No Second Chances, page 21
part #4 of Goldsworth Series
Despite his better judgement, he stepped forward.
“Hey, wake up,” he hissed. He nudged her with his trainer. She stirred, but her eyes remained closed. He smelt alcohol, and he realised she was wasted.
He nudged her again.
“What do you want?” she slurred, one eye opening.
“Come on, you can’t stay here,” Kojo groaned. He adjusted the bag of shopping in one hand and tossed the cigarette, helping her to her feet. She was unsteady, but she did not resist his help. She did not know who he was. Probably, Kojo thought, she would not recognise her own reflection, the state she was in.
He helped her up the stairs, one of her arms draped around his neck. He heaved her up, half dragging, half supporting her. She murmured, but he did not know what she was saying, nor did he want to. He wanted to make sure she got home, and then he didn’t want to see her again.
His palms were already sweaty being so close to her, the memory frightening him as much as it stirred him.
At her front door, he hesitated. Should he knock? Would that arouse questions if her brother answered? The girl giggled beside him and fumbled with a set of keys. She dropped them twice, and Kojo took them off her and found the right one, the third try successful, and the front door swung open.
He held the door for her and she half fell through it, letting go of his neck and collapsing against the wall.
“You’re a gentleman,” she smiled, not quite looking straight at him. “Walking me right to my door.” She hesitated, her drunken smile faltering. She raised a hand, frowning. “Wait, dude. How did you know where I lived?”
“Erm, see -” Kojo stammered, his heart racing.
“Wait, I know you,” the girl said. She seemed to sober up, eyes widening. “I know you. You and your friends. You’re the ones who -” She trailed off. Kojo froze, stood outside the front door, staring at her as she backed away down the hallway, her eyes wide. “You’re the rapist.”
* * *
Dante hesitated only for a second at the entrance to Nathaniel’s cell. He knew that it would do no good to show his nerves, especially in front of a man like Nathaniel. He would sense weakness, sniff it on him and use it to his own advantage. Whatever the old man wanted, Dante would have to play things very carefully if he wanted to stay on top.
He cleared his throat as he stood over Nathaniel, who was propped up on the bottom bunk, reading a newspaper. The old man looked up at him, looking relieved for a moment, as if he had doubted whether he would show up at all.
“You wanted to see me,” Dante said. He kept his voice level.
Nathaniel nodded. He folded the newspaper slowly and placed it beside him, taking his time, and Dante resisted the urge to snatch the paper off him and beat him with it. He had to keep his cool, at least until he knew what the man wanted.
He held his tongue, willing himself to remain patient, until Nathaniel finally met his eyes and cleared his throat.
“I suppose you’re wondering why,” he said.
“Yes,” Dante said, his voice clipped.
“You know that I know all about your little business in here,” Nathaniel said quietly. Dante reluctantly nodded. Nathaniel gave a smile, enjoying his discomfort.
“What do you want?” Dante demanded, his patience evaporating. “You want a cut? You want some gear? You name it, and its yours. Within reason.”
“No, no, you keep your money and drugs, I’m not interested in any of that,” he said.
Dante narrowed his eyes.
“What do you want then?”
“You know my daughter, Charley,” Nathaniel said.
Dante swallowed hard, struggling to hide his surprise. He murmured that he did.
“She wants a visiting order,” Nathaniel told him. “She wants to see you.”
The shock must have shown on Dante’s face, but he could not hide it. He could not understand why she would ever want to see him again.
“Why?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Nathaniel shrugged.
“I guess you’ll find out when you see her.”
“That’s all you want?” Dante asked him. “If I meet with Charley, you won’t say anything? You’ll keep your nose out of my business?”
“Of course,” Nathaniel replied.
“How can I trust you?”
“You’ll just have to take my word for it.”
“Your word?” Dante repeated. “What good is that?”
“The way I see it, Dante, is that you don’t have all that much choice.”
Dante grimaced. It was true.
