No Second Chances Read online

  NO SECOND CHANCEs

  NO SECOND CHANCES

  DAVIE J TOOTHILL

  Copyright © 2019 Davie J Toothill

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licenses issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the author.

  Davie J Toothill

  Typeset in Aldine401 BT Roman by Davie J Toothill

  CHAPTER ONE

  It was Saturday morning, but Tyrese Banks did not feel either the usual urge to party or the beginnings of a hangover. He had necked a few beers last night, but it was not to celebrate, it was because he had needed to, or his emotions would have overwhelmed him.

  His thoughts remained on Jessie, his beloved little sister, and the fact that she had just put a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger. He knew that he was not entirely blameless for pushing her to that desperate point. He also knew that her boyfriend, Corey Healy, had a burden of guilt probably larger than his own. Trent, in his anger, was all for revenge and justice, but Tyrese disagreed.

  If he held Corey responsible for pushing her to that point, he would have to accept responsibility for his own part in the tragedy and he did not want to allow himself to think like that. Besides, he reasoned, Jessie had been dealing with grief and her own issues, and nobody had forced her to take that drastic route to oblivion.

  The overriding reason that he did not want revenge on the Healy brothers was because he did not want to start another turf war. Tyrese was a big believer in only picking battles that could be won. He knew that this war would benefit nobody, least of all himself.

  The Healy brothers were better armed and better organised. If the Banks brothers took them on, Tyrese knew that he and his brothers would stand no chance. Not when their empire had crumbled to a pitiful excuse of what it had once been. It had seemed more hopeful, Tyrese thought, now that Sanjay had stepped in to help fill the void left by Trent and his disinterest in anything that did not involve girls or beer.

  Emotions had run high at Jessie’s funeral and Tyrese hoped that Trent’s actions would not cost them all dearly. If the Healy brothers were feeling vengeful towards him, then Tyrese wanted to get things resolved as quickly as he could.

  That meant he only had one option.

  “You serious?” Sanjay asked, eyebrows rising when Tyrese had finished relaying his plan to him. They were sat in a pub on the outskirts of the estate, safely away from Trent’s eavesdropping. Tyrese knew that Trent would not approve of or accept his plan, and he also knew that Trent would fuck it all up if he became involved in any way. Trent had done enough damage. Sanjay shook his head, uncertain. “You sure you want this?”

  Tyrese looked closely at his friend, his right-hand man, and nodded.

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense,” he said, knowing he sounded tired. “I mean, we can’t afford to go up against them, not in the state we’re in.”

  “But a truce?” Sanjay repeated, taking a swig of his pint. “Isn’t that admitting defeat? If you do this, you’re as good as telling Jayden and Corey that you can’t beat them. What’s to stop them taking you on, taking you out and taking over?”

  Tyrese looked down at the wooden table between them, sensing Sanjay’s frustration. He had expected this reaction, but he hoped Sanjay would understand. If this was Sanjay’s reaction, he dreaded to think what Trent’s would have been.

  “Jayden doesn’t want a war any more than I do,” Tyrese said, knowing that it was the truth. “If we call a truce, nobody gets hurt. We all win.”

  Sanjay considered him for a long moment.

  “You make a good point,” he eventually relented. Tyrese sighed with relief. “But you can’t control everything, man. Jayden and Corey might not –”

  “We’ve got to try,” Tyrese interrupted.

  “Fair point,” Sanjay said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. He glanced at Tyrese, eyes flickering to the empty chairs around them. “No Trent?”

  Tyrese had expected the question.

  “He’s taking a break,” he replied.

  Sanjay nodded, and Tyrese knew what his friend was thinking.

  “His choice or yours?” he asked.

  “Mine.”

  “Does he know about any of this?” Sanjay asked.

  “He doesn’t need to know,” Trent insisted. “Not yet. He’s not –”

  He hesitated.

  “As diplomatically-minded?” Sanjay suggested.

  They both laughed.

  “Well said,” Tyrese said, taking a drink of his own pint, smiling for this first time in what felt like a long time. He had known that Sanjay would understand. “He can’t see the bigger picture. That’s why I’m here, and he’s still nursing a hangover in bed with some Polish chick.”

  Sanjay said nothing, taking another drink.

  “You’ll go see Jayden today then?” Tyrese asked, though it was not a question. Sanjay would go today. Sanjay nodded.

  Tyrese raised his pint glass. Sanjay copied his gesture and their glasses clinked together.

  “To the future,” Tyrese said, the tension in his shoulders that had plagued him for the last few days seeming to ease a little, as he felt a glimmer of hope that his plan would come together, and everything would be fine.

  * * *

  Leaving the pub half an hour later, Sanjay Siddiqui bid farewell to Tyrese and set off down the road in the opposite direction to the Goldsworth Estate. His trainers scuffed the pavement and he shivered despite the relative warmth.

