Clint choked, struggling against him, his fingers clawing at Troy’s hands. Troy’s face was screwed up with anger and hatred as he squeezed harder.
* * *
Adrianna had spent over an hour getting ready for the surprise that Trent had promised her. His texts were teasing but he had given nothing away. She was excited, pleased that last night and Fernanda’s angry words had been forgotten. She had dreamt of enjoying moments like these since she had first met Trent and now here she was, the object of his total affection. She wondered how much effort and money he had put into planning this surprise.
She crossed the estate, her heels echoing off the walls of the courtyard. She did not hesitate as she entered the stairwell, although when Trent had first told her that she should meet him at an abandoned flat on the top floor of one of the tower blocks, she had been doubtful. Her doubt had quickly turned to curiosity and then to excitement, her mind racing over the exact nature of Trent’s surprise.
Perhaps he had bought her a flat, she thought. No, it was too soon, she reasoned, urging herself to keep her fantasies in check. She climbed the stairs, hoping that his surprise would live up to her expectations. She reminded herself that it was the thought that counted, that whatever he had planned meant something special.
The top floor of this block was quiet, the air of neglect hitting her as she reached the top of the stairs. Some of the flats were occupied but it was hard to tell which ones, all of them looking as neglected as each other.
She paused outside the flat in which her surprise awaited her.
The windows of the flat were boarded up with cardboard from the inside and the glass was cracked. The paint on the door was cracked and the handle was loose.
Tentatively she went inside.
The kitchen was dirty and unkempt. Every surface of the room was caked in dust or dirt, and the air carried the smell of neglect and decay. She held her breath as she walked into the next room, the lounge.
It was darker in here, but she could still see the broken sofa and piles of junk. Trent stood at the far side of the room. He was not smiling.
“Trent, what is this place?” she asked, unable to help herself. If this was his idea of romance, she had to tell him she did not find it acceptable. “I thought we were having a romantic evening, and this flat is -”
“Who said anything about a romantic evening?” Trent asked.
Adrianna faltered, noticing the harsh edge to his voice.
“But the surprise -” she began, trailing off as Trent laughed.
“Yeah, don’t worry,” Trent said. “You’ll get your surprise.”
“Trent, I don’t understand,” Adrianna said, feeling nervous for the first time. She sensed movement in one of the other rooms. A few hooded figures appeared, seeming to multiply in the shadows. Her way out was blocked. The hooded figures numbered about ten, and the first lickings of fear crept over her now. “Trent?”
“I’m going to ask you some questions,” Trent said, taking a few steps across the room towards her. “I don’t want you to lie to me.”
“No, you know that I wouldn’t -” Adrianna insisted, but Trent let out an angry laugh and she fell silent.
“How long have you been fucking Sanjay Siddiqui?” Trent asked.
Adrianna gasped. She couldn’t help it. Trent stepped closer.
“Trent, you can’t seriously believe that girl from last night,” she said, hating the pleading, desperate tone in her voice. “She’s just a lying bitch, and -”
The back of Trent’s hand caught her square across the side of her face, sending her staggering hard to one side. She hit the wall and felt tears stinging her eyes at the shock and as pain flared across her cheek.
“The only lying bitch is you,” Trent snarled. He paced closer, fists clenched, ready to strike again. “Now, I’m going to ask you again. How long have you been fucking Sanjay?”
Adrianna looked at the anger on his face, the fury in his eyes, and knew that the game was up.
* * *
Clint clawed at the back of Troy’s hands, gasping for air. He drew his knee up and felt it connect with Troy somewhere. Troy grimaced, wincing at the blow. It was enough, and Troy’s clasp loosened. Clint sucked in air, his head aching and his lungs burning. He pushed Troy away, but Troy had recovered quickly and aimed a punch, which connected with Clint’s shoulder.
They were both sweating and breathing hard. Clint felt dizzy, and took a step towards the door, leaning on the counter, but Troy hit him again. Clint’s clenched his fists, and he brought his arms up defensively.
