The Goldsworth Series Box Set

by Davie J Toothill

  “I’m fine,” Aurora lied. She forced a smile, but it felt unnatural. If Zoe noticed, she did not pursue it. “How are you feeling about it?”

  Zoe shrugged, trying and failing to appear unconcerned.

  Aurora leant forward and clasped her hand in hers.

  “We’ll be fine, Zoe, don’t worry,” she said. Zoe blinked hard, and Aurora wondered if her friend was going to cry. She composed herself and nodded along with Aurora. Aurora smiled encouragingly. “Troy won’t hurt us, I promise you. He might have got out of prison, but that doesn’t mean he’s got away with what he’s done.”

  Zoe nodded, looking reassured, the meaning behind her words lost on her.

  “I’ll put the kettle on,” Aurora said, and Zoe thanked her.

  Aurora paused as she rose from the sofa, wondering what her friend would say if she shared her thoughts of revenge. If anyone would understand, maybe it was her. Zoe looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to speak. Aurora’s lips parted, but she did not speak.

  She would not share her thoughts. They were hers alone, until she had decided what they meant and whether they had a meaning beyond her tormented, sleep-deprived mind. As she went into the kitchen, she thought about Zoe, on the brink of tears, and her mother, jumping every time someone knocked at the door. They deserved better than to live in fear like this, she thought, they deserved to be free from Troy.

  Surely everyone would be better off without him. If prison could not take him out of their lives, then perhaps that burden fell upon her. She had meant what she had told Zoe.

  Troy had got out of prison, but he would not get away with what he had done.

  Aurora would make sure of that, one way or another.

  * * *

  The Healy house was a not just a home but a compound. Not only did they live here but they ran business from here; it was the headquarters of both their personal and criminal lives.

  As Sanjay was led into the kitchen, he observed the security measures the brothers had taken and knew at once that Tyrese was right in thinking that the Healy brothers were far higher up in the game than they were. Metal doors, hiding places, CCTV. He thought of the Banks brothers in their mum’s shit-hole flat and knew there was no doubt as to who had the upper hand if a turf war erupted once again.

  In the kitchen, Jayden and Corey sat eyeing him cautiously as he followed one of their henchmen inside. Jayden looked interested, but Corey’s eyes were narrowed. The kitchen was clean, no dishes left out and no food left on the counters to defrost. Sanjay wondered if it was always kept this tidy, after all it was where they ran things and dirty dish towels hanging from the back of the kitchen chairs would have set a very different tone.

  After an almost imperceptible nod of Jayden’s head, the henchman left the three of them alone, closing the door behind them.

  Sanjay dragged a chair out and sat down across from them.

  “I was expecting your visit,” Jayden said, crossing his arms and leaning back. Every movement exuded authority. He was the boss, Sanjay knew. “I can guess what this is about. I mean, Tyrese Banks is predictable, if anything.”

  “Nothing gets past you,” Sanjay said.

  Jayden didn’t smile but Sanjay thought he saw the corners of his lips twitch. He glanced at Corey, who still looked like he wanted to throw him out on the street.

  “Why are you here?” Corey asked, his tone blunt. He clearly had not picked up on what his brother already had.

  Sanjay opened his mouth to answer, but Jayden spoke first.

  “Tyrese Banks wants to strike a deal,” he said, not looking at his brother but his gaze fixed on Sanjay’s face. Sanjay knew he was reading it for his reaction. Though he tried to remain impassive, something in his expression made Jayden smile, confirmed what he had already known. Sanjay shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, and Jayden’s smile widened. “I’m hazarding a guess; he keeps the Goldsworth, and nobody gets hurt. Am I right?”

  Sanjay nodded, surprised by how intuitive Jayden was. He had known he was smart, he always had been, but he wondered if Tyrese had underestimated him. It had been a long time since the three of them had hung out at school, and they had all changed. Perhaps he had underestimated him too, Sanjay worried, feeling a flicker of panic.

  Corey laughed, surprising them both. He slapped his hand on the table, shaking his head. The laughter didn’t reach his eyes; they flared with anger instead.

