“Calm down, we can work this out,” Tyrese persisted, desperation in his voice. “You know we can. We love each other.”
“This isn’t love,” Mercy said. “Now let me out.”
There were sounds of a struggle and Tyrese let out a groan and bent over double, falling against the door frame and gasping.
“There was no need -” Tyrese began, panting, clutching his privates and freeing the doorway.
“I told you to move and you wouldn’t,” Mercy said. She pushed past Tyrese, carrying a large suitcase behind her. Her hair and make-up was perfect, as it always was, and she wore a brightly coloured, loose-flowing top and a stretchy white mini-skirt and heels. The overall effect, Brandy thought sourly, was very good.
Mercy caught Brandy watching her and straightened up.
“Got a problem, do you?” Mercy asked, eyeing Brandy with distaste.
“Not if you don’t,” Brandy replied. “What’s going on?”
Tyrese seemed to have gotten his breath back again, and was eyeing Mercy with apprehension and disappointment.
“Mercy, just come back inside and stop causing a scene.”
“Fuck off,” Mercy shouted. “I’ve had enough. We’re finished.”
“You always say that,” Tyrese said, with a trace of a smile.
“This time I mean it,” Mercy said, her voice quiet now. “It’s just not working anymore.”
Tyrese looked about to protest but Mercy held up a hand to stop him. With her other hand, she shifted her bag up on her shoulder.
“I’ll see you around,” she said, and walked off along the corridor towards the stairs. Tyrese groaned and went after her.
Brandy watched them disappear down the stairs, Mercy deliberately ignoring Tyrese’s attempts to persuade her to come back upstairs.
Jessie appeared in the doorway and Brandy followed her into the kitchen, where they both lit cigarettes.
“What was that all about?” Brandy asked.
“The usual,” Jessie replied. “Mercy wants commitment, Tyrese laughs, they argue.”
“It sounded serious.”
“Mercy’s been wanting to get married lately,” Jessie said. “Tyrese doesn’t. Says he doesn’t want to be tied down. Mercy thinks he doesn’t take their relationship seriously and she’s just decided she thinks they should stop messing about.”
“So it’s final then?” Brandy asked, flicking ash into the ashtray.
“Seems that way,” Jessie shrugged. “Good for her, I say.”
“What happened to family loyalty?”
Jessie put out her cigarette and rose to her feet. “I just see where Mercy’s coming from, that’s all. If they don’t love each other anymore, what’s the point in staying together?”
She sauntered off to her bedroom and Brandy sat in silence at the kitchen table. Jessie had a point. So did Mercy. What if Troy no longer loved her? Would it be better for her to just pack up her things and leave, like Mercy had just done. Leave them both free to get on with their lives, perhaps find love elsewhere, rather than trying to keep a dead relationship alive, hurting each other over and over again in the process.
But no, Brandy thought, pulling herself together again. Mercy and Tyrese were different. They probably had fallen out of love. But she and Troy were as in love as ever. They were having problems, but everyone did. It didn’t mean that they should throw everything they had, all their history, away just because it might not work.
No, they would be together forever, Brandy thought. She just had to hold onto that thought.
* * *
Troy spent the rest of the day wondering aimlessly around the flat. Brandy had tried to speak to him but he’d grunted simple responses and walked away, determined to let her suffer like she so often did to him.
Ignoring Brandy had been made easier when Tyrese had returned a few hours after Mercy had walked out. The tension that emanated from his older brother meant that nobody wanted to speak and they sat in silence watching the television. The only thing that broke the monotony of the day was a phone call from the hospital, telling them that Trent was ready to come home. Keskia had been overjoyed and they’d all spent a few minutes congratulating each other, before silence descended over the flat again and Keskia and Jessie went to collect him.
Troy ignored Brandy’s constant attempts to catch his eye, not wanting to be alone with her and wondering irritably if she couldn’t just return to her mother’s flat and be done with it.
