She left the estate, setting off across the playing fields, feeling disheartened that it was not Kojo, but still unable to regret being with him. Her cheeks flushed as she thought about being in his bed with him, and she realised that even though she was not his first, she did not regret being with him.
* * *
Sanjay dropped Tyrese’s phone on the kitchen table. Naz and Amal stared at it, as if it were a dangerous weapon that could explode at any second.
“Step one,” Sanjay grinned. “Complete.”
“How did you get his phone?” Amal asked.
“Never you mind,” Sanjay replied. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “The less you know about all of this, bro, the better. At least for now.”
Amal looked put out but shrugged it off. Sanjay wanted to protect his brother from this, at least until everything had gone according to plan.
“What about me?” Naz asked, annoyed.
“Come on, Naz, you’re the star of the show,” Sanjay smiled. Naz frowned but said nothing. Sanjay knew his cousin did not appreciate his role in the plan, but he also knew that Naz did not dare argue about it. He had no choice. Naz would either do what had been asked of him, or he would find out how ruthless Sanjay could be.
“What do we need his phone for?” Naz asked, his curiosity outweighing his apprehension. “We’re setting him up?”
“Bang on,” Sanjay nodded. At least Naz wasn’t totally off the ball, he thought. He leant forward, elbows on the table. “We’re going to arrange a meeting between Tyrese and Jayden. Jayden thinks that Tyrese is out the game, and Tyrese is one of his old mates, whatever might have happened since. He’ll turn up. My guess is he’ll want to make sure Tyrese isn’t having second thoughts about walking away.”
“Like a trap?” Amal asked. “Jayden thinks he’s meeting Tyrese, but -”
“Me and Naz will be there instead,” Sanjay said. “Then Naz blasts Jayden away, and when the police and Corey come sniffing around, they’ll see that Jayden went to meet Tyrese. They won’t ask any questions. Tyrese will be the only one in the frame for it.”
“What if he has an alibi?” Naz asked. “Or he realises his phone is missing?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” Sanjay reassured them, tapping his nose. He did not want to tell them about Brandy, at least not yet. He hoped she held up her end of the bargain, but he was sure she would. She had no loyalty to Tyrese, and besides she had no idea what was going on except that she had given him the phone and that she had to get Tyrese drunk and keep him distracted until he told her otherwise. She was getting paid, and Tyrese was getting the drinks in for her, so she couldn’t complain.
“Sounds like you’ve got it all covered,” Amal said, smiling now, looking more comfortable with the plan now that it was underway.
Naz nodded, though he looked less excited.
Sanjay turned to Amal.
“You should go to Shontelle’s,” he told his brother. “Stay out of the way whilst things are going down.”
Amal looked put out but nodded. Sanjay was doing it for his own good. Naz looked like he wanted to protest, but he kept quiet.
Sanjay picked up the phone and scrolled through it, finding Jayden’s number. He wrote a text and sent it. He held his breathe but it was only a few seconds before Jayden replied. Maybe the oldest Healy brother was more eager to make peace than he had thought, Sanjay realised, smiling up at Naz and Amal, who were waiting anxiously.
“We’ve got a date with Jayden at the playground this evening,” Sanjay grinned.
* * *
Brandy knocked back her drink, sat at the bar, her hips twisting in time to the music. She was beginning to feel the vodka in her system and she tapped her glass, nodding at the barman. He obliged, pouring her another. Tyrese lifted his empty pint glass and the barman poured him another too.
They had been drinking all afternoon, and Brandy was surprised that Tyrese was not already slumped in a corner, the number of pints he had finished. Then again, she reasoned, she had seen him at parties drinking all night, always in control, so she should have expected as much. She was pleased that at least she seemed to be matching him drink for drink.
She slid off the barstool and went outside for a cigarette, only half-surprised that it was already beginning to get dark. She wondered if Tyrese knew what time it was. He had not noticed his phone had disappeared, and she hoped he would not. She did not want him throwing his weight around, causing a scene.