  Though not completely unexpected, Sanjay was frustrated that Tyrese had seemingly given up any hope of competing against the Healy brothers. Now he wanted to make a truce, even if it meant losing some respect and some potential profit on the streets. Sanjay knew that Tyrese meant well, and he would have probably done the same in his position. It was a massive fuck you to Sanjay’s own plan though.

  He had hoped, when he had learnt of Jessie Banks’ death, that old rivalries and hatred would resurface, and the two sets of brothers would wipe each other out, leaving the estate wide open for him to take over. If Tyrese and Jayden struck a deal, then he would never get a look-in, would have to settle for being Tyrese’s wing-man, a substitute for Trent, and that was just an insult as far as he was concerned.

  Despite what he had tried to convince Tyrese of, Sanjay knew that Jayden would be amenable to the idea of a truce. They both understood that peace was the best outcome for all of them.

  Though it might have looked bleak for his own plan, Sanjay thought, he still had an ace left to play. Jayden and Tyrese could strike a deal and get all lovey-dovey, but they could not control their brothers. Trent was unpredictable, the funeral had proved that much, and as much as Tyrese might try, he could not keep him on a leash. Corey Healy was the same, and Sanjay knew that if he could get one of them to break the truce, then Jayden and Tyrese’s promises would mean nothing, and old tensions would once again fire up.

  When that happened, Sanjay would be ready. It was a good plan, even if it was the only plan he had right now. He didn’t need to light a match, it was already lit. All he had to do was fan the flames a little and watch the whole thing explode.

  * * *

  Troy Banks cracked open his can of beer and let out a contented sigh as he took his first sip. His feet were up on the coffee table, shoes discarded on the floor beside the sofa, and the television was blasting out the music he had missed out on during his time inside.

  He thought of Dante and the others, still locked up in prison and felt a trickle of amusement but could not quite bring himself to laugh. The very thought of the cell was enough to sour his mood and keep him up at night, so he forced himself to remember that he was free now. He could come and go from his mother’s flat as he pleased, drink and eat and shag whenever he wanted.

  He would not see the inside of a cell again, he was certain of that.

  His mother had made herself scarce and he was grateful. He did not know what she was playing at, veering from seeming to hate the sight of him and the next minute fretting and coddling him as if he were an infant. It was starting to get on his last nerves, and he was having the can to celebrate the fact she had gone out. Not that her presence would have stopped him.

  Trent’s bedroom door opened and his brother slouched out, scratching his stomach. Troy was surprised by the state of his brother. Once the brawn and muscle of the Banks brothers, Trent was gaining pounds fast and it was all beer not muscle. He went into the kitchen and returned with a can of his own, dropping onto the sofa next to him.

  “Where’s Tyrese?” Troy asked him, watching for his brother’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. It had not gone unnoticed that a rift had developed between Tyrese and Trent, and Troy was weary.

  Trent shrugged, though irritation flashed across his face and his lips turned up.

  “Who knows these days?” he said.

  Troy did not know what to say to that. He did not like this breakdown in the Banks brothers. He had hoped he would return to the estate in a blaze of glory but instead he had come back to find his brothers were no longer the top dogs.

 
“I want to have a party tonight,” Troy said, changing the subject. “To celebrate me getting out. Put word out that I’m back, in case there’s anyone who doesn’t know.”

  Trent did not look excited at the prospect.

  “Just be careful,” he said. “You just got out, and I bet there’s a lot of people who aren’t too happy about it. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself, you hear me?”

  Troy was nonplussed. The only people who weren’t happy about his release were the spineless traitors who had betrayed him, and they were running scared now he was out. He would get around to serving them their dues.

  When Troy voiced this, Trent’s look darkened further.

  “Things have changed since you’ve been away,” he said. “It’s not what it used to be.”

  Troy groaned, slurping from his can. Talk about a buzzkill, he thought.

  “Whatever,” Troy shook his head. “I’m having one. I’ll get my old crew round and have some laughs. God knows this flat needs some.”

  Trent chuckled in agreement, his mood lightening at last.

  “Well, I’ll get you some cans and some gear later,” he said, and Troy grinned, relieved at his brother’s return to normal. Trent smiled. “As a welcome home present. Don’t go expecting it all the time mind.”

  “Cheers,” Troy said, lifting his can and taking another drink.

  The bedroom door opened and the blonde girl that Trent was hooking-up with emerged, already dressed and heading for the front door. She paused at the doorway to the kitchen, giving Trent the eye.

  “I’m off then,” she said eventually, frustration thick in her tone. “See you later, I guess.”

  “We’re having a party tonight,” Trent said, “Celebrate Troy’s return. Bring your mates if you want.”

  Troy was surprised. It was not like Trent to invite a hook-up to a party. Perhaps it was more serious between them than he had realised.

  “Sure, I never say no to a party,” she said. She hesitated. “Not so sure about my mates though.”

  Troy narrowed his eyes, wondering what she was hinting at. Trent shook his head.

  “Troy doesn’t want that backstabbing bitch here anyway,” he snapped. “Forget her. Don’t go inviting her, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Who’re you talking about?” Troy asked, though he could guess the answer.

  “Brandy,” she confirmed.

