The Reckoning (Carter Brothers), page 20
Waving his hand dismissively, Joey took a seat opposite his father. Unlike Gerry, he wasn’t afraid of the Carter family, despite Jonny’s lucky punch, and that was all it had been, as far as Joey was concerned, a lucky punch. Besides, he’d left Carter with a stinging reminder that he wouldn’t forget in a hurry. The slash across his arm had not only been deep but had also been pissing out blood when they’d left him outside the strip club in Soho, so much so that he wouldn’t be surprised if Carter had bled to death before he’d even made it to the hospital. Not that he gave two fucks; as far as he was concerned, it just meant one less Carter in the world.
‘Your old man’s got a point,’ Carlos interjected. ‘Our war isn’t with the Carters, it’s with the two bastards who killed my uncle and cousin.’
Joey had the grace to look down at the starched white linen tablecloth. He’d been so caught up in the moment that he’d totally forgotten that the sole purpose of them ending Garner and McKay’s sorry lives was because they’d had a hand in killing Adam Christos. He hadn’t only been Carlos’s uncle, he’d also been his father’s closest friend. Gerry was still cut up about what had happened to Adam, and his death had been likened to the stuff of nightmares, it was that barbaric.
‘Yeah, I’m sorry,’ he said, shamefaced. A moment later, Joey ran his tongue across his tooth again and his eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘I still did him, though, didn’t I?’ he said, making a stabbing motion.
Shaking his head, Carlos couldn’t help but grin. When it came to Joey, he knew how to play the game; after all, they were two sick fucks together. ‘Yeah, you did him, all right.’ He laughed.
Thirty minutes, that was all it took for Moray to reach Romford from where he lived in Leigh-on-Sea. Admittedly, he’d put his foot down for most of the journey and would probably end up with a speeding ticket or two, but in the grand scheme of things, it was a small price to pay. The quicker he had it out with Danny, the better. They needed to call a truce and fast. Not only was his son’s life at stake but also their livelihoods; how were they supposed to run a club together if they were at loggerheads?
Jumping out of the car, he pressed the fob to activate the central locking system, then stormed across the car park towards the club. Thankfully, it was still early evening, and they had a few hours to go before the club opened for the night. Not that it mattered; he was more than prepared for the club to stay closed until he and Danny had put their differences aside.
‘Where is he?’ Moray asked Callum as soon as he entered the club.
Callum narrowed his eyes; it had been a long time since he’d seen his boss as enraged as he was right now; steam was practically coming out of Moray’s ears and that was putting it mildly. ‘He’s not here, boss.’
Moray span around, his face a mask of anger. ‘Then get him fucking here,’ he ordered, ‘now.’
Callum didn’t need telling twice and, as Moray marched across the dancefloor in the direction of where the offices were situated, he shoved his hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. As he dialled Danny’s number, he hastily calculated how many heavies were on the premises. Unless he was very much mistaken, the look in Moray’s eyes had been more than enough to tell him that some serious shit was about to go down between his two bosses.
Ending the call, Danny lounged back on the chair, and toyed with his mobile phone, his eyes hard.
‘Problem?’ Jimmy enquired.
As he looked up, Danny gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘Nah, no problem at all.’ And it was true, he and Moray were equally matched; they both had a lot of muscle behind them, not to mention formidable tempers, and if it ever came to blows between them, the end result could go in either one’s favour and could very well come down to which one of them threw the first punch, or the last.
As though he didn’t have a care in the world, Danny slowly got to his feet. He was in no hurry to get to the club and had never been of the mindset to ask how high when Moray told him to jump. As far as he was concerned, Moray could wait; after all, he’d kept Danny waiting long enough, hadn’t he? How many times had Danny called him and Moray hadn’t bothered to answer the phone?
At the door, Danny said his goodbyes, somewhat reassured that they had set the wheels in motion. Already, the younger Carters were putting the word out on the street that they wanted to know where they could find Gerry Mann and his son Joey. It would only be a matter of time until they had an address for them.
