PRINT
A job he can’t refuse will place the woman he loves in unimaginable danger.
Things look to be going great for Kyle. He’s finally become a fully fledged member of the Fox family and his relationship with Millie gets stronger every day. Then a phone call from a man he thought he’d never hear from again threatens to destroy everything he’s worked so hard to build up.
Dutch crime boss Henk Brouwer needs Kyle to transport a shipment of drugs from Rotterdam to London, and he won’t take no for an answer. Kyle tries to disguise his errand as a holiday, taking Millie along for the ride. What begins as an idyllic weekend away turns dark when the job goes south and Henk’s gang is involved in a shoot-out with the police. With Millie’s life at stake, Kyle must fight to save her from an increasingly desperate Henk and prove once and for all that he is worthy of her love.
General Release Date: 28th April 2026
The sky over Southend was dark and overcast—the perfect weather for a solemn day. Out of season, the seafront was quiet. Only a few hardy souls walked their dogs along the beach, and most of the shops and restaurants that would be packed with tourists in the height of summer were now shuttered and dark.
I paid the entrance fee to the pier for both Millie and myself, and we stepped onto the faded wooden planking. The place had changed a lot from how I remembered it as a kid—most of the old pier head structure had been rebuilt after it was destroyed in a fire nearly twenty years ago—but the long, slow stroll to the end was still the same.
Millie didn’t say a word as we walked, but she took my hand and clutched it tightly. I’d been surprised, and more than a little disappointed, when Mum had told me she didn’t want to be buried in the big cemetery at Manor Park alongside her own mum and dad. I’d had visions of standing by her graveside, chatting to her like I’d done so often when she’d been alive. Asking for her advice, even though she was no longer around to give it to me. But she’d told me she thought cemeteries were morbid, and even though she’d laid a wreath on her parents’ grave every Christmas, she’d always hated those visits. Instead, she wanted me to scatter her ashes in a place that held only happy memories.
“So, you used to come here a lot?” Millie asked as we stood looking down at the lacy froth of the waves around the pillars holding the pier in place.
“Yeah, we’d have day trips every summer when I was little. I used to love it. We’d make sandcastles on the beach, eat ice cream.” My face creased in a smile as the memories flooded back. “Sometimes we’d walk out to the end of the pier, then ride back to the seafront on the little train they have. And as I got older, I thought, one day I’ll have kids of my own, and I’ll bring them here. Maybe their nan will come too…” My voice cracked.
No chance of that happening now, not with Mum gone.
Millie squeezed my hand, offering me silent comfort. She’d been my rock in the days following Mum’s death, when I’d been so numb with grief I could barely get out of bed. I’d kept telling myself it wouldn’t come as a shock when she passed, given how long I’d had to get used to the knowledge that her cancer was terminal. Still, as I’d sat beside Mum’s bed in the hospice and she’d taken her final rattling breaths, my first instinct had been to grab the doctor and tell him to do something—anything—to bring her back to me.
“You’re doing the right thing, you know, Kyle.” Millie leaned a little closer to me. “This is a nice way to say goodbye to her.”
As I reached for the straps of my rucksack and shrugged it off my shoulders, light drops of rain began to fall, dampening any urge I might have had to string this moment out. I unzipped the pack and took out the nondescript metal urn containing Mum’s ashes.
Her funeral ceremony replayed in my head as I removed the lid of the urn. It had been so different from the previous one I’d attended, only a few months earlier. Charlie Fox’s death had attracted hundreds of mourners and a scrum of journalists keen to capture every detail. Only a handful of people had come to say their goodbyes to Mum. It had warmed my heart that Marcia, the nurse who’d done everything she could to keep Mum’s spirits up towards the end, had been one of them. The vicar had said a few platitudes, we’d sung The Lord Is My Shepherd, then Mum’s coffin had disappeared behind the crematorium curtain to the strains of Call Me, her favourite Blondie song. I pictured her dancing around the kitchen and singing along to it, her voice loud and out of tune, and knew the memory would always keep her alive in my heart.
