“Dragged him down with me? Oh no, Charley, that’s where you’re wrong,” Dante said, a smile twitching on his lips now. He knew her weakness, and he would press it. “Why do you think we started working for Uncle Jasper in the first place?”
“Don’t you dare try to –”
“It was his idea, you know that?” Dante pressed on, savouring the effect his words had as Charley closed her eyes for a long moment, as if trying to block out what he was saying. He continued. “As soon as he found out you were up the duff, he wanted to make you proud, because you wanted out from your mum’s flat. You wanted a nice place, new clothes, to show off to your mates. How did you think he was going to afford that?”
“I just wanted Bolton and our baby, I didn’t need the rest,” Charley insisted, her voice wavering.
“Ah, you’ve changed your tune now, haven’t you?” Dante mocked her.
“It’s not my fault,” Charley said firmly, as if trying to convince herself more than anything. Dante sniggered.
“Hit a nerve, have I?” he asked. “You came here wanting to blame me, but really you should be blaming yourself.”
“No, no, it’s not my fault,” Charley said, her voice thick with emotion, and she stopped herself. She took a deep breath, eyes closed.
Dante waited for the tears, a smile on his lips now that he had the upper hand. He relished the look on her face, crushed and defeated. Charley opened her eyes and she looked squarely at him, unnerving him. She spoke softly, but firmly.
“Maybe I should share some of the blame, yeah I’ll hold my hands up and admit that. But Bolton was just trying to be a good father, and now my son is growing up without one. And when it comes down to it, whose fault is that?”
“Let me guess, mine?” Dante rolled his eyes.
“You wouldn’t know anything about being a good father though, would you?” Charley said, shaking her head. A smile played on her lips as she leant forward, all emotion gone now. “You don’t even know that you have a daughter.”
“What?” Dante asked, caught off guard. What was she talking about?
“And you know why?” Charley asked. “Because you don’t deserve the chance to be a father. That little girl is better off without you.”
“What are you talking about?” Dante asked, his fingers twitching, pulse quickening. He stopped himself. “Hah, you’re joking, aren’t you? Trying to make a point?”
“I’m not telling you who it is,” Charley said, looking him in the eyes. Dante looked back at her, holding her gaze, and he knew she was not joking, saw the truth in her face. “If you want to know the truth, I came here because I was going to offer you a deal. Plead guilty, own up to what you did, and I’d tell you who it is, but now I’m here I can’t do it. Because she’s better off without you as a dad, better off never knowing you exist.”
“If you’re not playing games, Charley, you better start talking,” he warned her, voice low and threatening.
“I’m not playing, and I’m not telling you anything,” Charley said, her voice cold. She gripped the table, and he saw no fear in her eyes. She was not afraid of him anymore, his words couldn’t hurt her. He had the power balance, and he felt his hands shaking. “I wanted to look into your eyes and see why you killed Bolton, but now I’ve realised I don’t need to know.”
“Charley -”
“Bolton is at peace, and so am I now,” Charley said, and he sensed a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled at him, and he knew that she sensed the shift in power too. “Something you’ll never have, because even though you play the hard man, deep down you know you killed the only person who ever really cared about you. Bolton was the best thing to ever happen to you, and now you have nobody. You’ll never have anyone to love you, you’ll never have a friend, and you’ll never know your daughter. If you ever get out of here, nobody will be waiting for you. You’ll be alone, locked-up or not, and that’ll never change.”
Her words hit him hard, and he leant forwards, unable to hide his anxiety.
“Tell me -”
Charley pushed away from the table and rose, looking down at him with disdain and pity. That hit him almost as hard as her words had.
“Goodbye, Dante,” she said.
Charley turned and walked away from him. She did not look back, and then she was gone.
Dante sat at the table, watching her go, shocked not only by her words and her demeanour, but by the fact that for the first time in a long time, he felt powerless.
* * *
Scarlett felt the sun on her skin, the cotton of her sleeveless vest already sticking to her despite the slight breeze that swept across the playing fields. She was carrying her dad’s shopping bags and the plastic dug into her fingers.
She saw a group of lads hanging around in the playground, leaning against the metal railings, smoking and joking around. She recognised Kojo at once and felt a flutter of excitement which she wished she did not.
He had not returned her calls or texts, and she felt both embarrassed that he had not bothered to answer her and annoyed that she still seemed to care. She should have shut herself off from him. As he drew closer, she saw one of his mates nudge Kojo and nod in her direction. She felt herself blush and willed herself not to look over as Kojo turned to follow his mate’s look.
If he wanted nothing to do with her then that was fine, she lied to herself. She forced herself not to look over at them, but now she could hear their laughter, their jokes, as she neared. She had to pass them to get home and turning back now to walk the long way around would look even more embarrassing, she thought.
She tried to keep her head high as she neared. Kojo was watching her, and two of his mates had their hands over their mouths as if to stop from laughing. She panicked for a moment, worried she looked a state or had something stuck in her hair, but she tried to ignore them.
Kojo said nothing as she walked by and she felt herself blush harder, upset and embarrassed that he had not even acknowledged her. She quickened her steps, hurrying past the playground so they would not see the hurt on her face.