‘I’ll see you out.’ Getting out of her seat, Stacey joined Danny at the front door. ‘Are you sure that you’re okay?’ she asked him. ‘I mean, Maria; it must have come as a shock.’
Danny gave a gentle smile, his first real smile in days. ‘Other than the fact I feel like a bit of an idiot, yeah, I’m okay.’ He sighed. ‘Not much else I can say, is there? She took me for a mug, and I fell for it; I’ve only got myself to blame.’
Stacey shook her head. ‘How could you have known? If anyone’s to blame, it’s me and Jimmy, we should have told you.’
‘Forget about it,’ Danny answered. ‘Like I said, if anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I knew myself something wasn’t right; in here, I mean.’ He poked himself in the chest. ‘I should have fucked her off months ago; the signs were all there, only I chose to ignore them.’
‘Well, if you ever need a chat, you know where I am. Don’t be a stranger, eh?’
‘Cheers, Stace.’ He reached out for her hand and gave a gentle squeeze. It was such an innocent gesture, something he’d done a hundred times before, yet he couldn’t deny how easily their fingers slotted together; it was almost as though her hand was made for his. In that instant, he let go, scared that he would give the game away, scared that she would cotton on to how he felt about her. Maria he could take losing – to be more precise, he was glad to see the back of her – but when it came to Stacey, the mere thought of never seeing her again was enough to rip his heart to shreds. And if all she would ever be to him was just a friend, then so be it, he could live with that; he’d done all right so far, hadn’t he? If you could call getting mixed up with Maria doing all right for himself. ‘I’d best shoot off.’
Her heart thumping, Stacey watched him go. ‘Be careful,’ she called out to him, ‘she’s still out there, and I don’t trust the bitch as far as I can throw her.’
Danny chuckled. ‘Trust me, it’s the last we’ve seen of her.’
As Stacey watched him go, she could only hope and pray that he was right. The mere thought of Maria, lurking in the shadows, waiting for her moment to pounce, was enough to make Stacey shudder.
Forty minutes later, Danny pulled into the club’s car park. As he stepped out of the car and locked up, his movements were slow and deliberate. Outwardly there was nothing to suggest that anything was amiss, that he was just one remark away from losing his shit, that even so much as a wrong look in his direction would be enough to make him erupt with fury.
Entering the club, Danny twirled his keyring around his forefinger. ‘Where is he?’
Callum glanced over his shoulder and, rubbing his hand over his clammy face, he jerked his thumb in the direction of the offices.
With a nod of his head, Danny made to move forward when Callum called after him.
‘I may be out of line here,’ he said, holding up his hands, ‘but should I be worried?’
Danny paused and, looking across the dancefloor, he shrugged. ‘No matter what happens, or what you hear, don’t call the Old Bill.’
Callum’s skin turned ashen. It went without saying that the police wouldn’t be called; it just wasn’t done in their world and went against everything they stood for.
Danny had barely made it three feet along the upper corridor when Moray stormed out of the office.
‘What the fuck is this all about?’ he demanded, jerking his head towards the phone clutched in his fist.
Looking from the phone then back to Moray, Danny raised his eyebrows. He would have thought that it was obvious; he couldn’t have made himself any clearer on the voice message he’d left. He was going to kill Aaron and it was as simple as that.
‘Where is he?’ Danny asked. ‘And don’t even think about trying to pull the wool over my eyes; I know for a fact that you know where the treacherous, no-good cunt is hiding out.’
Moray swallowed deeply and, holding Danny’s gaze, he pulled himself up to his full height. ‘I’ve already told you, mate, it’s not happening. You’ll have to go through me first. You’re angry and I get it, but taking Aaron out isn’t the answer. Yeah, I admit that he deserves a good hiding; in fact, be my fucking guest, give him a slap, punch him all around the office if that’ll make you feel any better, but anything more than that and you and me are gonna have a serious fucking problem.’
Danny’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t tempt me,’ he warned, ‘because, believe me, right now nothing would give me greater pleasure than to take you and that bastard son of yours down.’