The pub door swung open behind her and Tyrese joined her on the pavement, shaking a cigarette out of his packet and lighting it.
“It’s later than I thought,” he murmured.
“The night’s still young,” Brandy smiled. Tyrese let out a laugh and coughed, sending a cloud of smoke up into the sky.
“I don’t remember you being this laid back when you were with Troy,” Tyrese said, clearing his throat and taking another drag. “You were always on at him, always so up-tight. I thought you were a stuck-up cow, to be honest.”
Brandy felt a flash of anger, but she let it slide and forced a laugh.
“Well I was dating Troy,” she joked. They both laughed.
“He’s still my brother,” Tyrese said, and Brandy could not be sure if he was giving her a warning or not. She bristled. This was the Tyrese she remembered. His misplaced sense of loyalty. He could do whatever he wanted, but nobody else could. She dropped her cigarette and crushed it beneath her heel.
Tyrese did the same and followed her back inside. Brandy downed the rest of her drink and picked up the next. Tyrese raised an eyebrow.
“You can drink,” he smirked. “You always drink this much? Or only when someone else is paying?”
Brandy tried to force a smile, but she knew it came across as a grimace.
“Lighten up, I’m only joking,” Tyrese groaned, sensing her attitude. “I mean, come on, can’t a guy buy the mother of his nephew a few drinks?”
Brandy froze, glass halfway to her lips. Tyrese laughed at the look on her face.
“Bet you thought I didn’t know,” Tyrese said, amused. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told Troy. And I won’t. Lips sealed and all that shit.”
Brandy kept quiet, unsure what to say.
“Come on, cheer up,” Tyrese said, nudging her arm. He was smiling, and Brandy wondered if he was more drunk than she had thought. “That’s always been your problem, Brandy. You’re too uptight.”
Brandy frowned. She gulped her drink, wincing at the vodka. The barman collected the glass and poured her another.
“You know what your problem is?” she asked, rounding on Tyrese. He shrugged. “You think your such a big man. Even first time I met you, I could tell you thought the sun shone out your arse-hole.”
“So what?” Tyrese laughed.
“You’re delusional,” Brandy sniggered. “You’re nothing special. You and your brothers were just two-bit thugs who struck it lucky. You think you’re such a big deal, but the truth is you’re a washed-up nobody whose luck has finally run out.”
Tyrese was no longer smiling. His grip was tight on his pint glass, and the amusement had gone from his eyes. Brandy wondered if she had pushed him too far.
“You know what you are then Brandy?” Tyrese asked, draining his drink and putting the glass down on the bar. “From the moment I met you I knew you were going to crush my little brother. You used everything you had to screw him up, didn’t you? You wanted him to be the big-I-am. You would have done anything to turn him into me.”
Brandy snorted, snatching the drink from the bartender and downing the vodka straight before he could add mix. She coughed at the taste, smacking her lips together.
“Because you’re such a catch,” Brandy snapped. She stood, the bar stool scraping against the floor. “Why did Mercy leave you again?”
She enjoyed the anger flash across his face. She slid past him and retreated to the toilets, not looking back. She knew she should stop pressing him. He might be a disgrace
, but he could still be dangerous.
She leant against the sink, taking a few deep breaths. She had to behave. The door behind her swung open and Tyrese appeared in the doorway. On his feet, she was reminded how tall he was, that he was still strong. He was not smiling as he closed the door behind him, blocking her escape.
Turning to face him, Brandy knew she should apologize, but her lips curled back, and she was unable to do it. Tyrese took a step forward, shoulders squared. Brandy felt herself tense.
“I meant what I said,” Tyrese said, stepping closer. “You screwed-up Troy, wanting him to be harder, meaner. You wanted him to be me.”
Brandy stood tall, refusing to bow down to him.
Tyrese smiled and lifted his hand. Brandy closed her eyes and felt Tyrese’s hands on her, but her eyes flew open. Tyrese did not hit her. He pushed her up against the sink, one hand on her waist and the other on her neck.
