Amal Siddiqui exchanged a look with Tamar as Troy swept them both up in an embrace. He was murmuring something, and Amal almost rolled his eyes but refrained.
He wondered what he had once found so appealing about Troy’s parties. Perhaps it had been because the Banks brothers had been something then and it had felt cool to be partying with them, or perhaps he had simply liked Troy as a friend back then. Now he could hardly believe he had enjoyed these occasions so much.
The only reason Amal had come at all was because Sanjay had told him to. Until the Banks brothers were history, they did not want to rock the boat, and that meant Amal had to keep up his friendship with Troy, at least for now.
It was not an easy task, Amal now realised, but it was necessary.
“Have you seen Clint?” Troy asked, taking him by surprise.
He was saved the need to answer when Tamar replied.
“Don’t think he’s likely to show his face here mate,” he sniggered.
Troy nodded, his eyes scrutinizing his face. He turned to Amal and did the same. Amal felt uncomfortable.
“You didn’t hang out with him whilst I was inside then?” Troy asked.
Though he was clearly trying not to, Troy sounded like a petulant child about to throw a tantrum. A dangerous tantrum, no doubt, Amal thought. He exchanged another glance with Tamar, but it went unnoticed by Troy.
“Well, did you?” Troy insisted.
“Nah mate,” Amal lied. “He went and did a runner. Nobody saw him for dust, you know.”
Tamar caught his eye, acknowledging the lie.
“Yeah, he took off quicker than Usain Bolt after you got nicked,” Tamar said.
Troy was silent for a long moment and then nodded, satisfied that they were telling the truth. Amal felt his shoulders relax a little.
“He’s back now though,” Troy said. “He testified, the sneaky little bitch.”
They fell silent, but Troy shrugged himself out of whatever dark thoughts he was having,
“Come on, let’s do some more lines,” he said, a smile on his lips now. “Then I’m going to find the hottest girl in here and -”
He rambled on, but Amal tuned him out as they went through to the bedroom, where Troy had stashed some coke on his bedside table. All Amal could think about was Shontelle and how much he wished he could be with her right now instead of stood here listening to Troy and his bullshit.
Since they had spent the night together, his feelings for her had exploded. He wanted to see her all the time, do anything to please her, and it was a surprising, but exciting, change from how he usually felt when he was with a girl. Now he had eyes only for her, and he wanted to shout that fact from the rooftops and would have done if it was not for his cousin Naz and the fact that Shontelle was his ex-girlfriend.
“Yeah, too right mate,” Amal murmured in agreement to whatever Troy had just said and watched distractedly as Troy cut some lines for each of them.
Amal was already counting down the hours until he could make his excuses and leave, so he could slide into Shontelle’s bed and wrap his arms around her.
* * *
Clint could hear music coming from somewhere in Troy’s block and knew it must be his party. He wondered briefly what would happen if he walked through the front door and squared up to him, but he did not walk in that direction, instead turning towards Aurora’s flat. He was anxious to see her, but nerves clawed at his stomach. Perhaps it would be less painful to face Troy than her, he thought.
He knocked on her front door and it opened a second later, only a few inches, the chain in place. Marlena looked out at him, visibly sighing with relief when she saw it was him.
“Expecting someone else?” Clint asked, his voice dark.
Marlena undid the chain and let him in.
She gestured through to the lounge, and Clint heard her replace the chain as she closed the front door after him. He shivered, sensing the tension from her as if it were contagious.
Aurora sat on the sofa, eyes half-closed. She looked tired, and he wondered if Angel had been sleepless at night, if leaving her to raise their daughter alone had been a terrible mistake.
“Clint,” she said, surprised. She did not sound excited to see him, but nor did she seem dismissive. She looked at him expectantly, but he could hardly find the words he wanted to speak. “What are you doing here Clint?” she asked, some tension in her voice.
“Troy,” Clint managed. “He’s back on the estate, and I just wanted to check on you, make sure that you’re okay.”
Aurora’s expression softened, but only for a moment, before her lips thinned.