Moray shook his head, a snarl etched across his face. ‘I never thought I’d see the day,’ he spat, ‘that you and me would ever come to blows. We’re mates, for fuck’s sake, not enemies.’
‘Were,’ Danny corrected, ‘we were mates, until your son tried to kill my daughter. I’m not letting something like that go. I can’t. Lexi could have died, and as far as I’m concerned,’ Danny sneered, ‘me and you are done.’
‘And that suits me down to the fucking ground,’ Moray shouted back. Only it wasn’t true and, as soon as the words had left his mouth, Moray regretted them. His thoughts turned to his own daughter and he knew that if the roles were reversed, and it had been Logan who’d left Tamsin for dead, he would have been thinking and saying the exact same thing. At the end of the day, they were fathers, and they were protecting their children; whether they were innocent or guilty made no difference, it was how the world worked, you looked out for your offspring, your flesh and blood, you wanted the best for them, and deep down, he knew that he’d let his eldest son down.
Aaron had been right; at the time of his son’s birth, he’d never wanted to become a father, and even when Aaron had come out of prison, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with him – for that alone, guilt plagued him. Perhaps that was why, despite what Aaron had done, Moray was still trying his utmost to protect him. Maybe on some subconscious level he was trying to make amends for his own wrongdoing.
Pushing past Moray, Danny threw up his arms. The fact Moray wasn’t denying his son’s involvement spoke volumes and wasn’t lost on either of them. ‘And you’re still trying to fucking defend him; do you even realise how fucked up that is?’ he roared.
‘He’s my son,’ Moray roared back as he followed Danny into the office they shared and slammed the door firmly closed behind them. ‘I can’t hand him over to you on a plate; what kind of a father would that make me?’
‘Where is he?’ Danny persevered.
For the first time since Danny had arrived, Moray faltered, only reiterating Danny’s belief that his old friend knew exactly where his son was hiding out.
‘Just give me an address,’ Danny snarled, ‘that’s all I’m asking for.’
Closing his eyes, Moray slumped on to a chair and shook his head. ‘I can’t do that, you know I can’t,’ he said, pleading with Danny’s better nature. Despite Danny’s hard exterior, he knew there was a softer side to him. He’d seen Danny with his children enough times to know that he wasn’t all bad, that he doted on them. ‘Look, why don’t you come over to the house, and we can talk about this calmly,’ Moray said, changing tack. ‘We can try to find a solution, a way to move forward. You know that Sophie would love to see you, she’s been telling me for ages to invite you over for dinner, you could even bring the kids.’
Danny gave a half laugh, only to Moray’s ears it sounded cold and flat. ‘What, so that your cunt of a son can take another shot at my daughter?’
‘Leave it out, mate.’ Moray’s shoulders slumped. ‘You know it’s not like that. As if I’d ever allow anything like that to happen. I love your kids like they’re my own; I’d never put them in danger.’ They were going around in circles and Moray had a feeling that unless he found a way to talk Danny out of it, then he wasn’t about to give up his quest for revenge any time soon. Even when they were teenagers, Danny had been a law unto himself, it was how he was made. ‘Just come over for dinner one night. Between us we can sort this out.’
‘Nice try, pal.’ Danny took a step closer, leant his weight on the desk and pushed his face forward. ‘I’ll do you a deal,’ he said, giving a sarcastic wink, ‘tell me where to find him and then I’ll happily come over for dinner. Fuck me, I’ll even bring dessert if that’ll make you happy.’
Moray’s stomach dropped. There was no getting through to Danny, and he had a nasty feeling that it was only a matter of time before he located Aaron. He was bound to; he had a nose on him like a bloodhound. He could only hope and pray that when that time came Aaron would have the sense to keep his mouth firmly shut, that he’d keep the chip on his shoulder under control, because just one wrong word from him would be enough to send Danny over the edge, and if that happened, there would be no way of deterring him from his murderous rampage. There would be no way of calming him down and diffusing the situation, and as much as Moray knew he would try, even he knew deep down that he wouldn’t be able to stop Danny.