Millie gave my arm a gentle tap. “Hey, are you okay? Only…” As she spoke, she pulled the hood of her jacket up. The rain was coming harder now, darkening the wooden planks beneath our feet and pelting the surface of the water.
I nodded and took a deep breath. “Goodbye, Mum.” My words were barely above a whisper. “Love you.” I shook the urn, and the cold grey ashes swirled in the wind as they were carried out to sea.
For a moment after the last of them was gone, I stood staring out over the churning waves. My face was wet, tears mingling with the rainwater, and I swiped at my cheeks. There were so many things I’d never be able to say to Mum now, so many mistakes I’d made that I’d never have the chance to put right. But I couldn’t regret the things I’d done, or the life I’d led, because if I’d made different choices, I knew I wouldn’t be standing here with Millie by my side.
I turned away from the sea and placed the urn back in the rucksack. I glanced at Millie, who stood lost in her own thoughts. “Come on, let’s go get a hot drink. I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing.”
* * * *
We found a little café on the esplanade and grabbed a table next to a couple of men in hi-vis gear who were tucking into full English breakfasts and leafing through newspapers. My stomach growled at the smell of fried food and tomato ketchup, and when the waitress came to take our order, I asked for a bacon and egg sandwich to go with my mug of tea.
When the food arrived, I attacked it as if I hadn’t eaten anything for a week.
Millie raised an eyebrow as I wiped egg yolk from my lips.
“What?” I said in answer to her unspoken question. “I couldn’t face breakfast this morning. Not when—”
“Hey, I’m not judging you.” She laid a hand on my arm. Her gaze was soft and compassionate. “I understand how stressful this must have been. I’ll admit, it’s making me think about what might happen when my own parents—” She sipped her latte, unable to finish whatever she’d wanted to say.
“It’s not just that. The post came before I left the flat. I—I got the sealed deed this morning.” She regarded me with a baffled expression, and I went on, “It means they’ve officially accepted my change of name. I’m Kyle Ferguson-Fox now.”
Millie sat back in her seat and fiddled with the end of her ponytail, clearly processing all the implications of my announcement. “You didn’t tell me you were planning to do this.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it for a while, even before Mum died. When I helped Cameron and Connor rob the jeweller’s…that was when I felt like they’d finally accepted me as part of the family. That I was really a brother to them. And it seemed right to combine who I’d always been with who I am now, if that makes sense. So, I downloaded all the forms, went to see a solicitor, did everything by the book.” Millie scoffed and I glanced at her. “What’s so funny?”
“Just the thought of you complying with the law for once.”
“Joke all you want. I can do the right thing when I have to. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be the owner of a successful café right now.” I took another bite of my sandwich and chewed as the reality of my new identity continued to sink in. “I was intending to tell you about the deed poll when the time was right. Now I’ve got to go through the tedious parts of changing all my details with the bank, applying for a new passport, but that should all be easy enough, right? I mean, women do it all the time when they get married, don’t they?”
Millie shrugged and set her empty coffee cup down. “That depends on the woman. When my friend Amanda tied the knot, she did the American thing of keeping her maiden name as well as taking her husband’s name. But I’m sure you won’t have any problems.”
The two men on the neighbouring table got up to leave. One of them went over to the counter to pay for their breakfasts while the other lingered by the door, scrolling through something on his phone. When I checked my watch, I realised it was almost midday. Glancing out of the window, I noticed the rain appeared to be easing. It was time to head back to London. I intended to drop Millie off at the café, then spend a quiet afternoon lazing around the flat.
As we got up from the table, my phone rang. I would have let it go to voicemail and deal with whoever was calling when I was home, but it was a Dutch phone number, and that demanded my immediate attention. I only knew one person who would call me from the Netherlands. It was one of the last people I wanted to speak to, but someone I’d learnt better than to ignore.
Henk Brouwer.
Add to Wishlist
Read a Sample
Send as a Gift
Facebook
Twitter
Newsletter