The Kill

THE KILL EVIE HUNTER CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Acknowledgments More from Evie Hunter About the Author The Murder List About Boldwood Books 1 Sebastian Carter fixed Henshaw, a screw who’d had a hard-on for Seb throughout the final phase of his incarceration, with a cutting look. Dismissing the man from his mind as an irrelevance, he stepped through the unlocked gate and embraced the sweet, fresh taste of real freedom for the first time in six years. The majority of the prison officers had treated him with respect. Money talked, even behind bars. Especially there. Henshaw had made it clear that he bore Seb a grudge. He had probably been paid to make his life difficult by one of Seb’s father’s rivals. Seb’s reputation had preceded him throughout the prison system, inflated no doubt through his father’s influence, despite that interference being unasked for and unappreciated. Henshaw had it in for Seb, no question about it. Probably had a death wish too, given Seb’s father’s long reach and hard reputation. Henshaw was definitely on the take, Seb knew, but then who wasn’t? Every man for himself in this dog-eat-dog world. Henshaw had made sure that Seb was alone in the shower block when his father’s rivals had wanted a quiet word. But the prison guard’s jaw had dropped open when Seb walked away from the confrontation whistling and unscathed, which was more than could be said for the two men who’d launched a clumsy attack. Seb winked at the bent screw and Henshaw knew his card had been marked. Seb had kept his head down and avoided confrontation whenever possible, unless it came looking for him, and had done his time quietly. Henshaw was the only thorn in his side in this open prison, his last accommodation at His Majesty’s pleasure before they were obliged to release him. There had been others in the Cat Two jails he’d occupied though; inmates who wanted to prove how hard they were. Screws who enjoyed their little bit of power and liked to enforce it. There were always others. Seb could have walked free three years previously, had he admitted to the crime he’d been found guilty of committing and shown suitable remorse. But Seb hadn’t done it and was buggered if he’d take the credit. ‘Be lucky, Carter,’ Henshaw said in what was for him a conciliatory tone as he pulled the gate wide for Seb to walk through. Seb didn’t even look in his direction as he straightened the collar of the leather jacket that had festered in the prison store for the duration of his incarceration. It was loose around his waist; he’d lost weight but had toned up in the prison gym. His shoulders were as broad as ever, filling out the worn leather, and his mind was still a steel trap. Six years was a long time to contemplate the form his revenge would take for being fitted up for murder and eventually going down for manslaughter. Seb had every intention of exacting that revenge but without landing himself back inside. Outside the gates, Seb paused to throw back his head and breathe deeply the crisp autumnal air that kissed his face and brought his dormant body slowly back to life. A sleek black car with tinted windows glided up to his side. The back door swung open and Seb slid onto the soft leather. ‘Okay, boss?’ Seb’s right-hand man, Patrick Risdon, asked from his seat beside the driver. ‘Never better, Pat,’ Seb replied, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. A man of few words as a general rule, he had exercised his vocal chords even less frequently over the past six years, speaking only when he had something worth saying. The constant noise inside didn’t need any contribution from him. The place was never quiet: arguments, shouting, fights, men jerking off in the middle of the night. Others crying for their mothers. Seb had survived by allowing it all to wash over him and for his reputation as a man to be reckoned with to do the talking for him. He was afforded respect, for the most part, and left to his own devices. To a degree. ‘Good to see you, boss,’ said Mark from behind the wheel. A bull of a man who could intimidate even when smiling – especially then – Mark was as loyal and dependable as they came. Seb’s time inside was made that little bit easier by the knowledge that Mark was looking after what mattered the most to Seb. Mark would kill any man with his bare hands if he came within spitting distance of Seb’s sister Lily, or even looked at her the wrong way. ‘Mark,’ Seb replied. The two men exchanged a nod and a significant look. That was all it took. Normal business was resumed, and the first item on the agenda was for Seb to discover who’d fitted him up. Given that he’d had little else to think about for six years, he already had a pretty good idea where to start looking for answers. Pat did too but Seb had made him hold off. This was Seb’s mess, and he would deal with it. He didn’t need anyone else to fight his battles for him and land inside themselves. This was personal. Besides, Seb had held onto an idealistic hope of not only uncovering the guilty party but of clearing his own name too. That dream had helped him to get through. ‘Welcome back to the land of the living,’ Pat said. ‘Straight home? Got a surprise waiting for you.’ ‘Better not be a fucking party.’ Pat chuckled. ‘Do I look like I’ve got a death wish?’ Seb settled back and watched the passing scenery as he was driven in smooth