“If you wanted me, you could have tried,” Tyrese said, his lips close to hers, and she smelt the beer on his breath. He was hard as he pressed against her. “You might be a bitch, Brandy, but that’s never put me off before.”
Brandy looked at his face, holding his gaze. Then he leant in and his mouth was on hers and she responded, her mouth opening for him. He half-lifted her with one arm and pushed her against the bathroom wall. She slid her arms around his neck, as he kissed her hungrily. She felt his strength as her hand slid down his chest.
Tyrese broke away and looked at her. Brandy was as surprised as he was by their sudden hunger for each other. Tyrese smiled at her look, and kissed her again, his hands sliding around her waist as they manoeuvred into a cubicle, the lock clicking shut behind them.
* * *
“You’ve finally decided to come out your room and show your face,” Shontelle remarked, glaring at her sister as she came into the kitchen.
Scarlett ignored her sister, not wanting another argument. She had been so happy all afternoon after seeing Kojo, and she did not want her sister to ruin her good mood. She had only left her room because she thought Shontelle had gone out with Amal. She heard music from her sister’s room and guessed Amal was in there.
“Ignoring me?” Shontelle pressed, and Scarlett felt her eyes piercing her back as she opened the fridge and pulled out some leftover pizza. “I’m still waiting for an apology after your outburst this morning,” Shontelle said.
Scarlett turned, scowling her sister.
“You’ll have a long wait then,” she said.
“Don’t sass me, Scarlett. I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, but you were well out of line today,” Shontelle snapped. Scarlett rolled her eyes, taking a bite of pizza and heading for the kitchen door. Shontelle stepped forward, clearly not finished with her. “Where were you earlier anyway? Oh, let me guess. You were with that boy.”
“Yeah, I was with Kojo,” Scarlett said, blushing. Shontelle’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s that look?” she demanded. “What were you doing?”
The floor in the corridor creaked, and Amal walked in. He hesitated at the looks on their faces, uncomfortable at the scene.
“Look at her,” Shontelle said to him, pointing at Scarlett. “She looks guilty about something, doesn’t she?”
“I don’t know,” Amal said, shifting uncomfortably, leaning against the counter and trying to avoid Scarlett’s face.
“Come on, what have you been up to?” Shontelle said, hand on hip.
Scarlett groaned, trying to swallow down her impatience and mounting anger.
“I’m waiting,” Shontelle said.
“You really want to know?” Scarlett snapped, losing her patience. “I was having sex with Kojo. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
She regretted her words at once as the shock registered on her sister’s face. She blushed harder, and Amal looked at the floor, as if scrutinising the linoleum beneath his feet, desperate not to be a part of this conversation.
Shontelle shook her head, lost for words for the first time. Scarlett went to leave, but Shontelle blocked her path, her shock turning to anger.
“You silly girl,” she said, almost shouting. “What are you playing at?”
Scarlett’s own temper flared again.
“I had sex, so what?” Scarlett retorted. “You’ve done it. You were shagging Naz before you moved on to his cousin.”
Shontelle’s hand flew up and slapped her hard across the face, and Scarlett winced as the sound rang out in the kitchen. Her cheek hurt from the blow, and she fought back tears, caught off guard. She took a step back and glared at her sister. Shontelle looked on the verge of tears too, shocked by her own actions. Amal hurried forward and put his arms around Shontelle, pulling her a few steps back against the counter, clearly alarmed by the situation.
“I’m sorry,” Shontelle stammered. “Scarlett, I didn’t mean to -”
Scarlett shot past her now the doorway was clear, dropping the slice of pizza on the floor, and flew down the corridor to the front door. She slammed the door shut behind her, hardly aware if Shontelle had called after her or not. She bit her lip, wiping at her eyes, her cheek still sore from the slap.
She hurried away from the flat, unaware of where she was walking, barely registering that it was dark now, only knowing she had to get away from her sister.
* * *
Troy closed his eyes as the call for lights out rang down the corridors. He lay on his bed and tried to numb himself from the aches across his body. His cellmate was quiet, oblivious to what had happened earlier. Not that he would care even if he knew, Troy thought.