She half-hoped that he would call after her, but he did not, and she hurried around the corner, out of their sight, blinking hard to stop herself from crying. She imagined Kojo and his mates laughing at her behind her back, and she almost dropped the shopping backs as she half-jogged across the street to her block of flats.
* * *
Dante followed the officer back from the visiting room, his shoulders slumped and his eyes on his feet. He did not speak and neither did the officer. Perhaps the officer sensed that he did not want to chat, or perhaps he just didn’t give a shit. Either way, small-talk was the last thing Dante wanted right now.
His mind was racing. Charley had stood up and left, and he knew that he had lost whatever grip he’d had over her. She was no longer scared of him, she had got the peace or release or whatever she had come here looking for, and it irked him that she should be so at peace whilst he was no so restless.
Her words had hit home, and he thought about who his daughter might be, who the mother was. He’d had so many one-night stands, some he could barely even remember. The possibilities were endless, and if Charley was right, he would never know who it was, never know his daughter either. Not that he wanted a child, but it angered him that Charley knew something so huge and he did not.
His thoughts about his mystery daughter mingled with thoughts of Bolton. Perhaps what Charley had said was true. Bolton was the only true friend he had ever had. They had always looked out for each other, had shared so much together over the years. And he knew she was right. If he got out of here, nobody would be waiting at the gates for him. His cousin, Sapphire, had written him off, and she was a fat, useless twat anyway. She was no loss. Nobody would really care if he got out.
Even if he stayed inside, he had no mates here. Not real ones, not like Bolton had been. The officer opened the last gate and Dante wandered back into the communal area, hardly noticing the other i
nmates around him.
For the first time, he realised, he was beginning to regret what he had done. He tried hard to shake off the feeling. Guilt was the last thing he should be feeling, especially with his trial starting tomorrow. He shook his head, telling himself that Charley had just got inside his head, but as hard as he tried, the image of Bolton kept returning.
* * *
Outside the prison, Charley stopped to take a deep breath, savouring the sunlight and the fresh air that had been sorely lacking inside the building. She was not shaking and she did not feel upset or angry. She felt free.
The look on Dante’s face as she had said goodbye to him had been perfect, she thought, but she realised she no longer cared about him. She had finally found peace, which was what she had come here looking for, she now realised.
He did not deserve her anger, did not deserve to be in her thoughts at all. He had done his damage, for sure, but now she would not let him play on her mind, would not let him steal one more second of her thoughts.
He would return to his cell and could spend eternity there for all she cared. She would be returning home to her beautiful son and her happy home, and that was what mattered to her. That was what life was about.
A car beeped and her brother waved from the driver’s seat. He must have come here to try and stop her, or to comfort her if it had all gone horribly wrong, she realised. She felt a pang of guilt for lying to him, lying to everyone.
Asher looked at her, anxious, as she climbed in alongside him, but she smiled at him.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” she reassured him. He looked at her for a moment, then smiled when he realised she meant it.
He drove them out of the car park and as they passed through the gates, Charley watched the prison retreat in the rear-view mirror. She hoped for Zoe Taylor and her daughter’s sake that Dante never figured out who had given him a child, and she felt a moment’s remorse for what she had almost done, yet she felt relief that she had confronted him.
Whatever he did tomorrow in court, she would be ready for it.
* * *
Kojo took a deep breath before he knocked on the front door.
If Kent knew he was here he would get a right earful, so Kojo had not told his mates where he was coming. He had been unable to shake the look on Scarlett’s face earlier when he had ignored her, and his guilt had risen until he could no longer stomach it and there was only one thing for it.
He knocked again, louder this time.
The door swung open and Scarlett’s sister peered out at him.
“What do you want?” Shontelle demanded, hand on hip. Kojo realised that Scarlett must have told her sister what had happened. Perhaps she had cried on her shoulder earlier, he thought, and felt worse.
“I just need to talk to Scarlett,” Kojo said quietly, ashamed of himself under Shontelle’s angry glare. “Can I come in for just a minute?”
“No, you can’t,” Shontelle replied. “You can go f-”
“It’s okay,” Scarlett said from behind her, coming down the hallway, cutting Shontelle off. Kojo looked over her shoulder, smiling hopefully as Scarlett approached. She did not smile back, but at least she would see him, he thought.
“Scarlett, you don’t need to speak to him,” Shontelle said, turning to talk to her sister, blocking Kojo from coming in. “You can just tell him you don’t want to see him and we can slam this door right now.”
“I want to see him,” Scarlett insisted, and Kojo felt his chest flutter. Shontelle turned back to him, eyes narrowed, clearly annoyed by her sister.
“You have two minutes,” she warned him. “Then you’re out.”
She let go of the door and stormed off down the corridor to her bedroom. Scarlett came to the door and hesitated, looking down at the slippers on her feet, clearly uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry for before,” Kojo said quietly, unsure where to begin. “And for not calling or texting you. I know there isn’t any excuse, but -”
“You’re right, there is no excuse,” Scarlett said, shaking her head. “Kojo, I thought you were different from other boys around here, but you turned out to be just the same as them. Worse, even, because you pretended not to be.”
