Page 32 of His Dark Purpose

Why shouldn’t his brother go there and see their mother? It had been months since he’d allowed her to visit him in prison, and no doubt she would adore having Seth around, but what would Kyle think? He’d already had to deal with one of her wayward sons—how would her wealthy suitor contend with Seth?

“Why not?” Seth laughed. “Don’t you think I’ll get a warm welcome?”

“Mum will be ecstatic,” Jonah replied. “But Kyle can be a little difficult.”

“I’ll cope.” Seth was characteristically sure of himself. “I’ve met bigger baddies than Kyle, believe me.”

Jonahdidbelieve him. He had no clue how Seth had survived jail time, but he thanked his lucky stars each day that he hadn’t had to go there himself.

“So.” Seth sighed, his exasperation showing. “What’s the address?”

“Do you have a pen and paper there?” Jonah took the phone in his hands and scanned through the device, looking for the address of Brock Hall.

“Yeah, sure, Jo.” Seth sniggered. “I’m just sitting here in the library with my books and pencils just waiting for you to give me the details.”

“Oh, fuck you.” There was the Seth that Jonah remembered—mouthy and never lacking balls. “Do you want the address or not?”

“I want it.” Seth’s voice was emphatic. “I’m ready to see, Mum.”

***

Seth

He was more fortunate than most. Many of the guys he’d known had no one waiting for them on the outside of prison. The Kendal family had little in the way of titles and properties, but they’d never been short of love, and even though his dad had died, his mum and brother had always been there for him.

“Even when I fucked up.” He mumbled the words at the ATM as the last of the money Jonah had sent him slid out of the hole in the wall.

He and his little brother hadn’t always had the greatest relationship, but since Graham’s death, they’d grown closer—or, at least, they might have done had he not gone and got himself into trouble with the law.

As for their mum, she’d made the trip to visit him in prison regularly before he moved to a more local facility. After that, he’d written to ask her to stop. He couldn’t bear seeing her wearied expression month after month, couldn’t tolerate the fact that he was at least partially responsible for the new lines he saw etched onto her face every visit. He had the sense she was down on her luck, too, and even though she’d never admit so to him, the fact she hadn’t argued and insisted she visit validated his view—she was probably struggling to find the money to make the round trip.

Guilt knotted in his stomach at the thought of her efforts. Time in jail, witnessing the relentless rounds of addicted youths and hardened criminals, had helped give him perspective. He had a mother who loved him, and she deserved better than the shitty lot she’d been given. Liberated with a new sense of purpose, Seth’s first urge had been to find his mum and tell her he loved her.

It had been too long.

Shoving the cash into his pocket, he headed for the line of people waiting for taxis as he pulled out his phone. The basic model was all he could afford with the limited money he’d had on his person the day he’d been incarcerated, but it had been enough to make the purchase and get in touch with his family. He’d tried his mum’s number first, of course, but when she hadn’t answered, he’d called Jonah.

Watching the queue of passengers move ahead of him, he flicked into the note he’d created to capture their mother’s new address.

Brock Hall.

Seth’s gaze widened. William Kyle must have some serious money to be able to call somewhere like that his home. Seth hoped he wasn’t the sort of rich dick who flashed his cash and expected everyone to fall into line. He despised those morons.

“So long as he looks after Mum,” he resolved, inching to the front of the line.

“Where to, mate?” The balding taxi driver stared him up and down from the front seat.

“Brock Hall in Houghton Brough, please.” Even saying the address out loud sounded pompous. Seth could only imagine what the place was actually like—Jonah’s information had been frustratingly sketchy.

“Brock Hall?” The driver sounded skeptical.

“That’s right.” Seth straightened, fed up with the judgment in the guy’s eyes. “Is that all right with you?”

“Sure.” The driver raised a hand in a conciliatory manner. “So long as you can pay, mate, you can jump in.”

“I have the cash,” he promised, walking to open the rear door.

“Then I’ll take you.” The driver eyed Seth as he settled on the back seat and closed the door. “A friend of yours lives at Brock Hall, do they?”

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