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Back The Woman in the Wood Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by M.K. Hill
  3. THE WOMAN IN THE WOOD
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Contents
  7. Epigraph
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. About the Author
  62. An Invitation from the Publisher

‘You’re…’ Abs clicked his fingers, trying desperately to remember his name. ‘Davey… Jenkins.’

The man growled. ‘I said shut up.’

Jenkins had boasted in the press that he had gangster connections and, oh God, he had threatened to get retribution one day for Rhiannon’s death. That was the word he used, retribution. Abs knew what that word meant, because he had made a point of looking it up. It meant vengeance. Revenge.

‘Mate.’ Abs held up his hands, ready to say anything to get these men to let him go, but Jenkins turned forward in his seat and Abs could only appeal to his back. ‘Davey, I can pay you money, I don’t have any on me right now, but I’ll make everything okay, because you’ve made a terrible mistake, yeah? We can sort this out, mate, it’s not too late.’

Davey Jenkins snarled over his shoulder, ‘Pipe down.’

And then they drove in silence, the faceless driver accelerating along the empty streets. Very soon they would leave town altogether, and then God knows where they would take him. To some abandoned factory where he would be tied to a chair and set alight, or to a reservoir where he’d be weighted down with rocks, or into the desert – wait, there wasn’t a desert in the UK, but somewhere like that. Somewhere his body would never be found. His mind was going crazy with all the violent possibilities. Abs knew he had to do something. He looked at the man beside him, who was gazing out the window and smoking, as if he were on a casual moonlight drive. The car screeched round corners, the interior filled with the roar of the engine and the blowing wind, and only slowed at junctions.

But Abs knew there was only one thing he could do. He had to wait for the car to slow – they would surely hit a red light soon – and then open the door and throw himself out. People did it all the time in films, or the stuntmen did, and they escaped with barely a scratch. But this wasn’t the movies, and Abs knew that if he got it wrong, he could be very badly injured. He could be paralysed or knocked out, and all they had to do was turn the car around and aim for him…

Abs let out a little sob. He had to be brave – but the thought of hurling himself out of the car was terrifying. And he knew that if he didn’t make a decision about what to do now, right now, they would drive him somewhere and torture him, kill him – just like they did to Deano.