Troy was stronger, spurred on by his anger, and he slammed into him again, fists raining down on him and pushed him backwards. Clint lost his footing, falling to the floor. Pain jolted him as his knees connected with the tiled floor and he winced, though he had no time to recover before Troy’s foot kicked him in the back, sending him sprawling to the floor.
Clint banged his chin on the floor, his head pounding with pain, eyes losing focus for a second. Troy was on him then, punching and scratching him, and Clint knew that he could not let him win, could not die at Troy’s hands on the kitchen floor.
He summoned all his strength and pushed off from the floor to his knees. He grabbed one of Troy’s arms and pushed him backwards. Surprised, Troy took a step back, hitting a kitchen chair. He swore, kicking out at it angrily, and there was a screech as the legs slid along the floor and the chair toppled to the floor with a crash.
Clint reached for the kitchen counter and heaved himself to his feet, his body aching and his head crying out in pain. He felt hot liquid on his face and wondered if he was bleeding. He must be, he realised, seeing blood on his hands as they gripped the counter.
“Stop, Troy, that’s enough,” he managed, turning as Troy readied himself to attack.
Troy laughed, shaking his head.
“I’m just getting started,” he hissed.
Clint’s hand fumbled along the counter behind him, searching for anything he could use to defend himself. His hands clasped a chopping board, still sticky under his fingertips. Then something sharp. His hands closed around the handle of the knife, but Troy lunged.
Clint lost his grip on the knife but saw his opportunity. He hit Troy in the stomach with his free hand, and Troy gasped for air, doubling over. Clint did not look at him as he staggered for the door.
His hands were on the door handle and he heaved the door open. Freedom, safety, was so close. He took a step forward and froze, a gasp escaping from between his lips.
Pain swept over him as the blade sank into his side and slid out as easily as it had pierced through his t-shirt and flesh. A rush of warmth drenched his skin and the top of his jeans as blood gushed from the wound.
Clint half-turned, his eyes widening as he looked in surprise at Troy. Troy held the knife, dark with blood, dripping scarlet droplets onto floor. He did not look shocked or horrified at what he had done.
“I told you I’d teach you a fucking lesson,” Troy said, his voice almost a growl. “You never should have betrayed me, Clint.”
He stepped forward and the knife sank into Clint’s stomach. A moan of pain and shock tore from Clint and he doubled over. Troy clasped his shoulder with his other hand and leant closer, the knife tearing further inside of him.
Then Troy pulled the knife out. Clint felt the blood pulsing from the stab wounds, his t-shirt hot and sticky against his skin, and then it was dripping from the material. He put his hands to his stomach, felt the warmth, the thickness of the blood in his hands.
He almost fell through the front door, his body heavy, only spurred on by the pain that coursed through him, the knowledge that these were his final moments, that death was just seconds away from him.
He wanted to scream for help, to bang on a neighbour’s door, but he leant heavily against the low wall, the courtyard below empty. He opened his mouth but no sound came out, just a dribble of blood, tasting foul and disgustingly warm in his mouth.
H
e glanced over his shoulder, but Troy had not followed him out of the flat. There was no need, he realised. Clint was as good as dead already.
He made it to the stairwell and took two steps, then his knees gave way and he tumbled down the rest of the flight of stairs, hitting the concrete hard, though his body was going numb, his mind going blank, his fight for survival, the desperation to life fast draining from him.
It took every ounce of strength to get back to his feet, his body shaking with the effort, with exhaustion. He went down each step slowly, with each passing minute knowing that he was closer to death. He could feel life escaping from his wounds, from his lips, his eyelids getting heavy and his mind vacating itself as he finally reached the bottom of the stairwell and pushing out into the empty courtyard.
He staggered, his balance failing him now that he could not hold onto the wall. He took a few steps to the alleyway, urging himself to keep going, but he stumbled.