18
The next day, Aaron was practically climbing the walls. When his father had all but dragged him out of Colm’s flat, he hadn’t expected to be held prisoner in one of Moray’s properties, and fair enough, he wasn’t actually locked in, but with the threat hanging over him that Moray would cause him some serious damage if he so much as stepped foot outside the flat, he might as well have been.
For the past three hours, he’d been eyeing the small polythene bag that had contained the white powder his mind and body craved. Had being the operative word. He’d run out of his stash the night before; he’d actually licked the bag clean, he was that desperate for a fix, and once more the craving was beginning to kick in. Already it was driving him out of his mind. Not only were his stomach muscles cramping to the point that he thought he was actually dying, but his body shook so violently that he had to sit with his arms wrapped around his knees in an attempt just to control himself. It wasn’t enough to stop his teeth from rattling, though, and the constant chattering was enough to give him a blinding headache. And if that wasn’t bad enough, sitting on top of the fridge at his home in Dagenham was a second bag, full to the brim with whizz. Every time he closed his eyes, he could visualise the white powder calling out to him, teasing him.
Reaching out for his mobile phone, he pressed redial and brought the device up to his ear, hoping, praying even, that Skinny would finally have turned his phone on. All Aaron needed was some help; he needed a fix, and some cash, in that particular order, all so he could get out of the flat, jump on a train and go home. Fuck his dad’s demands. He didn’t answer to Moray; he never had in the past and sure as hell wasn’t about to start now. Skinny might well be the only one willing to oblige and help him out. More than anything, all Aaron wanted was a fix and then he’d be a happy man; it wasn’t as though he was asking for the earth, was it?
To Aaron’s dismay, the answering machine kicked in, just as it had when he’d tried calling the day before. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Why hadn’t Skinny switched his phone on? Even if he was out of credit, he would still be able to take incoming calls, wouldn’t he?
A sickening thought hit him and, as much as he tried to push the feeling of dread away, he couldn’t. What if something had happened to Skinny? What if Mann and Christos had got to him? After all, they’d tried once and failed, what was there to stop them going back and trying a second time? Fear coursed through Aaron’s veins. Not only had he and Skinny been mates since school, but when he’d been inside, Skinny had been the only one who’d bothered to visit him. Skinny had been the only mainstay in his life, his only real friend.
Nausea washed over Aaron, and scrolling through his contact list, he stopped when he came to his brother’s contact details, his finger hovering over the dial button. Colm had too much of their father in him; he was too strait-laced, too conservative, and considering Colm had done time for drug dealing, as far as Aaron was concerned, he was a fucking joke. Who exactly was Colm trying to kid? Because it sure as hell wasn’t him. Scowling, he pressed dial and, as the phone began to ring, he chewed on his thumbnail. ‘Come on,’ he muttered over and over again, like a mantra. Someone had to check up on Skinny, check that nothing untoward had happened to him, and more importantly, someone had to check that his friend was still alive.
Colm took one glance at his mobile phone, saw his brother’s name flash up on the screen and declined the call. He wasn’t in the mood for Aaron and his shit. In fact, it was fair to say that he wanted nothing more to do with his brother, not now that he knew the truth surrounding the shooting at the club.
He still couldn’t get his head around the fact that his brother had tried to murder their father – fair enough, they had a rocky relationship, but nonetheless, it made no sense to him. Aaron could have easily walked straight out of Moray’s life; it wasn’t as though their dad would have tried to stop him.
His phone rang again, and after declining the call a second time, he switched the device off. Across the club, he was aware of Danny watching him intently and, swallowing deeply, he lowered his eyes, then hastily shoved the phone into his trouser pocket before resuming the task of setting up the bar. Danny’s hard stare unnerved him, and with the animosity between his father and Danny growing by the minute, the last thing he wanted was to be caught in the crossfire. He liked Danny, always had done, but his loyalty had to lie with his dad. That was how it worked; you stood by your family, no matter what. Unless your name was Aaron, of course. His brother hadn’t only betrayed their father but he’d also tried to end his life; there was no greater betrayal than that.