  “This is a fucking joke, right?” he asked. Sanjay kept quiet. Jayden’s face was unreadable. Corey shook his head again. “Is he a complete tool or what? Why would we strike a deal with him and his fuck-up of a brother? And don’t even get me started on Troy, that stuck-up little dipshit.”

  Sanjay did not know how to respond.

  “So nobody else gets hurt,” Jayden answered, saving him the need to speak. Corey turned to look at his brother, surprised.

  “Don’t tell me you agree with him,” he said, voice low. “You can’t –”

  “It’s worth hearing him out,” Jayden cut him off. As with the Banks brothers, Sanjay knew it was clear that one brother was in charge. Jayden turned to Sanjay again, face serious. “But I’ll discuss it directly with Tyrese. Tonight.”

  Sanjay wondered if Jayden suspected that he had plans of his own, if his intuition had made him suspicious of his true motives.

  “I can –”

  “You can tell him I’ll see him tonight,” Jayden interrupted him. “Face to face. Just me and him. We don’t need a messenger. I’ll hear him out.”

  Sanjay nodded, but felt his own chances slipping away. If Tyrese and Jayden met alone, how could he influence any of the outcome.

  “He said that –”

  “Whatever he said, he can say it to me directly,” Jayden said. “That’s how I do business. If he doesn’t want to meet me, he can forget any talk of getting a truce.”

  Sanjay nodded, understanding that he could not change Jayden’s mind on this point.

  “Sure, Jayden, I can do that,” he said, knowing he was beaten.

  Jayden smiled. That was that, Sanjay thought. Maybe he would have to rethink.

  “Am I fucking hallucinating?” Corey asked, looking incredulously from one to the other, his fists clenched on the kitchen table. “You can’t seriously think –”

  He trailed off at the look on his brother’s face. Corey had probably realised it was futile to try and influence Jayden once his mind had been made up, just as he had, Sanjay thought.

  “Fuck,” Corey shouted, slamming his fist down on the table. His chair legs scraped loudly across the tiled floor as he stood. He glared at Sanjay, then at his brother. “This is a fucking joke.”

  He stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him.

  “Sorry about that,” Jayden said, shrugging. “Recent events have shaken him up a bit, clouded his judgement. He’s still grieving.”

  Sanjay nodded.

  “You’ll tell Tyrese to meet me tonight,” Jayden said. It was a command, not a question.

  “Of course.”

  He shook Jayden’s hand and was shown out of the house, the metal door closed shut behind him with a creak. He could not be sure if Jayden had suspected his own intentions, but either way it made no difference. His chance at influencing the negotiations was shot to shit now he would not even be involved. He could try and talk to Tyrese, warn him about the danger again, but he knew it would not work.

  Taking off down the road, he caught sight of Corey coming in the opposite direction. He had his hood up and a cigarette dangling from his lips, and he still looked pissed off.

  He slowed as Sanjay approached.

  “You done playing messenger for Tyrese Banks now?” Corey asked, voice snide. “Running back to your boss like a good little boy?”

  Sanjay had a sudden, striking idea.

  “I’d watch your back if I was you,” he said, voice low. Corey stopped, eyes narrowing.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.
>
  Sanjay stopped too, glancing around theatrically as if to emphasize the importance of what he was about to say. Corey leant closer, and Sanjay smiled inwardly. He had him.

  “Tyrese might want a deal with your brother,” Sanjay said, almost whispering. “But Trent sure as hell doesn’t. Tyrese hasn’t even told him about the deal yet. And like you said, he’s a fucking psychopath, right? You think he’s not going to come after you? Truce or no truce, Trent wants you and your brother dead.”

  Corey looked at him, and Sanjay feared for a second that his plan would backfire, that he would question why Sanjay had told him this when he was supposed to work for the Banks brothers, but then Corey nodded, as if in agreement.

  “I knew this was a fucking mistake,” Corey said. “Cheers man, I owe you. When the Banks brothers are history, you come to me. I’ll see you right, ok?”