  Troy nodded slowly, buying himself some thinking time. He had thought about Brandy a lot since he had seen her on the stand. He could not fathom what her feelings towards him were, and he did not understand his own for her. Yet he found himself unable to stop thinking about her, his mind replaying memories of their good times together whenever he needed to stop himself from drifting into dark thoughts about prison and the cell he hoped never to return to.

  “You can invite her,” Troy said, studiously avoiding Trent’s look. The blonde looked surprised, but she nodded with a shrug. “I guess for old times’ sake.”

  “I can ask, but I don’t think she’ll say yes,” she said.

  Troy wondered if he had made a mistake, if Brandy did not still harbor feelings for him and instead wanted nothing more to do with him.

  “Whatever,” Troy shrugged, trying to sound flippant. He swigged from his can, not looking over as Trent got up from the couch and went into the kitchen with the blonde, closing the door behind them.

  Troy turned up the music, trying not to think about Brandy and whether he would be seeing her tonight, or whether he even wanted to. His emotions were still raw, and he was not sure, if he set eyes on her, whether he would want to kiss her or to punch her.

  * * *

  Clint Jackson opened the door from the bedroom he shared with his younger brother Kojo as quietly as he could. The sound of his father’s snores rumbled down the hallway from beneath his parents’ door.

  Relieved that his father was asleep, he crept down the hallway and into the kitchen. His mother raised a finger to her lips when she saw him as she scrubbed dishes in well-practiced silence.

  “Where’s Kojo?” Clint asked quietly.

  His mother shook her head, turning her back on him to resume her housework.

  “I think he stayed with friends,” she said.

  Clint gritted his teeth. He wished that she would put her foot down, stop Kojo from treading down the familiar path on this estate, a path that he had tread so closely to not so long ago. He was in no position to lecture his brother, and Kojo had made it clear that he did not want or need his brother’s advice.

  He had to let it drop though and had to trust that his brother was smarter than he gave him credit for. There were more pressing matters that occupied Clint’s mind now.

  Tamar had sent him a message, sharing the news that Troy was back on the Goldsworth. It was not totally unexpected, given that it was the only home he had known, and his family still lived here, but it was unwelcome all the same. For a few days, when Troy had left court and failed to return, Clint had hoped his former best mate had slunk off to new pastures to leave them all in peace. Troy was not so considerate, though, and now he had proven it.

  Worse still, it seemed Troy was showing no remorse for anything he had done. Tamar had told him that Troy was throwing a party to celebrate his release. Clint could hardly believe him, wondering how he could ever have considered Troy to be his closest friend.

  He knew that once Troy had partied and got everything out of his system, his thoughts would turn to revenge. He would be a target, for sure, as the one who had opened the floodgates and gone to the police with everything he knew. It was not for his own safety that Clint feared though, as he thought about Aurora.

  Troy had become obsessed with her before he had been locked up, had tried to force himself on her, had risked his relationship and friendships, even his freedom, just to have her. If prison had not changed him, then perhaps he would try the same thing again, and seeing Troy for who he really was now, Clint knew that this time Troy would not be so easy to stop if he wanted it.

  He wanted to call Aurora, to go over to her mum’s place, make sure she was protected, but he knew that he could not. He had packed his suitcase and left, moved back to his parents’, leaving Aurora and their daughter so that she could have space from him.

  He reminded himself that Aurora did not love him anymore, that she would not want him there, would not appreciate his support or his protectiveness. Still, he could not stop himself from loving her, wanting to be there for her.

  Misreading the look on his face, his mother gave a soft smile.

  “Don’t worry love, Kojo’s a good boy, he’ll be fine,” she said.

  Clint forced himself to return the smile and nod. His brother was the least of his worries right now, but he could not share that fact with her.

  He tried to stop himself from thinking about Aurora and whether she was in danger, or the fact that Troy was just a short distance across the estate, perhaps even now planning his revenge on them both.

  * * *

  “I’ll get it,” Marlena called as she went out of the kitchen to the landing the second the knock on the front door rang through the flat.

  Aurora Curtis could hear the nerves in her mother’s voice and knew the cause. Troy Banks. Ever since the verdict had been read out in court and the judge had proclaimed him a free man, Aurora had sensed the change in her mother. She seemed anxious, as if he would turn up here at any moment. Aurora had wondered the same thing herself, though in the middle of the night, when her thoughts turned dark, she sometimes found herself wishing that he would come here.

  In her waking dreams, she imagined him kicking down the front door, wanting to finish what he had started with her. She would be ready for him. There would be no tears or pleading this time, at least not from her. She would hurt him, make him plead and cry for her mercy. She would not grant it to him, denying him dignity in his final moments just as he had done to her sister. She would feel her sister’s ghost standing behind her, in full support of her, when she ended Troy’s pathetic excuse of a life.

  These thoughts frightened her, made her question everything. She had considered Detective Patterson’s suggestion that she look at becoming a police officer, and now she was dreaming about killing Troy. He would deserve it, though, after everything he had done.