On the floor, he wondered if this was how Shaniqua had felt before she died. The concrete was strangely warm beneath him. The walls of the alleyway seemed to close in on him, entombing him here. This would be the last thing he ever saw, he realised, his eyes wet with tears. His eyelids fluttered, heavy, oh so heavy. He opened his mouth, his last hope to call for help, but a trickle of blood was all that came out, thicker now than before.
He looked down at himself, his t-shirt drenched in blood, his jeans darkening with it. This would be where they found him, he realised, though exhaustion dulled any fear he might have had. He thought of Aurora and Angel, their faces appearing in his vision, calling out to him, blowing kisses to him. A smile came to his lips, red with blood.
His eyes closed. He tore them open, the image of Angel and Aurora fading, but his eyelids were heavy. He could not stay awake, could fight the darkness no longer.
With a gentle shiver, his eyelids shut, and the darkness flooded in.
* * *
Trent saw the realisation dawn in Adrianna’s eyes and he felt himself smiling.
“Trent, I can explain,” she pleaded, one hand rubbing her face where he had struck her, and the other trembling. She was almost crying already, and he had barely started. Perhaps he had overestimated her. She sniffed loudly. “It was just a stupid mistake, and he didn’t mean anything to me. I love you, Trent, and I’m sorry, I -”
Trent sniggered.
He could hardly stand to listen to the snivelling bitch anymore. In a swift movement, he slapped her hard again. He heard a painful thud as her head hit the wall. She let out a yelp and a gasp of pain. She was crying now, her make-up beginning to run now. A trickle of blood oozed from a cut on her forehead.
“That’s not what I asked,” Trent said slowly.
He sensed the tension in the room now. His youngest recruits for the gang hovered in the shadows of the room, blocking the exits as he had requested of them, and he sensed their bloodlust and their eagerness to find out what awaited them and this blonde bitch that they all now knew had disrespected him.
“It’s not long, I promise,” Adrianna cried. “A few weeks, if that. And I stopped as soon as you asked me to be your girlfriend.”
“Is that supposed to impress me?” Trent spat.
He clenched his fist and hit her hard in the face. She cried out, louder this time, and flew backwards onto the floor. Her nose was bleeding now, her hair in disarray, and she was shaking from fear now as she lay on the floor. She looked up at him, clearly regretting her betrayal now.
“Were you spying on me?” Trent asked, looking down at her. “You trying to pass him info about me?”
Adrianna shook her head.
“No, never, I swear.”
Trent did not know whether to believe her. He kicked her hard in the side and he heard the air burst out of her lungs as she doubled over in pain, gasping for breath.
“What did you talk to him about?” he demanded, kicking her again.
Adrianna mumbled something unintelligible as she lay on the floor, breathing hard, sobbing.
Trent sighed. He had thought this girl was tough, but he had been wrong. She was pathetic, and he could hardly believe he had fucked her, let alone considered her his girlfriend.
His patience quickly evaporated, and he grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her to her feet. She shrieked as her hands clawed at his, trying to break his grip. He pushed her hard against the wall and put his hand around her throat. Her eyes widened with terror.
“Start talking,” Trent warned her, “Or I swear I’ll snap your neck.”
She faltered.
“I don’t know anything, Trent, please,” Adrianna insisted.
“Really? You let him fuck you, you must know something.”
Adrianna cried, and he shook her roughly as if she were a rag doll. He squeezed his hand tighter on her throat and her eyes bulged.
“I can keep this up for as long as I want,” Trent said.
“Trent, please -”
“Come on, give me something useful,” Trent said, “If you start opening your mouth as much you’ve been opening your legs, I might not kill you.”
“He saw Jayden Healy a few times,” Adrianna gasped. Trent loosened his grip on her, and she gasped for air.
“Why?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” Adrianna insisted. “I just saw he would get calls from him, I heard him on the phone arranging to meet him. I don’t know more than that.”