  “Sure man,” Sanjay said.

  Corey walked on, shaking his head, and Sanjay knew he had played his hand perfectly. There was no influencing what Jayden and Tyrese negotiated or what they agreed to, but if Corey and Trent went up against each other, both brothers would be obliged to defend their own.

  Perhaps this plan was even better than his original one, Sanjay thought, a spring in his step as he carried on down the street heading home.

  * * *

  Corey stopped outside his house and turned to watch Sanjay’s retreating back turn around a corner and disappear from sight. His words had surprised him. He had known that any kind of deal with the Banks brothers was a mistake, but Sanjay had just confirmed it.

  Everyone knew that Jayden ran the show, knew he was the smartest of the brothers, but Corey thought that sometimes his brother was too soft, too forgiving. He could do nothing to stop his brother from meeting Tyrese Banks, but he could sure as hell make sure that the truce they were threatening never came to fruition.

  Turning from the house, he pulled out his phone and called Goldie.

  It still angered him, the fact that Goldie had manipulated Jessie, had taken advantage of her desperation to get his end away with her, but his revenge would have to wait.

  “Wassup?” Goldie groaned down the line. Probably hungover.

  “I want Trent Banks dead first,” Corey said, voice quiet, fearing somebody in the house would hear. “I want it done soon. You understand me?”

  “Yeah, boss, loud and fucking clear,” Goldie confirmed.

  Then he hung up.

  As smart as his brother was, Corey knew that it was up to him to sort this mess out. The Banks brothers did not deserve a truce, they deserved nothing. When Tyrese and Trent were dead, Jayden would realise it was for the best, Corey knew. It was better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission, as the old saying went.

  Sliding his phone back into the pocket of his jeans, Corey went back inside.

  * * *

  Darkness fell across the estate and lights flickered on in the windows of the blocks of flats around them, and Brandy pulled the curtains of her bedroom window shut and turned to Adrianna as her friend reached for a tube of lipstick.

  “Whose party did you say this is?” Brandy asked, knowing full well that her friend had not told her yet.

  “I told you already,” Adrianna lied. “It’s just a friend of a friend.”

  Brandy narrowed her eyes. She did not know why, but something about her tone made her uncomfortable. It was not like Adrianna to be so cryptic, and it put Brandy’s back up.

  “Jesus, it’s a party,” Adrianna chastised her, turning to face the mirror to apply a hot pink lipstick. “Alcohol, weed, probably some coke, music, hot guys. When have you ever cared whose party it was?”

  Brandy could hardly argue with that. Still, something did not feel right. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, she thought. Since Troy had been released from prison she had been on edge. Not only did she remember all to well the beating handed to her by his brothers, but she knew that he must hate her for handing Detective Patterson the knife he had used to kill Shaniqua Curtis. He had trusted her with it, and she had betrayed him. Their relationship had always had its ups and downs, but between them they had shattered it when Troy had tried to rape Aurora and she had turned him into the police in revenge.

  Troy’s reprisals were not all she had to fear. She could handle a beating, could cope with threats or angry looks from him across the estate.

  What she could not allow was for him to become a part of her life, a fixture in her family, if he ever discovered that Frazer was his son.

  Troy’s mother and Aurora were the only ones who knew, as far as she was aware, but how long would it be before one of them told him? Keskia could tell her son out of love, and Aurora could tell him out of spite. Either way, once Troy knew the truth he would never be out of her life, bound to her through their son.

  The thought made her shudder.

  “Lighten up,” Adrianna remarked, catching the look on her face through the reflection of the mirror. Brandy scowled at her and reached for her vodka and coke, downing half the glass in one gulp. She winced at the taste, but Adrianna nodded approvingly. “That’s better. Drink up, bitch.”

  “How far do we have to go?” Brandy asked, her feet already aching in heels.