“We’re fine,” she said, coolly. “Zoe already told me he was back. I’m not scared of him.”
“Aurora -”
“You left, and you can’t keep coming here to check on us,” Aurora said firmly. If her voice had been cold before, now it was arctic. “I can take care of me and Angel.”
Clint stood in the doorway, helpless. He could see from her expression that she was not in the mood to talk to him, that her anger had not thawed. Perhaps coming here had been a mistake.
“Clint, you should go,” Aurora sighed. Her voice quieter, less hostile, but still firm.
Clint nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but he did not know what he could say. He turned and left. Marlena opened the front door for him, an apologetic look on her face. She looked like she wanted to say something comforting, but she did not.
When he stepped back out into the dark, the front door closed, the chain sliding back into place. Clint stared at the door, blinking away tears, before he retreated down the stairwell.
* * *
Sanjay let himself in through the front door, only too aware that even now Tyrese and Jayden would be getting ready to meet and discuss the truce they were both so eager to initiate. Though this thought soured his mood, he could not feel like a total failure. His words to Corey would no doubt be being acted upon even now and whatever the outcome of Tyrese and Jayden’s meeting, there would be no stopping a fight if Corey did what Sanjay hoped he would do.
The house was quiet, the downstairs dimly lit at this time of night. His mother had gone to bed hours ago, and Amal was no doubt still at Troy’s party, playing the doting friend as Sanjay had asked him to.
It would not be for long, Sanjay thought, this act of servitude towards the Banks brothers, who thought they were still relevant. He could almost taste the victory, but he knew that patience was the key now.
He crept upstairs, wondering whether Fernanda would already be asleep in his bed now. Usually when she stayed here she kept herself awake for him, and he hoped tonight was no different, wanting to celebrate his small victory with her. He opened his bedroom door, the light still on inside, and found her beneath the sheets, her eyes fixed on him.
He switched off the overheard light, casting the room into an orange glow from the lamp on the floor. He undressed in silence and slid beside her, enveloping her in his arms. She was receptive as always, kissing his neck and clasping his shoulders, back arching, as he slid on top of her. Afterwards, she kissed him, tousled his hair, murmuring her pleasure in his ears.
Sanjay slid out of the bedroom to use the bathroom, and when he returned, he found Fernanda sat on the end of the bed. She was half-dressed, her eyes blazing with fury, his phone clasped in her hand.
“What’s the matter?” he asked her, eyes drawn to the phone.
“You tell me,” Fernanda said, her voice bitter. Sanjay stopped, confused. She stood up but did not come to him as she threw the phone at him. Despite his surprise, he caught it. “Some blonde slut, sending you naked photos of herself. Tell me, Sanjay, what’s the matter with you?”
Sanjay grimaced. He knew he should have deleted Adrianna’s pictures.
“Fernanda -”
“Have you fucked her?” she demanded. Sanjay shook his head, but he knew it was no use, because she sniggered. “Well from the texts you’ve been sending each other, it sounds like
you’ve been fucking her quite a lot. And don’t say you don’t like her, because the dick pics and all the other dirty things you’ve been sending her tell a different story.”
She snatched up the rest of her clothes and dressed in record time. Sanjay tried to reach for her, ensconce her in his arms, but she shrugged away from him, her fury almost palpable and he recoiled as if her skin had burnt him.
“She’s welcome to have you,” Fernanda hissed as she pulled on her shoes and snatched up her bag. She headed for the door, her look daring Sanjay to try and get in her way. “You’re not worth it, Sanjay. I waited for you for years whilst you were locked up and this is how you repay me.”
“I can explain,” Sanjay stammered. His mouth was unable to catch up with his mind, his tongue fumbling over even the simplest of words.
“Don’t bother, the texts explained everything I needed to know,” Fernanda said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.
She opened the bedroom door and he followed her out onto the landing, whispering pleas at her retreating back so that he would not wake his mother. She went down the stairs, ignoring him.