“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll send her a visiting order.”
Nathaniel gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and then picked up his newspaper to continue reading. Dante left the cell, his mind swimming. Though it was a relief that the old man would keep his mouth shut and did not want money to do so, he was both confused and intrigued by the deal. Charley wanted to see him, and that was something given how much she hated him and always had done.
Perhaps she thought she could appeal to his good side, he thought, before the upcoming trial. He doubted it. They both knew he did not have a good side.
Whatever she wanted, Dante thought, he would find out soon enough.
* * *
Kojo was frozen in panic.
“You’re him,” the blonde was saying, still backing down the hallway, clasping the wall for support. “You’re the rapist. It’s you.”
He thought of what would happen when people found out. His parents, Clint, Scarlett. Everything would be ruined, he would be destroyed.
Something inside him snapped. He could not let that happen. This girl had deserved what had happened to her, he reminded himself. She had betrayed a Banks brother, a gangster, so what had she expected to happen? It was payback, no more and no less.
He stepped into the flat and flew down the corridor, his speed no match for her backwards-staggering. He grabbed a handful of her hair and threw her through a door into her bedroom. The hand that wasn’t holding her hair clenched into a fist, the bag of shopping still intertwined in his fingers, and he hit her hard in the face. She let out a cry and began sobbing.
Throwing her to the floor, he glared down at her.
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” he said, almost shouting, full of bravado now, though he had no clue where it was coming from. “If you tell anyone about me, about anything, I’ll come back with my mates and we will fucking kill you, you hear me?”
She stared at him, tears in her eyes, blood trickling from her nose. She curled up, pulling her knees tight against her body, perhaps worried he would force himself on her again. Hah, he thought, she was too dirty. Too filthy. She was scum.
His anger was bubbling now, furious that this girl could destroy his life.
“Did you hear what I said bitch?” he asked.
He kicked her hard, and she let out another cry and nodded fervently.
“I understand, I do,” she cried. “I won’t say anything, I promise. I swear.”
“Good,” he said. “You better not.”
He gave her one last disgusted look and left the flat, slamming the front door shut behind him. He thought he heard her crying, but he ignored it.
Fists still clenched, he realised he had impressed himself. Gone was the scared little boy who had been nudged into the flat by his mates. Now he was a man, a man who could say he had power, had respect.
Smiling, the plastic bag filled with his mum’s shopping still clenched in his hand, he headed for the stairwell.
* * *
Zoe poured out two drinks and carried them through to her lounge, feeling a sense of excitement and happiness that had nothing to do with the vodka she had already drank, nor the prospect of a night out with Shontelle.
Since Aurora had texted her with the news that Troy had been arrested and would not be back out on the streets for a long time, Zoe had felt relieved. She had not realised how stressed she had been since his release, the constant looking over her shoulder and the ever-present fear that he would seek revenge on her.
Now she felt relaxed, and it must have shown.
“You look happy,” Shontelle remarked, taking her drink and gulping it down, hair straighteners in one hand as she sat cross-legged on the floor.
“I am,” Zoe said, smiling for the first time in what felt like forever. “I really am.”
“Good, that’s what I like to hear,” Shontelle beamed.
Zoe sat down on the sofa, putting her drink down and picking up a mascara wand.
“I was thinking, perhaps we should invite the boys out to join us tonight,” Shontelle said. “Amal’s been blowing up my phone all day, and you never turn down a chance to see Tamar.”
Zoe laughed, raising an eyebrow in her direction. She wondered how long it would be before Shontelle and Amal became official. It seemed inevitable, and though she had never been close to Amal, he was Tamar’s best mate and so the pairing worked well for her.
“Sure,” she agreed, picking up her phone and texting Tamar. “I’ll let them know our plans.”
There was a knock on the door, and Zoe jumped to her feet. It would be Aurora, arriving for a catch-up ahead of babysitting Sienna tonight.