After all, it wasn’t like her mother was that bad. Sure, she was a junkie and a hooker, but was that so bad? Troy could think of worse people to have as a mother.
The front door opened and Jessie joined them in the lounge.
“He’s back,” she said. “Mum’s just helping him in now.”
Troy leapt off the sofa and followed Tyrese into the kitchen, just as Keskia helped an unsteady Trent through the front door.
“Kitchen or lounge?” she asked, struggling to support him.
“Lounge.”
Troy and Tyrese crossed the room and each took one of Trent’s arms and half-dragged, half-carried Trent through to the lounge and lowered him onto an armchair whilst Keskia hovered inches behind them, a worried expression on her face.
“Thanks,” Trent said, settling himself down. “And stop worrying mum, the doctors said I was fine to go home.”
Keskia nodded, but didn’t seem convinced, and retreated to the kitchen.
Troy sat back down on the sofa and was joined by Tyrese. Jessie and Brandy lingered on the edge of the room.
“Why don’t you two go help mum in the kitchen?” Tyrese said.
Jessie and Brandy skulked out of the room and closed the door behind them. Troy looked expectantly from Tyrese to Trent, but it was a full minute before either of them spoke.
“So what happened?” Tyrese asked eventually.
“Not much to say,” Trent replied. “They got me down an alley. Don’t know how they knew I’d be there. Just luck, I’d guess.”
“Luck?” Troy asked incredulously.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Trent repeated. It seemed to Troy as if his brother was holding something back, but maybe it was because he was still embarrassed. Hell, he’d be embarrassed if he’d been jumped down an alleyway.
“So where’s my party?” Trent asked, clearly closing the conversation.
Half an hour later, the flat was full of grinding people and loud music. Tyrese and Troy had gone to the shop and bought as much alcohol as they could carry. Trent sat in his armchair, drinking a can of cider, chatting to a long stream of well wishers, most of whom had brought more alcohol along with them.
Troy watched Brandy sitting on the sofa, chatting half-heartedly to a blonde girl who winked in Troy’s direction when Brandy wasn’t looking.
He thought of calling Clint, but quickly pushed the thought from his mind. Whatever friendship they had once shared, Troy was certain that it was over. He briefly wondered whether Clint would bring Aurora, but then decided against that too. He wanted to be alone with Aurora, not seeing her in a room full of people.
Brandy had risen to her feet and crossed the room to stand facing him.
“Do you want to go outside?” she asked.
“No,” Troy shook his head.
The party was kicking off properly now, and he didn’t want to be stuck outside listening to Brandy moan and bitch about everything.
“Come on,” Brandy said, nudging him, sounding put out.
“Fuck off,” Troy snapped.
“Fine, I’ll go home then,” she said, shooting a filthy look at him and storming off through the kitchen and out of the front door.
Troy continued drinking his beer, relieved that she had gone at last. The blonde who had been sitting next to Brandy was now alone and Troy sauntered over and sat down beside her.
“You all right?” he asked, leaning back against the cushions and eyeing her up.
She had a pretty face and a nice body, and she seemed int
erested.
Leaning forward, she smiled, “I am now you’re here. I thought your girlfriend wouldn’t ever fuck off.”
“So did I,” Troy said. “So, what’s your name?”
“Siobhan,” she replied. “No need to ask who you are.”
Troy grinned broadly. This was so much easier than he had anticipated.
“You from the Goldsworth?” he asked her.
Siobhan downed the rest of vodka and coke and pressed closer against him.
“We can carry with all this bullshit, or you can take me straight to your bedroom,” she whispered, licking her lips.
Troy was surprised, but hid it well. He smiled and nodded in the direction of his room. He stood up and led Siobhan through the dancers. His hand was on the door handle when a scream came from the kitchen. The scream was followed by more and everyone seemed to be panicking. Troy looked across the lounge, and Siobhan gasped and dashed away.
Troy groaned. Two policemen were standing in the doorway, and in between them, Serena Patterson stood, looking triumphant.