The lights flickered out and the cell was plunged into darkness. Troy thought of Goldie, in the cell next door, probably laughing even now about what he had done, what Troy had allowed him to do.
As if on repeat, he played the scene over again in his mind. Troy wished that he had put up a fight, shouted, at least given Goldie a black eye or something. Instead he had done nothing, just let himself been thrown to the floor, let Goldie force himself inside him like he was some pussy. The thought made him want to be sick.
It was too late now to do anything about it, Troy knew that. He could spend all night thinking about what he could have done differently, but what was the point? He had let Goldie do it. He felt ashamed, violated. He wondered if Brandy had put up more of a fight than he had. The thought embarrassed him.
His arm stung where the blade had cut his flesh. He had done that to himself. That was how weak he was, Troy realised. He was cutting himself and letting a pathetic ponce like Goldie force himself on him. He had sunk as low as he could get, he knew that much.
Another thirty years of this. Would he even survive that long?
He could not let it continue, Troy decided. He was a Banks brother, he was not weak, he was not a pushover. He had been knocked down, but he would get back up, stronger than before.
He would put it down to shock at getting thirty years and leave it at that. Self-harming? A victim? Nah, he thought, that was not him. Not the real Troy Banks. He could not allow such disrespect to slide. He would not disrespect himself like that.
In the dark, he clenched his fists beneath the threadbare blanket.
* * *
Naz felt his hands shaking. His palms were slick with sweat, and he was worried that he would drop the gun as he soon as he had to use it. The barrel was damp in his hand, and he hoped he would be able to pull the trigger when the time came. Beside him, crouching in the bushes, Sanjay seemed calm, though Naz sensed an energy emanating from his cousin. He wished he felt so composed, so excited.
It was dark now, making Naz more nervous. What if he shot the wrong person?
His armpits were damp with sweat, and he felt his t-shirt sticking to his back beneath the hoodie. Sanjay had insisted they wore them, just in case.
The playground was empty, and the playing fields were quiet. A few drunks had staggered close by, not even noticing them hidden in the bushes. A girl in six-inch heels had tottered past t
hem, pausing only to vomit a few metres away from them, and luckily the smell had not reached them.
Footsteps sounded and Naz watched as Jayden walked briskly down the path. He cut across the grass towards the playground. Sanjay tensed beside him, and Naz felt his heart hammering in his chest. He was sure that Jayden would hear, would run or fight, and everything would go to shit.
Jayden pushed through the metal gate, and it creaked noisily before closing with a metal-on-metal bang that made Naz jump, even though he had been expecting it. Jayden checked his phone, and then shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning against the metal pole that held up the swings.
They waited in silence. Naz was waiting for Sanjay’s signal, anxious but hoping that his cousin would change his mind.
“Now,” Sanjay whispered.
Naz swallowed hard. He could not move. Sanjay glared at him.
“Now,” he repeated.
Naz forced himself to move, the gun still slick with sweat, shoved into his pocket. He stumbled from the bushes and quickly walked towards the playground, just a few metres away. His legs were shaking. No, his whole body was shaking, he realised.
Jayden looked around as Naz hopped over the metal fence, not wanting to alert him by using the gate. As Jayden turned, Naz rounded the swing set, getting a clear view of him. He pulled the gun out of his pocket, pointing it at Jayden. His hand was shaking. Jayden pulled his hands out of his pocket in surrender.
“Hold up there, mate,” Jayden said calmly. “I don’t want any trouble.”
Naz tried to aim, but his hands were shaking, his forehead dripping with sweat. A bead of sweat trickled into his eye and he blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. Jayden took a few steps forward, and Naz panicked, knowing Jayden would easily overpower him if he reached him. A few more steps forward.
Naz fired the gun. Jayden let out a loud groan but kept moving forward, quicker now. The bullet had just grazed his arm. Naz fired again and Jayden stopped, staggering backwards. He had hit him, but Naz could not tell where. Jayden was still on his feet, and he roared as he regained his balance and lunged towards him.
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