“Can you get me a top-up from the kitchen on your way back?” Shontelle called after her, holding up an already-empty glass. “Actually, just bring the bottle.”
Zoe laughed and nodded as she left the room. She found laughter came easily now, more naturally, now that the burden of Troy Banks had been lifted from over her. She could only imagine how Aurora must feel, as she opened the front door and pulled her into a hug.
* * *
Sanjay looked over at his brother and saw a smile spread across Amal’s face as he stared down at his phone screen. There was no prize for guessing who could put such a smile on his face, Sanjay thought darkly, knowing it was Shontelle.
He knew that his brother liked the girl, and he wanted to be happy for him, but he also knew that she was dangerous. She was Naz’s ex-girlfriend, and Naz had already made it clear that he did not want them to be together. They still needed Naz, and whatever happened, they could not cut him loose, not when their cousin knew so much about their plans for the estate. His plans were already in enough trouble without having to deal with the repercussions if Amal and Naz had a fight and their cousin turned on them.
“What’s wrong?” Amal asked from the sofa, catching his dark mood.
“Nothing,” Sanjay lied.
“Tell your face that man,” Amal laughed.
Sanjay shook his head, not wanting to have to lecture his brother or overstep his boundaries, but he had to.
“Listen, this girl, I know you like her,” Sanjay said, “But we need to keep Naz on side.”
“This isn’t any of his business,” Amal said, his smile vanishing.
“It’s his ex,” Sanjay pointed out.
“Yeah, exactly,” Amal said. “His ex. Which means it’s none of his business.”
“I’m just warning you,” Sanjay sighed, not wanting a row with him over this.
“Well, warning delivered,” Amal said, returning his gaze to his phone.
Sanjay shook his head, knowing that Amal would heed no advice from him. He could only hope that Naz would not get his back up over the whole thing.
“Just try not to rub it in Naz’s face,” Sanjay said, as he rose to his feet.
Amal rolled his eyes, not even looking up from his phone.
Sanjay could do no more, leaving Amal to his business, and left the house. He needed to see Jayden, and that was more important than involving himself in his brother’s love life.
He went over what he would say to Jayden, trying to worry about why Jayden had not been in touch with him. He was still thinking it over as he knocked on the door to the Healy house, though he knew that the brothers must already know he was here. They had lookouts up the street who had no doubt warned them the second Sanjay had turned down their street.
The door opened and he was led into the kitchen where Jayden sat alone, smoking a joint and drinking a protein shake.
“What can I do for you?” Jayden asked, not looking round at him as he approached.
“I just wanted to stop by,” Sanjay said.
“Nobody just wants to stop by,” Jayden pointed out. “You here about Tyrese, right?”
Sanjay nodded.
“Well, I’m sure you know the situation has changed now,” Jayden said. “We don’t need your help now, but you’re a good guy, and we go back a long way, so I can see if I have a place for you in my team, okay man?”
Sanjay tried to hide his confusion.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Jayden looked at him closely.
“You don’t know?” he asked. Then he smiled, shaking his head. “Maybe you and Tyrese aren’t as close as you think.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanjay asked, eyes narrowing.
Jayden sighed, folding his arms.
“Tyrese is retiring,” he told him. “He handed me the estate. I’ve already won.”
“He did what?” Sanjay asked, shocked.
He could hardly believe it, though he knew Jayden was not lying.
“Whatever you’re up to Sanjay, it’s over,” Jayden told him. “Tyrese is out. The Goldsworth is mine. If you want a job with me, I can see what I can do, but you’ll have to prove yourself.”
“Prove myself?” Sanjay repeated, his words echoing in his head. “Work for you?”
He let out a laugh, though he was anything but amused.
“If not, then you know where the door is,” Jayden shrugged.
Sanjay bit his tongue, nodding his head slowly as he was expected to, and let himself out of the kitchen. He was silent as he was shown the door, and only kicked out at the curb when he was a few streets away from the Healy compound.