Troy watched her for a moment, before she caught his eye and he looked away. He saw Siobhan grabbing her handbag and heading to the door as quickly as she could, along with the other guests.
Troy’s pulse quickened and he began to panic. Patterson was here. That meant she was here to make an arrest, and he was certain that it would be him. After all, wasn’t it him who she had been trying to catch for weeks? Glancing at her again, he could see she still wore a look of barely suppressed victory, and he thought he knew why.
As the last of the guests disappeared out of the flat, Troy remained frozen by his bedroom door. Trent remained in his armchair, and Jessie was watching the proceedings with a bored bemusement from his side, dangling precariously from the arm of the chair. Tyrese was still ushering people out of the flat and when the last had gone, he re-joined them in the lounge, a falsely cheery smile on his face.
“What can we do for you?” he asked, addressing Patterson. “It was just a party. You could have just knocked on the door if someone’s made a noise complaint.”
“Exactly, and it’s not like the neighbours are quiet,” Jessie piped up, but went quiet after a furious look from Tyrese.
“Anyway,” Tyrese continued, “the party’s over now. No need to hang around.”
A bedroom door opened and Keskia emerged, a dressing gown clutched at her chest. She looked wearily around the room, eyes lingering on Patterson with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.
“What are you lot doing here?” she demanded. “You know what time it is?”
“I’m sorry for the intrusion,” Patterson said, smiling. “It’s just -”
“And I suppose you have a warrant?” Keskia persisted. “As you’re standing in my living room bold as brass.”
“We have an arrest warrant,” Patterson explained.
The colour drained out of Keskia’s face and she went silent. Troy saw Tyrese and Trent exchange looks but remained frozen.
As Patterson stepped forward, Tyrese moved almost imperceptibly to his left, so that he was in front of Troy. Patterson seemed to notice and for a moment looked intrigued, but then she continued across the room and stood in front of Trent, the two policemen flanking her.
“Trent Banks,” Patterson said. “You are under arrest for the murders of Wright O’Neill and Sasha Morton. You have the right to remain silent -”
“What?” Trent cried out. “Are you crazy? I never did that.”
“The evidence suggests otherwise, mister Banks,” Patterson smiled. “Now, if you’ll stand up, we need to take you down to the station.”
“I want to see a lawyer,” Trent demanded, remaining sitting. Jessie hastily moved away from the armchair and crossed the room to join her mother, who was looking just as scared.
“You can see your lawyer down at the station,” Patterson said. “Now, please stand up.”
“What proof have you got?” Tyrese asked, stepping forward. The two policemen looked at him wearily but Patterson shook her head.
“We found the murder weapon that was used to kill them both,” Patterson explained, looking at Tyrese. “Forensics examined the gun and found fingerprints. There was a match on the system and it turned out to be your brother’s. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Patterson’s voice had gone more forceful as she turned to Trent once more, whose face was a picture of confusion. He looked from Tyrese to Troy and then to Patterson, who was standing over him, hands on hips.
Troy watched the scene, feeling his heart rate slowing down. Of course, he’d stolen Trent’s gun to kill them and he’d worn gloves, but he’d forgotten to wipe the gun down in case either of his brothers’ prints were still on it.
“Come on, Banks, time to go,” Patterson said.
Trent reluctantly rose to his feet and Patterson slid the handcuffs around his wrists and snapped them shut.
“Don’t worry, we’ll call a lawyer right now,” Tyrese called out, as Trent was led out of the flat.
Before they left, Troy caught Patterson’s eye again and this time held her gaze. It was if she knew he was really responsible, and he shuddered.
The front door closed behind them but the room remained silent.
Keskia was the first to speak, in a shaking voice.
“I’ll ring a lawyer,” she said, heading to the kitchen. “I knew this would happen, I just knew it. It was only a matter of time.”
The door closed behind her, and Troy waited a moment before releasing his grip on the door handle and sitting on the sofa.
Tyrese turned to face him, his face unreadable.