At the front door, Sanjay hoped she would stop, would allow him just a moment to talk to her, to apologize or try and make things right. She did not. She opened the door and walked out into the dark without a backwards glance, closing the door behind her.
Sanjay stared at the front door, hardly able to process what had just happened. In what felt like the blink of an eye he had gone from victorious to deflated.
* * *
Troy looked around his party and felt like an outsider, barely recognizing any of the faces that smiled back at him.
Amal had left the party early, slipping away to visit a girl he was screwing, and Tamar had taken the opportunity to leave a short while later. Troy had tried not to be disappointed with them, or at least not to show it, but he had been hurt that they had been so keen to leave what was supposed to be his big night.
He tried not to think about whether his two friends were keeping something from him, though he did not know what it might be that they could not share with him. Perhaps they had remained in touch with Clint, he thought, hoping that was not the case.
Opening another can, Troy knew he should lighten up. There were still plenty of girls here that he could get close to, and he knew that Tamar and Amal were replaceable. Plenty of guys here would love to be his mates.
A familiar face caught his eye and his eyes narrowed. Kojo Jackson, Clint’s baby brother. He was knocking back beers with his mates.
Troy clenched his fists. Kojo looked like his brother, and Troy wanted to beat him until his face was beyond recognition, picturing it was Clint’s face as he did it. He refrained, debating whether to throw him out, watching Kojo like a predator stalking a deer.
Kojo had grown up, it seemed. He was drinking now, he even took a few drags on a joint, though he spluttered when he did it. Troy smiled, a wicked plan forming in his mind.
Beating Kojo would no doubt be fun, and it would hurt Clint, but he could now imagine a way to hurt Clint even more, tear out his very soul like Clint’s betrayal had done to him.
He smiled as he sauntered over to Kojo and his mates. He draped an arm around his shoulder, and Kojo tensed at his touch. His friends seemed awestruck at his presence.
“Kojo, it’s been a long time,” Troy said, smiling at him. Kojo looked flustered, just about managing to nod at him. His mates looked impressed, which seemed to bolster Kojo a little. Troy leant closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You guys fancy doing a few lines?”
Kojo hesitated, but his mates were already nodding, and Troy did not let Kojo have time to think as he led him through the party, his mates tagging along eagerly. He closed the door behind them and set about cutting some lines for them.
Troy knew Clint well, they had been friends since childhood after all, and he knew what would strike at his heart the most. If Troy corrupted his precious little brother, turned Kojo against Clint and fashioned him into a foot soldier of his own, then Troy knew that Clint would be devastated.
Smiling to himself, Troy felt his earlier frustrations evaporate. He held out the small section of a cut-up straw to Kojo for him to snort his first line.
“You ever done this before?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
Kojo did not answer, but his face spoke for him.
Troy smiled wider.
“Don’t worry, you can trust me,” he said, as Kojo put the straw to his nose and snorted.
* * *
Tyrese walked briskly across the playing fields on the edge of the Goldsworth Estate and hesitated as neared the playground. It was for kids, and it was as unthreatening as it should be, but still his pace slowed. He was ready for any eventuality. He did not think that Jayden would hurt him in any way, at least not right now, not when he was offering a truce.
Sanjay had seemed against the idea, despite what he had tried to portray, but Tyrese was convinced that they could heal the feud peacefully. Bad blood would always run between them; some scars from the past could never be healed, and with Jessie’s death, he knew that they would never be able to work together, never be truly at peace with each other. But that was no reason that they could not call a truce and ensure that nobody else was hurt.
He had not been home all evening, and he had not told Trent and Troy what he intended to do, knowing that neither of them could be trusted to do anything right these days.
Pushing through the metal gate to the playground, Tyrese looked around for signs of a trap, but saw none. It was deserted at midnight. He wondered why Jayden had picked this spot.
Lighting a cigarette, he leant against the railings. He hoped that Jayden was amenable to the idea of a truce. It was a good sign, he reasoned, that Jayden wanted to meet him face to face.
He waited a few long minutes, finishing his cigarette and crushing underfoot, before he heard the screech of the metal gate. Jayden approached, looking at ease, no apprehension that he might have been set-up.