“I’m not like those other guys,” Kojo insisted, his voice quiet and pleading. His guilt was growing now, looking at the hurt on her face, the sadness in her voice. “I swear, I’m not. I’m so sorry for ignoring you, I don’t know why I acted like that. It’s just around the lads, they expect me to be different, to be like them, and I’m not.”
“It sure seemed like you were like them,” Scarlett said softly.
Kojo looked at her face, trying to show her how much he regretted it.
“I’m sorry, Scarlett,” he said, almost a whisper. “I was a coward, and I was stupid. So stupid. I really like you, I really do, and -” he fumbled, stammering, unable to voice his feelings, looking down at his feet, unable to meet her eyes.
“I really like you too, Kojo,” Scarlett said.
Kojo looked up and she smiled tentatively.
“You do?” he asked, hardly able to hope. “Even after -”
“Yes,” Scarlett nodded, her voice almost just a breath.
Kojo smiled, his pulse getting faster. Scarlett leaned forwards and kissed him gently on the lips. He kissed her back, sliding his hands around her waist. The kiss deepened, her mouth opening for his tongue, and he held her closer against him.
A noise behind her jolted them apart. Shontelle came down the corridor, looking furious.
“Time’s up,” she snapped, glaring at Kojo angrily. “Time for you to go.”
Kojo nodded, taking a step back, smiling gingerly at Scarlett, who blushed and smiled too. Shontelle looked between them and shook her head. Kojo waved goodbye to Scarlett before Shontelle closed the door firmly in his face.
* * *
Shontelle made sure her sister had retreated to her bedroom before returning to her own room, closing the door behind her. She was worried about Scarlett, and she did not like what she had seen between them. She had kissed him, just hours after the boy had given her the cold shoulder in front of his mates. That was not the Scarlett she knew, but then, her sister had never talked about boys before, had never seen a boy as far as she knew, so it was new territory for them both.
“I can’t believe the cheek of him,” she ranted, eliciting an amused chuckle from Amal, lying on the bed in his vest and boxers. “You know how badly he’s treated my sister? And she goes and gives him a goodnight kiss, right there at the front door.”
“Relax, Shon,” Amal laughed. “Why get worked up about it? It’s not going to make any difference.”
“Oh really?” Shontelle insisted. “You don’t know the bond I have with my sister.”
“If you make a big deal about it, she’s just going to want him even more just to prove that you’re not the boss of her,” Amal pointed out.
Shontelle considered his words and groaned when she realised he was probably right. He patted the duvet beside him and she sat down, snuggling up against him, pleased that she had him to confide in about things like this.
“I’m still going to keep an eye on them though,” Shontelle insisted, and Amal murmured in response, nuzzling her neck with his lips. Shontelle tried to maintain her annoyance, but Amal’s lips and hands were distracting her, her mind drifting from her sister and Kojo. “If he makes one more wrong move and I’ll be having words.”
“Good idea,” Amal muttered, his hands sliding beneath her top.
Shontelle moaned softly, all thoughts of her sister gone from her mind.
* * *
Troy had heard the ripple of whispers following his plea. He did not need to turn around to know that Patterson was smiling to herself, smug that she had got her own way. He maintained eye contact with the judge until the man looked down at the papers before him.
“In light of your guilty plea and the deal that your defence lawyer has made with the prosecution, I am constraine
d by the terms of this agreement and will forego the maximum sentences for these charges,” the judge told him. Troy could not even bring himself to nod in understanding, his body so tense as he awaited the next words.
His lawyer had explained that the plea bargain meant that he could not get a life sentence, and that his sentences would not run consecutively, which was something at least, but those words that he supposed had been meant to reassure him did nothing to stop his hands from shaking as he stood here.
The judge cleared his throat, looking from the papers and back to Troy.
“However, due to the malicious nature of these crimes, and the fact that I believe that you are likely to commit such acts again if given the opportunity, I am imposing the maximum sentence that I am allowed to do by the terms of your plea bargain,” the judge said. His voice was grave, his eyes cold as he looked at him.
Troy imagined what must be going through Patterson’s mind now. He imagined she must be jumping with joy at the judge’s words. Two peas in a pod, he thought, both had it out for him.
“Taking into account all of this, I am sentencing you to thirty years imprisonment,” the judge said.
Troy’s legs shook and he reached for the table in front of him to stop himself from falling. His lawyer put a hand to his shoulder to steady him. There were mutterings from behind him as the court reacted to the verdict, and the judge kept talking, but Troy’s mind was numb, his ears deaf to the rest of his sentencing, with only words like early parole and eligible for release, but they meant nothing to him.
Thirty years. He blinked fast and felt tears in his eyes. He did not even care that somebody might see that he was about to cry. He did not care about anything anymore.
He thought about returning to prison, to Dante, to the life he had hated so much inside. He had barely coped locked up for less than a year, and now he was to serve thirty.
The judge had stopped speaking. It was all over. His future had been determined.
Troy let the tears slide down his cheeks. He did not look back, did not want to see the smiling faces of those he had wronged, nor the look on his mother’s face, if she would be relieved or heartbroken.
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