Set Me Free by Steven Moore, Luke Richardson (The Liberator: A Natalie Kaye Vigilante Thriller #3)
Requirements: .ePUB reader, 622 KB
Overview: Kayla Stone wants answers. This time, she knows exactly who to ask. Kayla Stone and Father O’Shea have a turbulent, violent history. Yet she needs to confront him a final time. For once, Kayla knows exactly where he is. There’s only problem; he’s locked up in a maximum-security prison. O’Shea’s past is as gloomy as San Francisco’s infamous fog. But in a city rife with gangsters, Kayla isn’t the only person with justice on her mind and revenge in her sights. So, when O’Shea’s prisoner transport is ambushed by the local mafia, Kayla has another life-threatening decision to make… Should she chase the answers she needs into a world of crime, corruption and lies? Or should she escape with her life? On a twisting trail around Golden Gate City, and with the truth closer than she’d ever expected, Kayla learns that sometimes, revenge is a dish best served hot.
Genre: Fiction > Mystery/Thriller
October 5th, 1984.
It had been raining the night it all went wrong. Not just raining though, he would remember later. Absolutely hammering down. It was as though the sky had a score to settle against the grey-fronted terraces of Brighton’s dreary, ungrateful seafront.
The tyres of their pale blue Vauxhall Cavalier swished through great swells of water on the promenade road. He glanced at the closed arcades as they passed, their shutters drawn down against the ravaging storm. Their usual celebratory lights had been muted with the turn of the weather, the machines no doubt switched off and now dark.
He had been in similar arcades as a boy — Cushendon most summers, occasionally Port Rush. He’d been a dab hand at the penny drop machine, more deft than his mates at grabbing the teddy bear with the mechanical claw. He imagined a similar teddy bear now inside those arcades; its wide eyes staring out at the forlorn space, the steel claw suspended above its head indefinitely without the keen hand of a well-financed child to operate it.
A sudden torrent of water crashing across the Cavalier’s windscreen snapped him from his memories. The concrete-coloured sea was taking its own pound of flesh from the promenade tonight too. He peered at the red and white stripes of a kiosk on the seafront and the black and grey maelstrom of the incoming weather beyond. The car’s radio rattled between stations, barely audible above the warring weather.
Life had been much simpler back in those childhood days, he reflected. Those long days of buckets and spades, jam sandwiches, collections of shells and sand between his toes. He knew nothing of the world’s injustices, The Cause, or of the man who sat beside him.
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