them over. Lips pursed, he casts a toxic glance at Supervisor Jenkins, who straightens up in a poor copy of attention.Mr Klempner passes to the end of the line first. The boy there is small, blond and blue-eyed, pretty enough to be a girl. Far prettier than Jenny.Mr Klempner hunkers down to the boy's level, hitching up his trousers at the knee. "And what's your name?""Pieter, sir." The voice is piping, an accent edging through the words.Mr Klempner Hmmms in satisfaction. "You have a nice voice, Pieter. A nice face too. I know someone who will like you."Then he moves to the next in line: a girl. She's older, with a round face and blotchy skin. He tips up her chin to get a better look. "Mmmm... Can't say the same about you, can we? Face like a potato. You're never going to be pretty."The girl squeezes her eyes closed. Her shoulders shaking, she looks away. Mr Klempner isn't interested. He mo