It was all over, he realised now. Tyrese had given up. Jayden had taken over. The worst of it was that he had heard it all from Jayden instead of Tyrese, and the indignation rankled, but Sanjay did not even see the use in confronting Tyrese. Since Trent’s death, he had changed. The fight had left him.
Perhaps, Sanjay thought, he should let the fight leave him too now that the game was all but over.
* * *
Kojo put the joint to his lips and inhaled deeply.
“Nice, man,” Kent said beside him on the sofa, chuckling to himself.
Music was blasting and the room was full of smoke and people. Leon was having a party, and Kojo was pleased that he had a prime spot. When he and Kent had arrived, Leon had turfed two girls off the sofa to let them sit down in their place, and Kojo had to admit that it felt good to be so welcomed, to feel important, like part of a family, even if was just with his mates.
He exhaled, blowing smoke across the room. Kent reached for the joint, but Kojo slapped his hand away, only half-jokingly, and took another toke.
Kojo was beginning to relax, the alcohol and weed numbing him to his earlier worries. When he had met Kent, he had brought up the recording.
“Don’t worry,” Kent had reassured him. “We’re family now, man. It’s safe. Nobody ever going to see that shit. I’ve got your back, don’t worry about that.”
Kojo had believed him, Kent’s words so earnest that he could not help but feel more reassured.
He exhaled again and passed the joint to a grateful Kent, ignoring the ash that crumbled off and scattered onto his jeans. He swiped it away, leaving a mark.
“That’ll stain,” a pretty brunette said, joining them and perching on the arm of the sofa beside Kojo. “You should see my jeans,” she laughed, flicking her hair.
Kojo eyed her up. She was pretty, with pale skin and wide blue eyes. Kent coughed on some smoke and nudged Kojo.
“Mate, this is Vanessa,” he introduced them. “Vanessa, this is my main man, my boy, Kojo. He’s a legend.”
“Legend?” Vanessa repeated, intrigued, leaning closer to Kojo. “Nice to meet you.”
Kojo smiled back at her, and he didn’t stop her as her fingers traced a line down his cheek, caressing his lips for a moment, before she pulled her hand back, reaching for the joint that Kent passed her.
As she inhaled, Kent nudged Kojo hard.
“She’s well into you mate,” he winked.
Kojo eyed her again. He had been avoiding Scarlett’s texts, ashamed to even talk to her. He would never be good enough for her now, nor what she deserved. It frustrated him, but it was the truth, he knew that.
Vanessa smiled widely at him as smoke billowed from between her pink lips, and she slid slowly off the arm of the sofa and into Kojo’s lap.
* * *
Naz paced the floor of his bedroom, going around in circles in the small space. He snatched up his phone from his bed, where he had thrown it just a moment ago. He did not want to look again, but he could not help himself.
He looked on Shontelle’s Instagram page and his fists clenched with fresh anger as he looked at the photos she had shared just a few hours ago. Some were innocent enough, Shontelle and Zoe getting ready for a night out. Then she had posted photos with Amal and one of his mates, then a few of just her and Amal. Amal’s arm was around her shoulder in one, and then in one he had his hand on her waist. The sight of that had almost given Naz a heart attack.
When he had seen the pictures, he had commented asking where they were. As the minutes drifted past and nobody replied to him, he had sent Shontelle a private message. Then another. He had text her and then tried to call her. She had ignored them all. He tried to tell himself that it was nothing, that she was just on a night out and having a good time, and it was a coincidence that Amal was there.
He had almost rang Amal but he could not bring himself to do so, knowing that Amal would never let him live it down. He did not want to come across desperate, but the truth was that he was far more desperate than he had ever realised was possible.
He was in love with Shontelle, and he knew that if he gave her enough time, and if she gave him another chance, then she could love him too. He just knew it, but now Amal was on the scene and he knew how his cousin would charm and flatter Shontelle and steal her away from him.