“You’re just going to let him get sent down?” he asked, eyeing Troy with doubt. “You did it, but you’re going to sit there and let Trent do time for you?”
Troy opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Your own brother?” Tyrese continued, his voice rising. “Scared of prison, are you? If you weren’t prepared to take the consequences, why the fuck did you do it?”
Troy shook his head, still unable to speak. His mind was racing. He knew, as Tyrese spoke, that he wouldn’t be able to face prison. For all he told people, he knew he wouldn’t survive behind bars. He couldn’t face it.
He looked up and Tyrese was looking at him expectantly, a vein in his forehead throbbing.
“Lost your nerve have you?” he shouted, making Troy jump. “Not such a big man now are you?”
“I forgot to wipe it down,” Troy stammered. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Tyrese shouted, incredulous. “Sorry don’t cut it. Try telling Trent that when he gets sent down. I thought you understood where we were coming from, but you clearly didn’t. You only do something if you’re willing to do time for it. You don’t let someone else take the rap -”
“You do,” Troy interrupted, before he could stop himself. “You and Trent always let other people go down for stuff you do.”
“They work for us, and they get paid well for it,” Tyrese said. “They understand that and they accept it. And that’s small fry, a few months. Maybe a year. Small time drugs charges, not fucking double murder.”
“I’m sorry,” Troy repeated, knowing it was a lame response.
He thought of his reputation. Surely it would be in tatters now, after everyone knew that he had let his own brother be sent down for a crime that he’d done. All because he was too scared to hand himself in. The very thought of coming clean made Troy’s palms sweat and he knew that his bravado had deserted him.
“So you’re not going to help him out?” Tyrese asked, though the answer was clear enough. Before Troy could respond, Tyrese continued, “Right, well, you can consider yourself well and truly ditched. You ain’t man enough to be involved in this kind of thing.”
“What about Corey?” Troy asked, eyes widening. He had been hoping that this could help him regain some respect from his brothers, but Tyrese’s eyes widened in shock.
“You ain’t
cut out for this,” Tyrese said. “You’re a fucking pussy. I’ll take Corey out, you can stay here and thing about all the shit you’ve just caused.”
Troy opened his mouth to protest but closed it quickly. He didn’t want to anger his brother anymore.
Tyrese headed for the door, but it opened before he reached it and Keskia emerged, looking worried.
“I’ve called a lawyer,” Keskia told them, “He said he’ll go straight down to the station.”
“He say anything else?” Tyrese asked.
“He said he’d do everything he can,” Keskia answered. “But he said, well, that it didn’t look good for Trent.”
“Well, I’ve got to go out,” Tyrese said, heading for the door, shooting Troy a murderous glare.
Keskia looked alarmed, “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got to sort out some business,” Tyrese replied. “Troy, you stay here and look after mum, if you can manage that.”
He reached for the door but Jessie threw herself in front of him.
“No, you can’t go,” she said, her face panic-stricken. “Just stay here, please.”
“Get out the way,” Tyrese said. “I’ve just got to -”
“No, I know what you’re going to do. You’re going to kill Corey.”
“Oh Lord,” Keskia cried, raising a shaking hand to her heart. “Tyrese, you can’t!”
“Listen, both of you,” Tyrese said, trying to control his mounting temper. “I’ve got to, this is important.”
“More important than your family?” Keskia said. “You’ve just seen what’s happened to Trent. Do you want the same thing to happen to you?”
“It won’t,” Tyrese said firmly.
“Please, don’t,” Jessie cried, tears running down her face, “You can’t kill him. Please, he’s not a bad person -”
“You don’t know him,” Tyrese persisted.
Jessie continued to block the doorway.
“I do know him,” Jessie said. “He’s Jazz’s brother. Him and Jayden. They’re really nice, they’re not as bad as you make them out to be.”
“You’ve been hanging out with them?” Tyrese snapped, eyeing Jessie angrily. “After everything we’ve told you about them, you’ve been -”
The Goldsworth Series Box Set Page 34