  “It’s on the estate,” Adrianna reassured her. Her phone beeped and she reached for it. She rolled her eyes and snatched up her own drink, discarding the lipstick on the bed. “I can’t believe Trent sometimes,” she said, in mock-outrage, though Brandy could tell she loved whatever he had sent to her. She raised an eyebrow for Adrianna to explain. “Oh, he’s just being his usual self,” she said cloyingly. “Hopes that I’m on my way and all that -”

  She stopped at once, her mouth still open. Brandy’s back straightened up.

  “What do you mean?” she demanded. “We’re going to see Trent? Are you for real?”

  Adrianna squared her shoulders defiantly.

  “I was going to tell you, but I knew you’d freak out,” she said. “Listen, he asked for you to be there.”

  “Trent did?” Brandy hissed. “The guy who beat me not all that long ago?”

  She kissed her teeth, anger washing over her.

  “No, not Trent,” Adrianna said slowly. Brandy glared at her. “It was Troy. It’s his party.”

  Brandy snorted with laughter and shook her head.

  “Are you fucking delusional?” she said, her voice rising. “You were going to trick me into turning up at Troy’s party? You think I wouldn’t realise we were walking into his flat or something? You think if you gave me enough vodka then I’d forget everything that happened?”

  Her anger was pulsating now.

  “I don’t care if Troy asked for me, he doesn’t have the right to ask for shit as far as I’m concerned,” she shouted. Adrianna seemed to withdraw, finally aware she had made a big mistake. Brandy went on. “You tell him that he doesn’t get to ask me to do anything, okay? He can stay the hell away from me and I’ll stay the hell away from him and that’s how things will be, okay?”

  Adrianna nodded, biting her lip.

  “Now get the fuck out.”

  Adrianna hesitated, but Brandy hurled the plastic cup at her. It crumped on the wall and vodka and coke splashed everywhere. Adrianna let out a shriek, snatched up her purse and her bottle of peach schnapps and fled. The front door slammed shut a moment later.

  Alone in her room, Brandy paced the foot of her bed, breathing hard, trying to shake out the anger that roared inside of her. She could not face Troy, not yet, probably not ever. She did not know why he had asked for her, whether it was some part of his revenge or what.

  All she knew was that she could not let him become a part of her life again, could never let him meet Frazer or discover the truth about their son.

  She sank down onto her bed, sober now, wondering how long she could put off coming face to face with him. Knowing Troy as she did, she thought, it would not be for long.

  * * *

  Bass music vibrated through the f
loor and walls, but Troy did not fear that any of the neighbours would complain or call the police. Everyone around here knew better than to interfere with a party at the Banks’ flat.

  He was several cans into his party, and he had done more than a few lines of coke, but the buzz of excitement he had expected to feel had not yet materialized. There were plenty of people crowded into the flat, dancing and laughing, in varying degrees of wasted, but something did not feel right.

  He could not help but compare it to the parties he had once enjoyed here, before he had been locked up. All his friends had been here. Clint, his best mate, on one side, and Brandy, his girlfriend, on the other. Both loyal to the end, or so he had thought back then. He felt their absence now and he could not shake them from his mind, though he was not lacking support or appreciation. Tamar and Amal had both come, as he had fully expected, clapping him on the back and welcoming him home, before cracking on with the beers. Girls, too, did not seem to care that he had been inside or what he had been accused of. They were practically fighting each other for the chance to dance with him or sit in his lap, gyrating up against him, letting him snort some coke off the back of their hands.

  It was fun, Troy reminded himself. This was his life, the one he had missed so much whilst he had been behind bars. He tried not to focus on what was missing, but on what he had here. Clint and Brandy had shown themselves to be traitors and he was better off without them.

  He watched Adrianna purr on Trent’s lap, her hand on the waistband of his jeans, and felt a second’s fury that the stupid blonde had not managed to get Brandy here, even for a minute. He turned from them, breathing slowly, snatching a can out of someone’s hand and downing it. He needed to have fun, not get angry over things he could not change.

  Tamar and Amal were stood together in the corner of the room and he staggered over to join them. They looked up as he approached, their expressions unreadable.

  What was with that? Troy thought. Was he just being oversensitive? Or was something up with these two?

  He pushed the thoughts away as he threw an arm around them.

  * * *