Trent nodded. He believed her. He knew Sanjay was not stupid enough to trust this whore with any information.
“Well, if that’s all you can tell me,” Trent said, feeling excited now, “then I guess I don’t have any use for you.”
Adrianna struggled against him.
“Please -”
“It’s time for your surprise,” Trent said, smiling at her. He leaned close to her, so his lips were inches from her face. “It’s to show how much I care about you now, you filthy, cheating bitch.”
He let go of her and she slid down the wall to the floor, the fight seemingly gone.
Turning to his recruits in the shadows, he gestured towards Adrianna.
“Right guys, you all know why you’re here,” Trent addressed them. “Your initiation. You’ve all proven yourselves worthy; so, this is your final test, and your prize.”
Adrianna murmured something from the floor and he kicked her, silencing her. The excitement from the gathered boys seemed to peak, and they drew closer to him now he had included them for the first time.
“This bitch here betrayed me and all of us,” Trent said, gesturing to Adrianna, who was eyeing the hooded figures with a renewed fear now. Trent smiled. “Seeing as she likes being fucked so much, she’s all yours. I want all of you lads to have a go on her. Prove your loyalty to me and teach this skank a lesson.”
There was silence in the room as the reality of what he had said sunk in. Adrianna was shaking her head, sliding across the floor away from him. Trent reached her in two strides and dragged her back to the centre of the room. She fought him, but he easily overpowered her, hitting her a few times to subdue her.
“Come on boys, who wants to go first?” Trent asked, eyeing his recruits, hoping he was not going to be disappointed with them.
One of the guys stepped hesitantly forward. He was chewing gum and his hands were stuck deep in the pockets of his tracksuit bottoms, his hood hiding most of his face.
“Good lad,” Trent said, clapping the boy on the back. He smiled appreciatively back at the praise.
Adrianna let out a scream that was quickly muffled by a rough hand slapped over her mouth.
* * *
Kojo watched the scene unfolding before him with mounting disgust.
Trent watched from the sidelines, smoking and occasionally leaning over Adrianna and cursing her. He really hated this girl, Kojo thought, hoping that he never got on the wrong side of the Banks brothers if this was the punishment that would await him.
Kojo wanted to nudge Kent, to whisper to his fri
end that this was a mistake and that they should slip away before anyone noticed, but to his surprise Kent was eyeing the scene with interest. He joined the others with the back-clapping and laughing when Adrianna struggled.
There was nothing Kojo could do as Kent stepped forward to take his turn.
He looked away, unable to watch any more of her suffering, especially when his best mate was one of those involved in causing it. As the other lads stepped closer, emboldened by each other, Kojo took a few steps back, sinking into the shadows, unable to participate in the gang-rape of this girl but unable to leave the room himself.
* * *
After what felt like hours, it was finally over.
Adrianna could barely move. Every muscle in her body ached and her skin was bruised and burnt from angry hands, punches and the rough, dirty carpet beneath her. She winced at the pain radiating through her.
Trent had dismissed them and now it was just the two of them left alone in the room. He was smoking a cigarette, pacing in a circle around her, though she was too numb to watch him. She could barely muster any energy, any fear, after what had happened to her.
“I hope you’ve learnt your lesson,” Trent said. “Never betray me.”
Adrianna made no effort to speak or acknowledge that she had heard him.
“Not so full of yourself now are you?” Trent laughed.
He crushed the cigarette on the carpet a few feet away from her and she smelt the acrid smell of the singed carpet fibres.
She heard him undo the zipper of his jeans and clenched involuntarily at the thought of him inside her. She closed her eyes, waiting for his hands on her, but they did not come. She heard him laughing and then she felt hot liquid splashing down on her, on her face, in her hair, sliding between her breasts and over her body, soaking into her clothes.
The smell of Trent’s urine made her gag and she kept her eyes and mouth tightly closed. When he was finished, Trent crouched down beside her.
The Goldsworth Series Box Set Page 125