They were both comfortable, Tyrese thought, and that was good.
“You made it then,” Tyrese said.
Jayden stopped a few feet away, hands in his pockets. Tyrese stood, pushing away from the railings.
“I always keep my word,” Jayden responded.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Only if I give you my word,” Jayden said, his tone casual but the underlying meaning perfectly clear to Tyrese. “We’ve still got a few things to discuss before we get to that.”
Tyrese nodded.
“We both want the same thing,” he said.
“Do we?” Jayden asked.
“Peace,” Tyrese offered. He tried to keep his voice level, not to betray how much he wanted this. “No one else getting hurt. You want that, right?”
“Of course.”
“This should be simple then,” Tyrese said.
“Not quite so simple.”
“You have your turf, we have ours,” Tyrese said. He had rehearsed what he would say to Jayden, and he kept his voice reasonable, not wanting to cause a disagreement. “Like it’s always been. If you want to expand, you do it somewhere else that isn’t the Goldsworth.”
“Fair enough,” Jayden agreed.
“We have a deal?” Tyrese asked. He was surprised, had it really been that easy?
“No, not by a long shot,” Jayden shook his head.
“But we want the same thing –”
“Yeah, we do,” Jayden said. “But some things need to happen before we can agree on anything.”
“Like what?” Tyrese asked, uncertain now.
“You know why I chose this place for us to meet?” Jayden asked, gesturing around at the playground. Tyrese shook his head.
“No, I don’t,” he admitted. He looked around, wondering if he had missed something. “It’s a kid’s playground. I figured, neutral ground –”
“Troy killed one of my men right here,” Jayden said. His v
oice was tight, and Tyrese sensed he was holding back anger that he didn’t want to show. At least not yet. “Wright O’Neill. He was a good guy. Loyal, hardworking. Supported his mum. She had Alzheimer’s, you know?” Jayden paused, letting his words sink in. Tyrese felt a sinking feeling, wondering where he was heading. Jayden sighed, shaking his head, as if disappointed. “Wonder whose looking after her now, eh? Now he’s not here, thanks to your little brother.”
Tyrese knew he couldn’t let Troy do any more damage, when he was not even involved in the discussions.
“If I could change what had happened, if I could go back and stop him –”
“We both know that’s bullshit,” Jayden laughed. He stopped abruptly, serious once more. “Wright deserves some justice.”
“The charges against Troy were dropped,” Tyrese pointed out.
“We both know he did it, he killed Wright and Sasha.”
“I can’t do anything about that.”
“You sure about that?” Jayden asked. Tyrese swallowed hard.
“I don’t understand,” Tyrese said, voice slow. Hesitant.
“There’s more than one way to get justice,” Jayden said, his words chosen carefully, Tyrese thought. He knew that whatever he was about to suggest would not bode well for him. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve welcomed him back with open arms. He’s getting his feet well and truly under the table again, right? Hardly seems like justice to me.”
“That’s not my decision –”
“I want him gone,” Jayden cut across him. “He got out of prison, but that doesn’t mean anything has been forgotten. If he stays round here, it’s a slap in the face to everyone. I want him gone. That’s the justice I’m willing to settle for. For Wright and Sasha.”
Tyrese sighed. This was the reason Jayden had wanted to meet face to face. This was what everything boiled down to.
“What are you asking?” he asked.
“You need to send him away,” Jayden said.
“I can’t do that,” Tyrese argued. “He’s my brother. I could never –”
“Then you have no deal, no truce.”
“Jayden –”
“Those are my terms,” Jayden said, and it was clear he would accept nothing less. “Either Troy disappears, one way or another, or we take over the Goldsworth and you lose everything.” Jayden paused. Tyrese looked at him, wondering how they had once been such close friends, and ended up here. Impatiently, Jayden continued. “Trust me, I’m being reasonable. Most of my guys want to see him dead. I’ll settle for just out of eyesight. Is keeping him around really worth losing everything, Ty?”
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